iron throne of ice and fire

Chapter 633 Strength and Sincerity

Green leaned back slightly, the Valyrian steel scale armor beneath his robes making a subtle, cold, hard sound as it struck the back of the chair.

He tapped his fingertips lightly on the armrest, met her gaze for a few seconds, and said, “Ms. Melisandre, your presence here means I can assume you have chosen to serve me?”

Melisandre's voice, still carrying the accent of the Jade Sea region, was captivating: "Yes, this is the will of the Lord of Light."

Just as she was about to approach again, Green suddenly stood up from his chair and paced back and forth several times with his hands behind his back.

He suddenly said, "You know I only do what is right. If your loyalty is sufficient, you don't need the guidance of beauty."

guide?

Melisandre chuckled as her "temptation" was interrupted, and the ruby ​​necklace swayed slightly between her collarbones.

Looking back...

She had to admit that Green's choice of words was always so thoughtful.

"See clearly the true nature of the world, and truth will surround you. All things will be clear at a glance. A powerful man is full of charm, just as birth, aging, sickness, and death are the instincts of mortals on earth."

Melisandre walked slowly over, placed a hand on Grimm's arm, and said, "My true god, the Lord of Light, has decreed that I must find the Lord of Light's chosen people—the Sons of Holy Flame. This is my mission."

She looked up at Green: "And I, I'm back on the right path."

Her slender fingers slowly moved up Grimm's arm: "Ultimate pleasure is a reward bestowed upon warriors of light by the King of Light. I am merely fulfilling my duty as a 'servant,' Your Majesty."

"no need."

Green moved to face her, his gaze unusually calm: "I am the king, and it is my duty to reward fairly."

Melisandre paused slightly. Just now... for a fleeting moment, she had once again sensed immense danger.

She had walked through countless years in the mortal realm, encountering many exceptionally outstanding men, but the one before her could only be described as... truly rare.

Stannis was quite good...

However, when he shares the same world with the person before him, perhaps his fate of failure is already sealed.

Melisandre smiled gently and said slowly, "Mortals cannot comprehend the power of the true god. As the king of mortals, you possess everything that exists in the mortal realm, and what 'He' can bestow upon you is naturally something that does not exist in the mortal realm—the true god's blessings far exceed the imagination of mortals."

"Is it hard to find on the ground...?"

As Green muttered to himself, he turned and walked toward the liquor cabinet, picked up the golden flask, and poured the liquor with a "whoosh."

He took a sip of his drink, remained silent for a moment, and then suddenly said, "These past few days, I've encountered someone who's been disturbing my sweet dreams... an unknown guy."

Upon hearing this, Melisandre's captivating eyes narrowed slightly: "Can I enter your dream?"

Green walked over and handed her another glass of wine: "It can also make me hallucinate. 'He' suggested that I... go back."

“Not an ancient alien god, ‘he’ is the god of night and fear.”

Green swirled the wine glass in his hand, and Melisandre took it. After a moment's pause, she said, "There's no other reason to do this."

Green shrugged and took a sip of Summer Red: "In preparation for a possible White Walker invasion, I have prepared an initial force of 200,000 to march north (including the 50,000 Rose Army that Prime Minister Mace led to the Wall)."

As he finished speaking, Melisandre's fiery red eyes brightened slightly, a rare display of emotion for her, if one disregarded her various deliberate actions...

Two hundred thousand troops.

This was an unexpected surprise; the king's determination to resist the cold god was stronger than she had anticipated, and Melisandre involuntarily took a step forward.

His gaze towards Grimm was incredibly gentle: "It's not a possibility, judgment is inevitable. You truly are a warrior of light. And the 'he' who disturbed you..."

Green reached out a hand and grabbed her slender, burning shoulder: "Find 'him,' and let me see your strength and sincerity."

Red eyes met brown eyes, and after a pause, Melisandre seemed to be confirming her suspicions: "You want to kill a god?"

Green countered, "Then, is 'he' God?"

His beautiful dream had only been disturbed a few times, and the tolerant King Green was not angry at all; he was merely trying to unravel 'his' perplexing behavior.

Melisandre's tone couldn't hide a hint of contempt: "In a sense, 'he' can indeed be called a god, however, in the face of ancient alien gods that mortals cannot speak of, 'he' should not be called a god."

"Tell me, will your god intervene?" With that, Green withdrew his hand, his eyes inadvertently glancing at her ruby ​​necklace. She too possessed superhuman beauty, but it was only to be admired from afar.

Looking at him, Melisandre smiled and said, "The Lord of Light is a merciful true god, and I will find 'him' for you."

Seeing her sincerity, Green gave her his friendliest smile of the day: "Then I'll trouble you to bring 'him' to me."

Bring it over?
If she wasn't mistaken, the one who entered the Green Dream was the Green Prophet of the Children of the Forest race. As far as she knew, "he" should be deep underground, keeping company with the roots of the weirwood tree.

"Is there a problem?" Green asked, puzzled, when she suddenly fell silent.

After a pause, Green asked casually, "Do you need my help?"

Green seemed to have already accepted her as one of his own, a fact known throughout the seven kingdoms... He was always lenient with his own people.

however.

Melisandre must seize this opportunity to demonstrate the power she wields.

After all, Green had never truly witnessed the power of the King of Light, so this was indeed a good opportunity.

Standing still, Melisandre's long, flowing hair cascaded down her back, while her scarlet dress billowed without wind.

"You just need to wait for good news, King Green."

.........

.........

The day.

As night fell over Winterfell, a haggard Tyrion reappeared in the king's study.

Watching him clumsily climb onto the chair, Green smiled and pushed the gold glass full of wine towards him, which stopped right in front of his table.

Then, he casually asked, "Did you sleep well, Tyrion?"

"It smells so good, I didn't even have a dream about it."

Tyrion, now seated, grinned stubbornly, then picked up his glass and took a sip of the Summer Red wine he hadn't had time to savor during the day.

"Um……"

He narrowed his eyes slightly: "This seems to be Summer Red, specially provided for Martell members."

Taking another sip of the sweet Summer Red, Tyrion grinned and said, "Your Majesty Green, has the silent Prince Doran actually started to learn how to flatter? I remember they used to talk a lot about perseverance and such. It seems that the blood of the Lannisters has indeed made some contribution to the peace of the Seven Kingdoms."

Green was amused by Tyrion. He paused, then smiled slightly and joked, "To be precise, it's Prince Doran's deep fatherly love, after all, his daughter is now in my hands."

Tyrion's smile froze slightly, and just as he was about to say something, Green's voice came first.

"While you were sleeping soundly, the cacophony crows of Eastwatch brought you new news."

Green tossed a letter onto Tyrion's desk and added, "You should know about this."

Tyrion glanced at the letter warily, but did not pick it up: "My lord, you know my heart is hardened beyond measure; nothing in this world can break my heart anymore."

"Very good, that means you've grown up well. Since you don't want to read the letter, I'll just tell you directly."

Green leaned back in his chair silently for a moment before slowly speaking, "Lansel is dead."

Tyrion paused in his cup-raising motion, then said with an exaggerated expression, "Oh! My poor cousin, he can finally be nestled in the warm embrace of my good sister."

then.

He took a large gulp of wine with a stiff expression, paused, and then suddenly asked, "Is it Stannis?"

Green nodded slightly: "He led hundreds of followers of the Seven Gods in a raid on Stannis's camp. Most of them were killed in battle, and he was captured."

He paused for a moment, then continued, “However, neither you nor James were by his side; he was burned alive.”

Tyrion, his small frame huddled in the chair, looked up at the ceiling, remained silent for a long while, and then murmured, "Ha, does cruel Stannis not know... that Lancel's cousin is a legendary assassin known throughout the Seven Kingdoms?"

(End of this chapter)