In the afternoon, the infantry from the Westerlands finally arrived.
Kevan immediately expressed his concern upon meeting Tywin: "It's too dangerous. What if the Tyrells detain you? You could have sent someone else."
"They won't," Tywin said, looking at the Soldiers in the camp. Some were repairing weapons, others were bandaging wounds.
Although they were all exhausted, none of them complained.
"These are the elites of the Westerlands," Tywin suddenly sighed.
Kevan also nodded. These Soldiers were excellent. If they were ordinary Soldiers, they probably would have disbanded by now. If it weren't for them—
Suddenly, Kevan thought of a terrifying consequence.
If they didn't have these Soldiers, or if Tywin were gone, what would happen to the Westerlands?
What would happen to the Lannister?
He certainly didn't trust Damion, who was currently stationed at Casterly Rock.
He only knew that if these armies suffered massive losses, or if something happened to Tywin—
This terrifying possibility made Kevan shiver. Such a thing absolutely could not happen.
He prayed that Tywin's 'verification' would be successful.
He prayed the Red Keep had not been captured.
He prayed Joffrey was still alive.
And the Seven Gods seemed to have heard his prayers and responded.
"My Lord Duke, news from the Tumbler's Flat—the Red Keep is still in our hands! That bastard failed to breach the Red Keep!"
Tywin had never even heard of the place name Tumbler's Flat, much less cared about it.
But this news made Tywin feel like a well-fed lion. He jumped to his feet and declared loudly: "Tell Lord Mace to launch a full-scale attack on King's Landing before noon tomorrow!"
On the other side, Joffrey inside the Red Keep was equally thrilled.
He stood on the arrow tower of the Red Keep, gazing out with a spyglass.
Grand Maester Pycelle was accompanying him.
Joffrey seemed to recall something and suddenly asked: "If The Mad King Aerys hadn't trusted my grandfather back then, could he have broken into King's Landing and the Red Keep?"
"Uh—"
Pycelle opened his mouth, unsure how to respond.
If he said they could break in, what if that scared Joffrey?
If he said they couldn't break in, Jon was currently holding Tywin off outside, wouldn't that still frighten the King who had fled the battle?
However, Pycelle was quick-witted. Based on the current situation, he guessed the answer Joffrey wanted.
"Your Majesty, Lord Tywin and Lord Mace have a combined army of 100,000. They will surely break into King's Landing. That bastard Jon only has a little over 10,000 men. He wants to defend the walls and attack the Red Keep? That is impossible."
"Mhm," Joffrey nodded, showing a satisfied expression.
A face flashed before his eyes, and he decided to go look for her—
Sansa, who was kneeling on the bed praying, was suddenly startled by the sound of the door being broken open.
Her body instinctively trembled violently, and her heart rate suddenly quickened.
Sansa knew Joffrey had come.
Before she could get out of bed to greet him, Joffrey was already standing before her.
"Kneel!"
Joffrey said coldly.
Sansa lowered her head, about to kneel as she had done before.
But she suddenly remembered something, and her half-crouched body rose back up.
"My brother is right outside," Sansa said, not daring to look at the face she had once adored. However, she left the second half of the sentence unsaid—"You are not the rightful King." Just resisting Joffrey had exhausted all her courage.
Seeing her defiance, Joffrey raised the whip in his hand, ready to strike.
Sansa tensed her body and turned her face, trying to protect herself.
But Joffrey suddenly thought of something and sneered.
"You don't know yet, do you? My grandfather, Lord Tywin, and Lord Mace from Highgarden, have gathered 100,000 troops and are attacking King's Landing. Before long, your brother will be a prisoner too. I heard his wolf is white, is that right? I'm going to skin your bastard brother and his wolf, and make a cloak for myself."
100,000 troops—
Hearing this number, Sansa's face turned pale, and her body swayed precariously.
Although she couldn't imagine exactly how many people 100,000 troops were.
But the total population of King's Landing was only 500,000.
This—
That familiar sense of despair struck her again, and Sansa collapsed onto the floor once more.
"Guards! Strip her naked and hang her on the walls of the Red Keep! Let everyone see!"
"No! Don't! Please don't do this, I beg you—"
Sansa pleaded, her tears streaming like broken pearls.
But Joffrey's guards paid no heed, dragging Sansa out by her arm, which was barely thicker than their fingers.
Just then, a blonde attendant suddenly rushed in and stopped them.
"Your Majesty, Jon has captured Myrcella Your Highness and Tommen Your Highness!"
"What!?"
On the other side, Cersei, who had been excited by the news of reinforcements, was now plunged back into worry.
She only had one hostage, but Jon had two.
She could still manage the simplest arithmetic.
But if it came to exchanging hostages, neither side was willing.
Or rather, both sides had an understanding.
Thus, Jon demanded that she give Sansa the softest bed, the most comfortable clothes, and the most delicious food. Only then would Myrcella and Tommen receive the same treatment.
Helpless, Cersei had no choice but to agree.
"Let's see how long you can gloat!" Cersei looked grimly toward the direction of the River Gate, her green eyes like the vertical pupils of a viper.
But soon her expression softened, and a look of worry appeared on her face.
"My children—"
"He said that?"
"Yes, my lord. He said he doesn't care about anything; he only wants Joffrey's life!"
Inside the room, a bald, rotund man was leaning by the fireplace.
He was alone, yet clearly, a second person was speaking.
Listening closely, the voice was coming from inside the wall.
This was the secret passage within the Red Keep.
"Understood." The fat man dressed in silk slipped a few copper stars into the wall and turned to leave.
This man was Varys, who was trying to offer Jon an escape route as a means of 'winning him over.'
He truly valued Jon's talent and wanted to send him across the Narrow Sea so he could serve Young Aegon in the future.
But Jon's attitude made his scalp prickle.
Everyone he had ever dealt with was motivated either by power or wealth.
But this Jon wanted nothing; he only wanted revenge.
He was even willing to disregard his own life for the sake of revenge.
Just as Roose Bolton's words failed to intimidate Jon when he staged the coup.
The escape plan he offered held no appeal whatsoever.
"What a pity," Varys shook his head.
He still didn't favor Jon's chances.
There were 100,000 troops outside.
How could Jon possibly hold them back?
This was King's Landing, with seven gates in total. The defensive line was stretched long, meaning weaknesses were everywhere.
Varys estimated that it wouldn't be long before Jon would be in a position where he had to put out fires everywhere.
He would then gradually lose his footing, struggle to cope, until he was defeated and became a prisoner.
Of course, given his personality, he might commit suicide.
Thinking of this, Varys decided not to consider Jon any further.
After all, he was already a 'futures' dead man.
If he wants to fight, let him fight. Let him further deplete the strength of the Usurper's Dynasty in preparation for Young Aegon's future return.
Soon, it was time for Tywin and Mace to launch the agreed-upon siege.
Surprisingly, the weather had cleared. Perhaps thanks to yesterday's rain, the skies above King's Landing were bright and sunny, and the sea breeze was gentle.
If not for the 100,000 troops already encircling King's Landing, one might almost believe it was just an ordinary day.
Naturally, they didn't need to attack every gate, but focused their main assault on the Lions Gate, the King's Gate, and the River Gate.
Tywin could tell that Jon was already 'frustrated and furious.'
A man on the city wall was seen holding a makeshift megaphone and yelling loudly at those below.
"Tywin! You bastard! I swear I will kill you—"
"Mace, you crowned a false king, you traitor! I will chop off your head—"
"If the Lannister have the guts, come and attack the city, you sons of bitches!"
To Tywin, these insults sounded no different from a harper's music, or perhaps the dying screams of prey.
"That bastard must know his end is near," Kevan said, and an almost imperceptible smile appeared on Tywin's lips.
"No rush. Let our armies prepare a little more, and then we will launch the attack simultaneously."
"Mhm," Kevan nodded.
Launching the attack at the same time was certainly the best strategy.
Their siege engines still required some inspection and preparation.
However, a servant suddenly came to Tywin to report: "Lord Duke, Lord Mace has launched his attack prematurely at the River Gate!"
"Wha—why?" Before Tywin could react, Kevan was greatly astonished.
Hadn't they agreed to attack together?
What kind of nonsense was inside Mace's head?
This was basic military knowledge!
Let's rewind half an hour.
Jon, having confirmed Mace's location via raven, had his Soldiers use megaphones to broadcast:
"Mace Tyrell! So what if you're a Lord Paramount!? You've never won a battle in your life! Seven or eight attempts and you couldn't even take Storms End, and now you think you can take King's Landing with fifty attempts!? You might as well go home and hug your children!"
As the saying goes, lies don't hurt people, but the truth is a sharp knife.
If someone said Randal Tarly couldn't fight, he would sneer and then draw his sword and cut them down.
But if someone said Mace couldn't fight, he would become furious.
"Attack the city! I will personally capture that bastard!"
"My Lord, now is not the time. We must wait for Lord Tywin to attack with us!" Randal Tarly advised. "Yes, Father, not now!"
"If you see your father shouting loudly before doing something, stop him; you won't be wrong!"
Garlan recalled his grandmother's teaching and firmly blocked Mace's path.
After much persuasion, Mace managed to calm down, barely.
But the insults from the city wall did not stop there.
Soon, even more vulgar and unbearable language came from the city wall:
"Mace! You can't fight, and you can't even breed sons properly! Lord Mace, your son is a homosexual!
Your son is a homosexual!
He likes men, don't you understand?
Both your sons are homosexuals!
And one of them is crippled!
Your daughter isn't a proper girl either. She was betrothed to Renly, who then died, and King's Landing fell just after she was betrothed to Joffrey.
Mace, you are a homosexual! He likes men!!!!"
"Let go of me! I'm going to kill him! I will personally kill this bastard!!!"
The enraged Mace could no longer be restrained by anyone.
How could the 'proud' Lord Mace possibly endure such slander?
Thus, the battle at the River Gate resumed after a gap of less than two days.
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