Robb went back faster than he left. The frantic Robb rounded up his fist and hit Geralt on the stomach. At the same time, he was punched hard and sent flying back.
"Stupid ant, do you think I'll let you get close?" Seeing Robb losing his mind, Geralt's smile grew wider. He raised his fist that was covered by golden magic, and with a bang, he punched the ground hard.
Golden light exploded on Robb's face, and Robb flew back quickly.
Robb's body was spinning in the air, and the blood spurting from his mouth was splashing everywhere. When his body landed, it still left a five- to six-meter-long trace on the floor.
Geralt did not move at all. He looked down at his abdomen where Robb had hit him. The burnt mark on his skin was healing.
"The big guy is so powerful, he can barely be my next husband."
"Stop fighting, stop it!"
"This is the wizard's battle. Robb stands up and continues!"
The two moved quickly, and when they discovered that Robb was going crazy, everyone started shouting. Some were concerned about Robb, and some continued to cheer for the two to continue fighting.
Ed and Caitlin also stood up nervously. They were not mages and did not dare to get too close to the venue. Caitlin pulled Ed's hand nervously and kept pulling. If the contest is stopped now, Robb will lose, and Ed will lose.
Knowing that Robb had undergone more cruel training, he turned to Werther for help.
"Quiet." In the noisy hall, Werther's voice was not loud, but it accurately reached the ears of everyone present, and the voice echoed many times in their left and right ears.
At this time, Witte had to stand up. Robb is not only a mage, he is also the heir of Winterfell. The two groups of mages and nobles have different views on fighting. The mages hope to have a hearty battle, and the nobles want
Robb can't lose his arms or legs, otherwise he won't be able to make great achievements with him if he just stays at home.
You can't slap the table and glare, and you don't want to use a loud voice to drown out everyone, because the eyes and voices of these northerners will be louder than yours. This superb skill of using fine magic to control the sound can make these unruly northerners
The mages were calm. This was Werther's recent experience in getting along with them.
Werther raised his left hand, and the hilt and fragments of the giant sword scattered on the ground were sucked into a ball in front of his palm. Putting the fragments on the dining table in front of Ed, Werther stood up and walked to a circle of vines: "The competition continues,
There's nothing wrong with him, Robb."
"Is Robb really okay?" Saran asked Werther, holding Sansa's hand tightly. She was very worried when she saw Robb lying motionless on the ground.
Werther smiled at her: "There are no good opponents in the North. You've never seen Robb really fight, have you?"
Saran shook his head. With Wirth guarding the field and seeing Wirth's smile, Saran felt relieved. At this time, a little boy ran over with a frightened look on his face, and Saran quickly hugged him to comfort him.
The seven or eight-year-old boy looked very similar to Robb. Werther knew who his son was without asking. During this time, there were many people in Winterfell, and the little boy was locked in a room by Saran to learn writing knowledge. Werther
I only saw him once when I first came here.
Werther reached out and touched the little boy's head: "Little Robb, Big Robb is fine. He will wake up later."
Perhaps because he saw his father being beaten to the ground or because the child was afraid of strangers, he buried his face in his mother Saran's arms and hid.
"Little Robb, I decided on this name before he was born." Saran blushed, which was a testimony of her love for Robb.
"Salan, you are smart and well-educated. I believe you can teach your children well, but you are too kind!" Werther's words suddenly became harsh.
Saran, who is now a mother and has assisted Robb in handling many things, is no longer an innocent little girl. After hearing what Werther said about herself, she thought for a moment that she had done nothing wrong, and then replied forcefully:
"Duke Werther, you don't need to worry about my own family affairs. Robb and I are living a good life, and the children are growing up healthily."
Holding little Robb in her arms, Saran raised her head and stared at Werther without showing any signs of weakness. Even if Robb is your apprentice, you can't point fingers at yourself! After having her grandson, Caitlin's character lost its edge, and now Star
Saran has the final say on matters within the Ke family.
With her fair skin, rosy lips, bunted blond hair and gorgeous aristocratic dress, Saran was beautiful, but with her arrogant little expression, Werther found it funny.
"Two men, one big and one small, have fallen into your gentle land! The younger one has lost his courage, and the older one has lost his spirit!" Werther inadvertently raised his finger while talking to her.
Saran's height was less than Werther's shoulders. Saran lowered her head along Werther's fingers, and saw the two white masses of snow and deep ravines on her chest exposed outside the collar. As someone who had been there before, she did not feel that Werter was unreasonable, but rather proud.
He puffed up his chest and said: "Duke Werther, I have given birth to two children now, and I will give birth to more in the future."
"I'm not talking about your two gentlemen." Seeing that she had misunderstood, Werther quickly interrupted:
"I mean you only teach children knowledge, but martial arts require practice, and character needs to go out and experience to become strong. Locking them in a castle will only make them shrink like turtles."
"It's so cold in the north, where do you want them to go?" Saran followed Werther's pace. It wasn't that she hadn't thought about this, but she felt that external conditions didn't allow it.
"Don't you always admire Kona? She will have a lot of time to communicate with you after tomorrow. I will also stay in Winterfell for a while after returning from the north. During this time, little Robb will be mine!" said Witte!
You have to be decisive and settle the matter directly.
Saran looked again: "What about Robb?"
"This trip to the north is very difficult. If Robb is still in this mental state, he will die!" Werther's tone was so serious that Saran trembled.
She couldn't pay homage to her relatives in the West as a Lannister, and she didn't want to lose Robb: "What should I do?"
"Just leave Robb to me." Werther felt that he had done a good thing and took them away from the woman.
The cold northern border is relatively closed, and women and children have migrated to Tyrosh in large numbers. Those who stay here are young adults and old people who are unwilling to leave home, as well as foreign mercenaries and prostitutes.
There was no chaos, only some robbers, thieves and a few drunken brawls. The knights following Robb also grew up, leaving him no chance to fight in person. Gradually, Robb became like a leader.
A noble lord instead of the melee mage he once was.
Eddard is still alive and well. He, the Duke and the Warden of the North, can handle government affairs. Robb cannot continue like this during the next battle with the White Walkers. Witte has more important arrangements for him. He must let him go.
He regained his fighting skills and confidence, otherwise he might not be able to come back just by leaving the Great Wall.
The magic flame on Robb who was lying on the ground extinguished for a while and then ignited again. He struggled to get up from the ground, repeatedly hitting the ground with his fists, and roaring again and again.
"Roar~~~" Robb was beaten into a coma for a short time. When he woke up, he had regained his senses. He was now venting his shame and anger because of his own incompetence and the fact that the Ice Sword was broken.