Vlad stood before the man who inspired fear in the hearts of everyone present, wearing a calm smile and a serious gaze. He even felt a little pity: the Mountain was no real challenge, but if he held back just enough, he could make the fight an interesting spectacle.
He observed the man, covered head to toe in plate armor without a single exposed piece, and couldn't help but smile.
He spoke casually.
—It's rare for someone to make me look up, you know? —he commented as he drew his sword with one hand and held a dagger in a reverse grip with the other— Don't take it personally, but you were part of my family's suffering… so I'm going to enjoy this.
Gregor let out an irritated growl before speaking with arrogant confidence:
—You're dead.
He then swung his massive greatsword, an unmistakably oversized weapon that no one but him could wield. Well, no one in a world without vampires.
Vlad simply stepped to the side to dodge it and, spinning on his heel, positioned himself at the Mountain's flank, who had lost his balance from the momentum. He struck the helm with the flat of his sword so hard that it flew off, though it caused no real harm.
The Mountain roared in fury and swung the greatsword again, using its huge reach to try to split Vlad in two, but Vlad hopped back lightly and deflected the blade with his own.
—You're slow —he said, giving him time to recover his guard— I expected more from the man minstrels sing about in fear.
Gregor roared before charging, swinging with brute strength but no technique. Vlad dodged the attacks with twirls and leaps, deflecting others using the giant's own inertia.
—You don't know how to use a sword —Vlad mocked— You just wave it around like a stick. The only reason you always win is because you fight women and peasants.
—I'll kill you! —Clegane shouted, raising the sword above his head to let gravity deliver a blow that would have cleaved any normal man in half.
But instead of moving away, Vlad stepped forward twice and slipped inside his guard, blocking the giant's forearm with his own, then delivering a powerful punch to his face using his steel knuckles. The impact bent Gregor's nose, which began to bleed profusely.
First blood.
From the stands, Tywin watched with narrowed eyes. Things were not unfolding as he had planned, and that was unacceptable.
Cersei, meanwhile, looked ready to explode with rage. Her face was red, her teeth clenched, and her nails dug so hard into the arms of her chair that they left marks in the wood.
She wanted, no, needed this trial not to end in Oberyn's favor, or else she wouldn't feel she had made him pay for his blatant defiance.
—Normally, I'm not this talkative, you know? —Vlad commented, amused, as he stepped back and allowed the Mountain to recover— But I promised I'd make this a spectacle, and I intend to keep that promise.
Gregor charged again in sheer anger, without strategy, while Vlad stayed half a step out of reach of the greatsword, almost as if dancing. The giant grew more frustrated and furious by the second, but Vlad wasn't going to grant him the satisfaction of landing a blow—not yet.
After a thrust that Vlad dodged with a fluid spin, he lifted his sword, pointing directly at Gregor's head. The man widened his eyes in surprise, but the blade apparently missed him by a few millimeters.
Gregor staggered back in alarm, but when he realized Vlad had "missed," he smirked.
—You missed, pretty boy.
—Not at all —Vlad replied with a malicious smile— It's a clean cut, right above your eyes—the kind that bleeds.
Almost immediately, the Mountain felt a hot liquid trickling down from his brow, blurring his vision as he had to wipe it away every few seconds with the inside of his gauntlet.
—Damn bastard —he roared before charging him again, slamming forward with his shoulder and using what he believed was his unbeatable weight to knock him down.
Vlad allowed it, playing his role perfectly. The momentum made it easy for Gregor's next thrust to strike Vlad's sword at the precise angle to disarm him: the blade flew several meters away.
The crowd erupted, many rising to their feet, thinking they were about to see the fight's conclusion.
But when Gregor swung a horizontal cut with his massive greatsword, Vlad once again slipped into his guard, driving a sharp elbow into the joint of the arm holding the weapon. A crisp crack sounded, followed by a shout of pain as the sword dropped from his hand.
The Mountain retaliated with a punch Vlad allowed to land. The strength surprised him, it would've crushed the skull of any ordinary man.
Vlad spat the "blood" produced by the blow before flashing a stained grin.
—How about it? Hand-to-hand, then? —he asked mockingly, calmly unfastening the bracers on his arms.
He took a couple of steps back, shifting his weight onto his heels and rolling his shoulders as if warming up. The Mountain charged at him like a furious bull.
The first punch landed on Vlad's ribs. He let it connect cleanly.
—That would've been three ribs —he murmured as he leaned slightly to the side, almost as if thanking him for the hit— Good try, but not enough. I'm going to give you an anatomy lesson, Clegane. And you're not going to like it.
Before Gregor could raise another arm, Vlad drove his elbow into the inside of the giant's right elbow, and a sharp crack echoed.
—This is the radius —he announced loudly as the giant's arm went limp.
The crowd fell silent for an instant, as if they didn't fully understand what had just happened, then a growing murmur spread through the stands.
Gregor, red with fury, let out a roar and threw a right hook with his closed fist. Vlad dodged it with a quick turn and drove his reinforced knuckles into the inside of the thigh, just above the knee.
—Distal femur fracture —he said in an almost pedagogical tone— You'll notice it becomes difficult to keep your balance.
The Mountain stumbled slightly, though he still remained upright; his body seemed unwilling to accept what he already knew.
A new punch struck Vlad across the face, the impact whipping his head to the side and knocking him briefly to one knee as a thin line of blood trickled down his brow. The crowd roared, and Cersei shot up from her seat.
—Come on! —she shouted— Kill him!
But Vlad wiped the blood with his bare hand and burst out laughing, rising as if he weighed nothing at all. In any other situation, he would have turned Gregor into one of them, humans with physical capabilities like his were unheard of, but unfortunately for Gregor, this was a show, nothing more.
—I see you still have strength in your left hand. I'll need to correct that.
He then slipped to the side, ducked beneath the next blow, and drove his fist directly into the giant's left wrist with a precise twist.
—This one's called the ulna —he announced with a smile, just as a fresh crack rang out and Gregor released another howl of pain, stumbling back.
And for the first time, he looked at Vlad not with rage, but with fear.
—You don't understand, do you? —Vlad asked, advancing step by step— This isn't a fight.
The crowd in the stands had stopped cheering; silence now reigned.
Gregor, swaying, raised his fists out of sheer instinct. Vlad spun and delivered a perfect side kick to the outside of his right leg. The fibula snapped with a dull crack.
The giant finally collapsed, falling to one knee with a scream of agony. Vlad crouched beside him without rushing.
—This is an operating table —he continued calmly— And I am the surgeon.
He then delivered a powerful uppercut that knocked Gregor flat on his back, mounted him, and unleashed a barrage of devastating blows to his face, which bled profusely as the metal knuckles distorted his features.
Suddenly, Vlad stopped. Gregor, and the crowd, thought it was mercy, a moment of reprieve… but it wasn't. Vlad simply shifted his posture, dropped low, spun sharply, and trapped Gregor's right arm between his legs. Falling backward while locking the forearm between his arms, he pulled, lifting his hips and forcing the elbow backwards against its natural angle.
Gregor let out a scream so raw and so horrific it froze the blood of every witness. Even Cersei, in all her cruelty, had never seen a man dismantled this way.
The crack was dry and sickening, the joint twisting as if it had been built in reverse.
Gregor tried to mumble something, but blood, along with a sharp punch from Vlad, silenced him instantly. Vlad wasn't going to let him surrender.
He rolled him over with a single, brusque motion, seized the other arm, and this time didn't use his legs. He sat on Gregor's chest, grabbed the left wrist, and pulled upward while pressing down on the shoulder, forcing the joint until the humerus nearly broke through the skin as it dislocated.
Another grotesque crunch, another scream of agony.
Cersei covered her mouth. The crowd was frozen. Some children cried. No one had ever seen anything like this.
But Vlad was not finished.
Without losing composure, he stood and dragged Gregor by the leg, turning him effortlessly with one hand. Then he dropped onto his back, trapping one of Gregor's legs between his own and securing the ankle under his arm.
He pushed with his whole body while pulling the heel, forcing the knee far beyond its natural motion. The femur and tibia cracked together, as if the giant's body were collapsing inward.
Gregor no longer screamed, he only convulsed, foam bubbling at his mouth.
Vlad rose with a feral smile, wiped the blood from his face, and turned toward the other leg of the fallen colossus.
He repeated the process, but slowly this time, savoring every second. He trapped the limb precisely, leaned back, and when the ankle bent where it was never meant to, the joint gave way with a wet, sickening snap.
Gregor lay on the ground like a broken puppet, his limbs twisted into unnatural angles.
Vlad mounted him again, delivering blow after blow into a face no longer recognizable, just a shapeless mass of blood and crushed bone.
Then he stopped for a moment.
He raised his gaze and found Oberyn, seated not far away, still weak in his chair but wearing an expression of blissful satisfaction. Vlad held his gaze, and Oberyn slowly nodded. For him, it was enough.
Without taking his eyes off the Dornish prince, Vlad lifted both arms over his head. And like a gorilla, he brought them down with such force that Gregor's head exploded in a rain of brain matter, bone, and blood, drenching the sand and anyone standing too close.
----
Good evening, guys. I've got good news and bad news: the bad news is that I had a little accident with my motorbike at work and had to rest since Friday. The good news is that it wasn't serious, and I'll be back to work on Tuesday, so that's good.
The even better news for you is that, since I was stuck in bed, I managed to write, so here's the new chapter (it's 6 a.m. over here, I swear I have no self-control).
Also, I'm happy to announce that I've reached 100 chapters of this fanfic. Yay.
I'll try to write more over the next two days. If I manage to finish another chapter, I'll definitely publish one more this week.
If not, but you still want an extra chapter… I don't know, maybe reach 200 power stones? Seems doable.
By the way, I've been increasingly thinking about writing a Troll Hunter fanfic by Guillermo del Toro. What do you think of this idea?
Good night (or day), guys.