The training yard at Winterfell wasn't particularly large, and in the blink of an eye, Robb and the Wolfguards were nearly upon the Hound.
"Stop the charge!"
Robb suddenly shouted loudly, raising his left hand high and clenching his fist tightly. At the same time, he himself abruptly halted mid-charge.
The Wolfguards followed his command and all came to a stop. Though momentum caused everyone to take a few more steps before they could fully steady themselves, their formation remained intact.
This maneuver made the Hound's eyebrows twitch under his helmet. As someone who had a fearsome reputation, killing his first man at 12 years old, and having personally experienced brutal wars, he was impressed.
In every battle charge, the initially straight formation would always become a wavy, distorted line, eventually devolving into indistinguishable chaos as enemies clashed in close combat.
No army in Westeros had ever been able to maintain a perfect formation from charge to halt.
Although it didn't seem like such neat formations would be very useful, the fact that they could accomplish what others could not was something that made the Hound look at them with a little more respect.
"Everyone, dismiss!"
Robb gave the order to disband and sheathed the blunt training sword back into its scabbard at his waist. He smiled at Joffrey, who was surrounded by guards, and said, "Your Grace, our 'dainty' training is over. What do you think?"
Joffrey, who had been ridiculed by Robb, didn't respond. His face turned from pale to red, and veins popped out on his forehead.
"Haha, did you see that? Looks like he pissed himself!"
"And he calls us dainty? He should take a look in the mirror."
"Shh, keep it down! The dainty Prince might hear you!"
The saying goes, "The vassals of my vassals are not my vassals," and the northern vassal heirs had no intention of giving the Prince any face. As they turned to disband, they loudly mocked Joffrey's earlier taunts in groups of twos and threes.
"Get out of my way!"
Joffrey couldn't tolerate this kind of insult. He kicked aside a guard next to him and shoved past the Hound.
He hastily drew his jeweled sword and pointed it at Robb, who was already walking away, shouting,
"I! Joffrey Baratheon, heir to the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, of House Baratheon of Storm's End, eldest son of Robert Baratheon!
Hereby challenge Robb Stark, eldest son of the ruling house of the North, to a duel!"
With Joffrey's declaration, it was as if time had stopped. The entire training yard fell into a deep silence.
Robb's smile faded. He turned around and asked him, "Are you seriously challenging me to a duel?"
***
"Of course he's joking!"
Cersei entered the yard, accompanied by Jaime and her attendants, smiling as she spoke loudly,
"You boys want to spar with swords, go ahead. But don't turn it into a duel. A duel is something sacred."
Cersei casually downplayed the duel, turning it into a sword practice. She walked to Joffrey, now facing him, and adjusted his somewhat disheveled clothes, which had been ruffled in his agitation.
"Yesterday, I heard you were planning to ask Robb for some advice on swordsmanship. Why not now?
What do you think, my son?"
Seeing the icy expression on Cersei's face, Joffrey forcefully suppressed his anger and obediently nodded, answering, "Yes, Mother."
Cersei turned around, her expression once again softening into a warm smile, and she said to Robb, "Young Wolf, please don't hurt my son too badly!
Alright then, I'll leave you two to enjoy yourselves."
With that, she led Jaime and the others towards the direction of the main castle.
But there was no way Cersei could truly be at ease about her son. When they reached the edge of the training yard, both she and Jaime turned back to observe how things would unfold.
Since Cersei had put it that way, Robb had no choice but to engage in a sword practice with Joffrey.
In fact, deep down, Robb did entertain the thought of using the duel as an opportunity to "accidentally" get rid of tyrant Joffrey.
However, some people are just born to dance with death!
Thanks to Cersei's interruption, Joffrey's emotions had gradually calmed. He recalled how, in King's Landing, no one had ever bested him in swordplay with the knights.
He began to shout, demanding they fight not with training swords, but with real swords.
"I'm going to stop this!"
Jaime, standing at the edge of the training yard, frowned deeply and was about to step forward to halt this farce. But Cersei reached out and grabbed his elbow.
"No! Let them use real swords."
Cersei's green eyes wandered uncertainly, as if not focusing on anything, but the corners of her red lips lifted into a smile as she spoke to stop him.
"Are you mad? You know better than anyone that Joffrey's swordplay is always against opponents going easy on him. Our son knows nothing about swordsmanship; how could he possibly beat that wolf cub?
With real swords! What if that wolf cub 'accidentally' slips up, what then?"
Hearing this, Jaime quickly glanced around, making sure none of the guards could overhear. He leaned in closer to Cersei, speaking in a hurried whisper.
"Exactly! If Joffrey had the same talent for swordsmanship as you, it'd be great, but unfortunately..."
Seeing Jaime's handsome, anxious face, Cersei instinctively wanted to reach out and stroke it, but remembering where they were, she stopped herself. She continued, "It's precisely because he has no skill in swordsmanship that I believe the wolf cub couldn't possibly harm him.
In fact, if he did 'accidentally slip up' and hurt Joffrey, I'd be even happier.
Just look over there..."
After hearing Cersei's words, Jaime followed her gaze and looked up.
On the wooden balcony of the second floor of the main castle, Robert and Eddard, accompanied by a group of subordinates and servants, were patrolling and had just arrived there.
Clearly, they had already been drawn to the scene in the training yard and were watching with great interest from above.
"Once, the stag and the wolf became life-and-death friends in order to slay a dragon.
But the next generation not only won't become friends, they might even become enemies because of this. Isn't that exactly what we want to see?"
Cersei's words successfully persuaded Jaime.
However, he had no intention of merely watching from the edge of the training yard. Instead, he placed his right hand lightly on the hilt of his sword, tapping his finger rhythmically, and slowly walked toward Robb and Joffrey.
***
In the center of the training yard, the Wolfguards and Joffrey's guards had formed a circle, with Robb and Joffrey in the middle.
Joffrey had already unsheathed his longsword with a golden lion's head as the hilt, while Robb still held his training sword.
Robb insisted on not using a real sword, as he genuinely feared that he might accidentally cut down Joffrey.
Seeing Robb full of openings and still holding a blunt sword, Joffrey boldly launched the first attack.
He held the sword with both hands, positioning it by his right waist, and charged at Robb. As he neared Robb, he thrust the sword forward with both hands in a swift, clean stab.
Although the thrust lacked power and speed, the form was proper and graceful, showing he had practiced.
Joffrey's heart was set on drawing blood, so he used all his strength in this attack without holding back.
Robb simply sidestepped to the right, effortlessly avoiding Joffrey's pretty thrust with a slight shift of his feet.
At the same time, he raised his training sword and delivered a swift, powerful downward slash, striking Joffrey's golden lion sword with precision.
Hmm, before swinging his sword, Robb's mind flashed to a famous scene from the movie 'Brotherhood of Blades' in his previous life, picturing a swift Iaido slash.
Clang!!!
The sound of metal clashing rang out. Although Robb's blunt sword didn't break Joffrey's golden lion sword, it knocked the sword out of Joffrey's hand, sending it flying to the ground. The sheer force of Robb's slash caused Joffrey to tumble hard onto the muddy ground of the training yard.
"Ha, the Prince just ate dirt!"
"Hahaha, 'the sword master of King's Landing'? I thought he'd be more impressive! What a scary title."
"Shh, keep it down, the sword master might hear you!"
The on looking Wolfguards soldiers first broke into laughter, followed by what they thought were whispered sarcastic remarks.
Joffrey's face, now smeared with dirt, flushed red as he stood up, leaving his golden lion sword where it lay. With a resentful glare at Robb, he turned and ran out of the training yard.
The Hound quietly picked up Joffrey's sword and followed him without a word.