Raiden's Storm (ASOIAF)

Whoosh.

Edric, a swifter warrior, sidestepped Baegel's mace and swiftly countered with a thunderous blow into his side. Baegel, his armour cracking, felt a surging wave of pain. He attempted to retaliate with a flurry of attacks, but Edric evaded them all with his tremendous focus.

Just as Edric was about to reply with an attack, an arrow came straight for his head.

At the last moment, he noticed it and tilted his head to the side, which caused the arrow to deflect off his helmet.

Then, there was another attacker with a great axe, aiming to smash it against Edric's legs.

He managed to escape, only to be trapped between three more attacks. A hammer to his left, a flail to his right and a spear to his back. He chose to tilt his body to the side and grab the spearman, throwing him into the other two. All three collided with each other.

Before he could counter, he realised he would again be interrupted by the growing crowd. He looked for any points of weakness - knowing that the constant use of magic would only drain him quicker.

This melee was a marathon, not a sprint.

'Not so much of a good time to be popular...'

The greatest problem was differentiating between who actually wanted him killed versus who was just competing and wanted to get him out of the way...

They may as well all be the same.

"Stop interrupting Big Baegel's fight!" Baegel shouted, raising his mace. "I'll smash you all!"

As he charged through the crowd, he hit three men to the ground with his mace. Edric raised an eyebrow... the brute was helping him in his own strange way.

"Those who would face me with such dishonourable methods..." Edric raised his voice, the sky darkening in response. "Will be shown no mercy."

A booming wave of thunder struck the earth in the distance, leading to most men's hearts jumping instinctively.

~

[Arya's POV]

While most of the melee looked like a melee on the ground, a certain corner of it was a large crowd circling around Edric. In a strange turn of events, Baegel had sided with Edric and the two fought off the onslaught of opponents with their backs to each other. If anyone didn't know any better, one might think they had been the best of friends all along... yet they hardly knew each other.

As the fighting dragged on, Edric's style became increasingly brutal. Instead of stepping around his opponents, he let his armour do the work and focused on attacking.

As for his attacks.... they were not kind.

Arya had witnessed a direct blow to the head that may as well have forced the man's soul out of his body. A bone-crushing strike to the chest that shattered both armour and ribcage. A swing that broke a man's arm and left him crying all the way out of the tourney grounds.

Wherever Edric and Baegel swung, they broke something.

As the number of casualties increased, the number of men willing to face the two giants drastically diminished. They singlehandedly defeated over fifty men and killed around thirty in the act. The rest either ran or conceded with severe wounds.

Afterwards, Baegel and Edric would part ways. They seemed to have exchanged words before separating. Arya couldn't hear a single word due to the distance, however.

"His Grace seems to be treating it as a true battle." Arys Oakheart remarked. "He's not holding back at all, and the number of deaths shows it."

"He's countering force with force," Arthur replied, shrugging his shoulders. "I know His Grace would not kill without reason. He warned that surrounding him would not end well, and he's keeping his word."

Arya found herself agreeing with Arthur. There was clearly something suspicious about the way Edric had been surrounded.

Unlike the last melee, the grounds were not covered by a dense fog, meaning the crowd could clearly see Edric fight. While most of the ladies seemed frightened by the excessive violence the King displayed, Arya did not mind it at all... if anything, she strangely enjoyed it.

The melee raged on for hours leading into the evening, with Edric pacing himself rather well despite his wounds catching up to him. While he took down one opponent after the other, Rhaerra's blue cloaks dominated the other side of the field. They worked well as a team, taking down over a hundred participants while looking out for each other. Their numbers had only decreased by five throughout.

In the end, only those two parties would remain.

Twenty-five on one.

~

"You foreigners are defeating the very purpose of a melee," Edric remarked, leaning on his warhammer. "Working as a team? It's a free-for-all. Not that hard to understand."

"We've freely chosen to defeat you, Your Grace." Valaegor Raelaereonor replied with a slight grin. "Then we'll simply decide the champion amongst ourselves. Besides, the rules are a bit blurry. Yes, it is a free-for-all... yet it says nothing about focusing on the defeat of one person."

"We simply believe you to be the greatest threat to our victory, that's all."

"Makes no difference, really." Edric took a deep breath. "I'll just beat you all."

As for Big Baegel, he stood in the background.

"That's quite arrogant of you." Taelor, an archer, remarked as he steadied his bow. "Maybe if you were fresh, you'd be able to. As you are now, you're on your last legs, King Storm."

"Who are you, again?"

"Taelor."

"Taylor? It's rather low-hanging fruit, that name." Edric chuckled. "It seems to me that Rhaerra prefers picking men with amusing names rather than any genuine skill."

"We'll see about that."

"The fact that you all need to surround me is telling enough. Either it's a compliment to my ability, you're all cowards, or you have shit for ability. Might be a bit of all three."

"It's something else, my friend." Daman shook his head. "We must defeat you with the utmost efficiency to succeed in tomorrow's team battles. It is nothing personal."

"Indeed." Valaegor nodded. "It is nothing personal."

"So... that's how it is." Edric chuckled. "Rhaerra values winning over honour?"

"Pretty much, yes."

"Can't argue with that." He shrugged. "I tend to fight with similar principles. You know-"

"Bastard, you're just trying to catch your breath." Valaegor frowned, interrupting him.

"No, not at all." Edric shook his head innocently. "Pfft, do you really think a few seconds of energy would change anything? It's twenty-five to one. I have no chance of winning. Still... I am a most talkative, social, gregarious man. I can't deny my nature."

"... You just said you'd beat us all."

"It's simply peerless confidence in one's abilities, to the point of delusion. You might see it as pompous arrogance." Edric sighed. "You see, there's a thing called Mamba Mentality. Ever heard of it?"

"What sort of nonsense is that?"

"It's all about consistency, the goal of becoming a better man than you were yesterday. It's an endless road of improvement, one that requires dedication that falls into obsession. You have to zone out all of the distractions and completely focus on the task at hand, whatever you want to succeed at. It's about overcoming your fears and being unashamed of yourself even when you fall short and make mistakes."

"Another aspect... is fire and passion. Killer instinct." Edric explained, grinning slightly as his yapping seemed to pay dividends. They all wanted to hear him finish, forgetting about the melee entirely. "When it comes to competitions, you must come with the mindset of wanting to absolutely slaughter your opposition. It means not settling for 'good enough' but rather going all in, with the raging desire to dominate all who stand in your way."

"This is a mentality that works for all walks of life, not just fighting... for no one is perfect at anything, whether it is learning an instrument, painting, writing-"

"Alright, that's enough." Daman chuckled, shaking his head. "I will admit that your words are quite moving and insightful. You can talk as much as you want after you concede."

"Well, I do feel a little rejuvenated." Edric raised his warhammer. "Since it's so late in the night, let's not drag it out."

"Says the person dragging it out..." Valaegor raised an eyebrow.

"Come on, I thought we were all becoming friends."

"Scatter around him." Daman stepped forward, waving his hand in a circular motion. "Apply pressure; do not overstep and get too close. Support each other when he does strike."

"Guess no more talking..."

As they surrounded him, Edric noted that they didn't push him to the point of using magic to get out. Rather, their attacks were light and from a safer distance. When Edric did seek to counter, the rest seemed to move forward and support... precisely as Daman had wished.

They were all disciplined men, even Valaegor, when commanded by Daman.

Edric had taken a few hits and had nothing to show for it regarding dwindling their superior numbers.

It was beyond frustrating the way they fought. Edric felt the fury in his heart building.

The clouds in the sky continuously increased, clouding the stars beyond.

'These guys are good...'

The effectiveness of his Hyper-Focus had waned in both length and consistency. As for his swings, he began to feel the consequences of his warhammer's immense weight. Because of that, he couldn't swing nearly fast enough to hit his opponents. Each missed swing looked slower and more forced than the last...

At last, Edric let go of his warhammer.

It had begun to rain.

"Concede. You can't win." Daman said, seeing his exhaustion take hold.

"... I can't win," Edric repeated with an amused tone as he slowly raised his left hand. "What made you decide that?"

"Step back," Daman commanded. "He's about to use his magic."

"That's right, you better step back. Further and further. You can go all the way to the opposing end if you'd like." Edric chuckled, stepping forward as the rain poured. "You're all an extraordinary bunch, I'll admit. Disciplined when it matters. Organised, skilled. Even so, there's only so much fighting you can endure, only so hard you can hit, only so fast you can run."

Edric took a deep breath.

"Problem is... I just don't have the limits that you do."

BOOM.

BOOM.

BOOM.

Lightning struck all around him as he seemed to take in the refreshing air. A dense fog began to spread out to the point that no man could see even half a metre beyond themselves. The air grew heavy, too.

"Damn him... I can't see my own hands!"

"What do we do, captain?"

"Keep close to each other."

"What's wrong? Where did all that confidence go?"

Edric mused as he walked through the fog. He grasped his warhammer, his strength renewed by the lightning. This was his second wind. His eyes glowed purple so vibrantly that their glow was visible past his helmet.

"Using magic to win... cheap trick." Valaegor remarked. "Why don't you fight like a man?"

"Ser with a tongue twister for a name, what do you call your ambush? The moment I even the odds a little, you start pissing yourself."

Edric chuckled, seeing through the fog and walking around his opposition.

"This is a little bit much regarding evening the odds."

"Aww, poor child. I'll disperse the fog just for you."

The fog suddenly dispersed completely, revealing Edric's figure, which surged with lightning. Taelor readied an arrow alongside the other archers. When their arrows soared towards him, he simply held out his hand, and they stopped in the air... turning.

He waved his hand towards them, and the arrows soared out with added lightning, striking five men and electrocuting them into falling to the ground.

"How... did he do that?"

"Hahaha..."

Edric stepped forward with mad laughter, rushing straight at them swifter than any man in full plate armour should be allowed to. His rush led to hesitation among their ranks, and before they knew it, he had already struck one man to the ground.

One was brave enough to strike him with a hammer, only for Edric to grasp its head with his palm... yank the hammer from him with a single hand, toss it into the air, catch it and smash his head with it.

"What in Seven Hells... is he even human?"

"I'm not fighting him... I concede!"

He proceeded to wield both hammer and warhammer in thunderous harmony, absolutely destroying their formation singlehandedly. When Taelor and his archers tried to fire at him again, he used one of their teammate's bodies to block the arrows before tossing the body to them with a violent surge of wind.

He then came upon them too, only for them all to concede.

Edric restrained himself and turned to the rest.

"Everyone... concede." Daman ordered. "There is no use in suffering further wounds for a hopeless contest."

"..." Edric glared at Valaegor, who turned away. "What a shame, I was saving you for last."

"I am honoured." Valaegor chuckled, shaking his head. "A little melee isn't worth my life, however."

Edric watched as everyone departed from the tourney grounds... all but one person.

Big Baegel.

"Well, looks like it's just us now."

"Big Baegel got tired of people interrupting. We can fight one on one now." Baegel raised his mace. "Boy King must be tired, though."

"Tired?" Edric scoffed. "I'm good as new."

"Big Baegel can wait. We can have a meal before fighting."

"... A meal?" Edric raised an eyebrow. "You can't be serious."

"Big Baegel hungry. Big Baegel can't fight well when hungry. Boy King hungry too."

"Eh..." Edric's stomach grumbled. "Mayhaps a little. Let's just get this over with."

"Hm... fine. Baegel beat Boy King quickly and then eat!"

Baegel stepped closer to Edric slowly... before accelerating rapidly and jumping to tackle him.

Edric managed to react in time and step aside, only for Baegel to grab his cape and drag him down with it.

Clang.

Edric fell to the ground, and Baegel took an unwinded blow from Edric's warhammer onto his right shoulder. He proceeded to grab the shaft and force it out of his hand - tossing it far away. Edric managed to kick him off and surged back to his feet.

In turn, Baegel dropped his mace.

"No weapons. Fight like a real man."

"That's fine by me."

Edric's eyes lit up with a competitive edge.

Baegel began with an exceptionally accurate roundhouse kick that almost took Edric's head off. He managed to dodge and aimed to counter with a straight punch, only for Baegel to grab hold of his arm. He locked it and used his strength to toss Edric back to the ground.

While he was dazed, Baegel aimed to throw himself directly at Edric...

'Are we in the WWE now?'

Edric rolled away, watching him crash into the ground.

He got up and waited for Baegel to stand up himself... only to start whaling on him with a ruthless combination of punches. Baegel took a lot of pain before countering with a mighty punch of his own straight at Edric's helmet.

The punch left him dazed... leading to Baegel charging forward and taking his head down with a lariat.

... Yeah. Their fight went back and forth for well over ten minutes.

Edirc showed off his own wrestling bag, choke-slamming Baegel down with a single hand and lifting him up with both hands before kneeing his back. Even though he had never practised these moves before, they came to him naturally in the moment... and the crowd ate it all up.

As their fight continued, it became clear who was superior.

Edric knocked off Baegel's helmet and continued relentlessly punching him. Left, right, left, right.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Baegel began to bleed from his nose, summoning the strength to grab one of Edric's hands and smashing his forehead into Edric's. They both stumbled back. Baegel, even more so than Edric.

He got on his knees, lowering his head.

"Big Baegel... lost."

"... Finally." Edric nodded, chuckling. "I thought I'd have to kill you."

"King of Westeros is the strongest in the world and has Big Baegel's respect."

"You have my respect too, you strong bastard." Edric walked over to him and offered his hand. "Let's get you up."

Baegel took his hand, and Edric helped him up.

"Storm King... fitting name. No man can stop a storm."

"... Indeed."

With Baegel admitting defeat, Edric was crowned champion. He took the purse at his own pace, looking very clearly winded from all the fighting. The crowd had cheered as he walked from one end the other, taking off his helmet.

"It's deep in the night... so I won't keep you lot for much longer," Edric announced, glancing at the large purse of coins. "The champion's purse was meant for one worthy competitor who proved himself greater than the others. Alas, it wouldn't be right if I presented a reward and simply took it for myself. As I was the one who emerged victorious, I choose to dedicate the winnings to you all... the people!"

The crowd cheered as Edric gave a heartfelt speech.

"This gold shall build homes for people who need it, put food on the table of those who scarcely see much of it and bring joy to those who lack it!"

He smiled, lowering his hands.

"That will be tomorrow, however... now is a time for rest."