Game of Thrones: Bastard? I’m the Damn Heir!

Hundreds of people packed themselves into the modest courtyard.

And after carving out a bare patch of ground in the middle, it became even more cramped.

At the center of this open space, aside from the aurochs Kal had captured—still roasting over the coals since it couldn't be moved—there were now four freshly built bonfires surrounding the area, set up to illuminate the impromptu dueling ground.

"Boss...!"

Just then, Kossi and the others—who had watched all of this unfold with anxious hearts but hadn't dared to speak up—stepped forward.

In their hands, they each carried pieces of Kal's armor, the same gear he'd taken off just yesterday.

Once it was clear Kal really intended to go through with the trial by combat, Kossi had immediately gathered people to fetch the equipment.

Seeing the gear in Kossi's hands, Kal was momentarily surprised.

Then he glanced at the band of idiots who'd been scraping by with him for the past half year—and who had, in the end, chosen to keep following him.

Seeing the concern on their faces, he slowly began to smile.

Then he stood up from the wooden stool beneath him and gave Kossi's shoulder a firm slap.

"You should have more faith in your boss, Kossi!"

With that, Kal burst out laughing, shoved Kossi aside, and strode toward the open space.

And for a moment, not just Kossi, but everyone nearby who'd been watching, was left stunned by the gesture.

Even Tyrion—who had been sitting in a corner, eyes downcast and shoulders slumped in despair—looked up in shock when he saw Kal moving to fight without donning his armor.

Seeing this, Tyrion couldn't stay angry—he got up and jogged after Kal, cutting him off.

"Damn it, are you trying to get yourself killed?!"

"If you're that eager to die, the least you could do is pay back the gold dragons you owe me first!"

Kal was surprised to see Tyrion stepping forward in concern.

For a moment, he realized—maybe he wasn't doing so badly in life after all.

He grinned and grabbed Tyrion by the collar, then spun and handed him off to Hall, who caught him smoothly. The man was known for his quick sword, and his hands were just as fast.

"When I get back, we can settle once and for all who owes whom."

Kal had no intention of explaining that he could take on ten men by himself, nor did he have any interest in wearing that armor—which, in a one-on-one duel, was more of a burden than a help.

So, under a flood of conflicted stares from the crowd—

Kal stepped directly into the cleared space, planted his longsword vertically before him, rested both hands atop the hilt, and calmly fixed his gaze on Cersei in the distance.

Then the corner of his mouth twitched upward, and he chuckled softly.

He dipped his head slightly toward King Robert in a show of respect, then turned to Cersei and spoke: "Your Grace, Queen Cersei Lannister—who accuses me of attempting to harm the Prince—have you chosen your champion?"

"Because my sword tells me…"

"It's starving for blood."

Kal didn't waste time. No formalities. Just a casual push for Cersei to hurry up and send someone to their death.

And seeing Kal—utterly reckless and foolish, showing up for trial by combat wearing only a leather jerkin—Cersei's smile only grew brighter.

She didn't even bother responding to the provocation.

Instead, she turned her gaze to Jaime Lannister, who had been standing silently at her side the whole time.

The Kingslayer was still clad in the signature white armor and cloak of the Kingsguard.

But at that moment, his expression was strangely blank, eyes fixed on Kal as if lost in thought.

Yet when he heard Kal's challenge and felt the heat of Cersei's gaze on him—

Jaime looked down at her for a moment… and still didn't step forward.

Something inside him wavered. For reasons he couldn't quite name, he felt a pang of regret for ever agreeing to this whole affair.

But while he hesitated, Ser Meryn Trant and Ser Boros Blount exchanged a quick glance, sensing something was wrong.

And right then, seeing Jaime still rooted in place, Cersei finally lost patience. Her brow furrowed.

"Jaime?!"

"What are you doing?!"

Her voice cut sharply, full of displeasure at his hesitation and cowardice.

Hearing her scolding, Jaime looked up at Kal Stone again—and the struggle in his eyes only deepened.

He had no choice but to close his eyes and take a deep breath.

"…Sorry, Cersei. I can't do it."

With those words, Jaime opened his eyes again and looked at Kal, then cast another glance toward Tyrion, who had gone over to Kal's side.

Then, without hesitation, he threw back his white cloak and turned to leave—right in front of more than a hundred people watching.

Seeing Jaime run away at such a critical moment—something she never imagined—Cersei was livid, her fury practically boiling over.

"You—you—!"

Cersei instinctively opened her mouth to curse.

But before she could get the words out, the two Kingsguard knights who had been standing silently behind the King and Queen—Meryn Trant and Boros Blount—exchanged a quick glance.

In their eyes, a glint of opportunity flashed at the same time.

"Your Grace, the noble Queen, allow me the honor of serving as your champion!"

"Your Majesty, I would consider it the greatest honor to fight on your behalf and defend the Prince's name in trial by combat!"

The moment Jaime left, both Meryn Trant and Boros Blount immediately stood up, realizing they had a rare chance to step in and seize glory.

Without hesitation, they dropped to one knee before Cersei, offering themselves as her champions and proclaiming it an honor to serve her.

Seeing the two men step forward to fill the gap, Cersei—who had just been humiliated by Jaime's desertion—finally managed a smile.

But Robert's face shifted ever so slightly.

He didn't say a word. He simply cast a complicated look at Cersei, then turned his attention back to Kal.

His eyes were deep and unreadable, veiled beneath the night sky. No one could tell what he was thinking.

In the center of the arena, Kal was just as surprised that Jaime Lannister had refused to act as Cersei's champion at the last moment.

He'd expected his opponent to be Tyrion's brother—Cersei's lover—the famed Kingslayer.

He had even been debating whether or not to kill Jaime Lannister on the spot.

But to think the man would walk away, simply because he believed the trial was unjust…

Now that Jaime had stepped back on his own, Kal felt a sense of relief.

After all, if he had truly killed or crippled Jaime here—

He wouldn't have known how to explain it to Tyrion afterward.

The dwarf had stood up for him at a time like this. And that, to Kal, already made him a true friend.

But now, seeing that Jaime wasn't coming—and instead, the remaining two Kingsguard looked as if they had just spotted a pile of gold they couldn't wait to lunge at—

Whatever lingering burden Kal had in his heart vanished completely.

So before Cersei could even decide which of them to choose—

Kal made the choice for her.

He raised his longsword and pointed it at the two men, his voice thick with scorn and contempt.

"No need to choose. You can both come at me."

"Don't worry, I don't think this is unfair at all!!!"

Kal's tone was startlingly calm as he said this.

But within that voice—there was no mistaking the contempt, the disdain, and that faint trace of arrogant pride. Anyone with ears could hear it.

The crowd was stunned. Not only had Kal chosen a trial by combat, but now he was arrogantly declaring he'd take on two opponents at once. Everyone stared at him in utter disbelief.

Amid the gawking silence, Ser Meryn Trant and Ser Boros Blount—both still waiting expectantly for Queen Cersei to choose one of them as her champion—were momentarily dumbfounded by Kal's words.

Then, anger twisted across their faces.

Because this had nothing to do with generosity.

It was pure and blatant contempt. A direct, unfiltered insult.

Yet before either man could react to Kal's provocation, Cersei—who had still been weighing her options—suddenly lit up.

"Truly?!" she asked eagerly, almost as if afraid Kal would take it back.

Hearing such shameless enthusiasm left not only the crowd at a loss—

Even Meryn Trant and Boros Blount forgot to hurl insults back at Kal for the slight.

Instead, both turned to Cersei with expressions that seemed to say, "Are you serious?!"

After all, everyone had assumed Kal was merely provoking them—playing mind games before the fight. A two-on-one was obviously unfair, no matter how you looked at it.

If he won, it would be seen as dishonorable.

If he lost, well, that spoke for itself.

And this was a trial by combat. Sacred. Founded on fairness. Untouchable by even kings.

Its outcome, once decided, had to be accepted by all, even royalty.

No one expected the queen to actually take him up on it.

But when Cersei Lannister shamelessly agreed, Kal didn't look surprised in the slightest.

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