Game of Dragonborn.

Chapter 92 - The trial of Lord Stark 02.

[Chapter Size: 2600 Words.]

Third Person POV.
Kingsland.

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The crowd's screams continued as Lord Stark waited, helpless, for his death to come.

However, what he did not expect was that, for a second, silence took over the square in front of the Great Sept of Baelor. For a brief moment, he thought his life had ended right there, that his death had been painless. Lord Stark did not even feel his head being removed from his neck, thinking that this was how one died.

However, that thought was shattered when, suddenly, a cry of surprise echoed once more through the square, making Lord Stark realize that he was still there.

A moment later, a sword fell before him, striking the ground with a metallic clang. He opened his eyes, seeing the massive blade of the King's Executioner lying in front of him, as if it had been dropped at the exact moment it was meant to kill him.

His eyes widened, fixed on the sword, and then he looked up. The executioner was collapsing to his knees beside him, and the Lord of Winterfell watched as the man fell like a puppet near the blade, an arrow embedded in his neck. The man choked on his own blood, his eyes wide with agony, until he collapsed to the ground, still struggling to breathe, dying slowly.

Everyone seemed stunned by what had just happened. The king turned toward the spot where the arrow had been fired from. Along with his men, he spotted, atop a rooftop, a figure holding a bow.

Unnoticed due to the distance, the archer materialized another arrow from his dimensional space and raised his weapon once more, preparing to shoot.

"That man, up there! Kill him!" the king immediately exclaimed, seeing the bow being aimed once again.

"Protect the king!" Barristan Selmy shouted, alarmed.

The Kingsguard members rushed to surround Joffrey, while the entire crowd stared in shock at the figure on the rooftop. The archer, however, simply smiled at their desperation. With a swift motion, he adjusted his bow and fired.

The arrow cut through the air at high speed, striking Joffrey directly in the knee. The impact made the king scream in pain and collapse backward, trembling and clutching his leg as blood gushed out.

"Joffrey! My Joffrey!" Queen Cersei screamed in despair, rushing to him.

The Kingsguard quickly raised their shields around the king, trying to protect him while assessing his condition. The City Watch began to act, aiming their bows at the archer on the rooftop, preparing to fire.

The man merely watched, toying with them. When four archers took position to attack him, he prepared four arrows simultaneously, aligning them perfectly. He released the bowstring, and the projectiles sped through the air. Each found its mark with precision: two soldiers fell with arrows in their necks, another was struck in the head, and the last, in the stomach—having been positioned a few steps higher than the others. All collapsed before they even had time to react.

Two more archers began to approach, but before they could fire, he loosed another rapid sequence of arrows, unable to take them both down with a single shot, but killing them within seconds.

"Quick! Get my son out of here!" Cersei screamed in desperation amidst the voices of the crowd.

Sansa, standing beside the queen, watched everything with wide eyes, seeing Joffrey in that state.

"Kill him! Kill him now!" Joffrey shouted, his voice full of hatred and desperation, unable to bear the pain in his wounded knee.

'Well... It seems they still underestimate me.' Jon thought to himself as he grabbed another arrow.