Game of Thrones: The Wrath of the Sleeping Dragon

Viserys's mansion is under strict surveillance, and now inns and taverns throughout Pentos are being raided.

No one expected that Viserys had laid his trump card in the Temple of the Red God.

"The city is in chaos."

Ramsay Snow raised his head slightly from under his hood, revealing a gloomy face.

At the same time, his eyes made no attempt to conceal his desire as he looked the priestess of Rahlo up and down.

Melisandre, kneeling before the campfire, heard Ramsay Bolton's words and remained silent for a long time, seemingly deep in thought, her beautiful eyes fixed on the flickering flames before her.

There was a slight tremor in her voice just as Rams's outstretched hand was about to touch her cheek.

"Rams Snow".

Melisandre spoke abruptly.

In the vast, empty hall, the priestess's voice sounded ethereal, even echoing.

Rams's hand froze in mid-air.

A strong premonition rose within him: what if he really did touch Melisandre's cheek...

Something terrible is going to happen.

The woman knelt before the campfire with her back to him, and even the fragrance emanating from her body could be smelled into his nostrils.

However, Rams felt a chill run through his entire body, from the top of his head to his toes.

"you..."

A hint of surprise flashed across Little Rascal's eyes, and he involuntarily took two steps back, but still stubbornly argued.

"Hmph, aren't the sacrifices in the temple just for..."

The temple of Rahlo takes in many abandoned orphans, who grow up to become monks or temple prostitutes.

Because of a rule passed down from an unknown high priest of the Red Temple, people would perceive the gods when they reached orgasm during intercourse, which is why the profession of temple prostitutes came into being in the temple.

However, many high-ranking members of the Rahlo followers are well aware that these are merely means for them to win over followers and expand the religion.

However, for this reason, the term 'sacrifice' has often been stigmatized on the continent of Essos.

That's exactly what Rams meant at that moment.

He didn't actually dare to have any other bad intentions, but he couldn't control himself. He thought that he and Melisandre were both Viserys's dogs, and what difference was there between dogs?

Melisandre remained calm and was not angered by Ramsay's clearly insulting words.

His eyes remained calm and still, and then he spoke in a calm voice.

"I saw your tragic end in the flames."

"Rams."

"If you can't control your lower body and cause public resentment, the prophecy will come true."

Melisandre's voice was calm, and her red eyes, still burning with fire, did not turn around. However, her words sent a chill down Rams's spine.

He didn't know if Melisandre had truly seen a prophecy about herself in the flames, or if the woman was simply trying to scare him.

However, considering his earlier premonition of danger, Rams decided to be more cautious from now on, lest his words come true.

Then the young man with the gloomy face straightened up, coughed lightly, and spoke.

"The city is already in chaos, and it's still in the planning stage."

"Should we inform His Majesty about this so that he can prepare accordingly?"

Melisandre sat quietly in front of the campfire, squinted slightly, pondered for a moment, and nodded.

"can."

Have you completed all the tasks assigned to you by the True King?

Upon hearing Melisandre's words, Rams's clean face immediately broke into a confident smile, revealing his sharp white teeth.

"of course."

...

The Prince's Palace atop the highest hill in the city of Pentos.

Viserys sat at the top of the rotunda steps, next to Prince Pentos, with Governor Illyrio Mopatis to his left.

The banquet was now halfway through, with several rounds of drinks and dishes served. Apart from a minor conflict at the beginning, everything had gone smoothly.

However, undercurrents were still quietly surging, and Viserys noticed that many governors were whispering and pointing at him.

Meanwhile, the governors' servants kept coming in and out, reporting news of unknown origin.

The numerous footsteps heard in the corridors outside the palace were almost completely drowned out by the sounds of the performance; Viserys might not have noticed them if he hadn't possessed extraordinary perception.

Now, a clown is performing below the steps; the striptease that just took place has come to an end.

He was a short dwarf with comical tattoos on his face. At that moment, the clown was telling jokes in an exaggerated and sharp tone that were not very funny, and even a bit vulgar.

Viserys was getting sleepy, but the older governors listened with great interest.

Viserys wore a black velvet robe lined with scale armor, and a twilight pendant was worn at his waist.

He propped his cheek with one hand and looked down at the clown, whose tattoos were said to be a custom in Valantis.

The Valantis liked to tattoo the faces of their slaves so they could easily distinguish between slaves and free citizens and treat them differently.

Viserys didn't have many thoughts about such a pitiful dwarf; he had no power to change the world now, so he didn't feel any burden in his heart.

The only person he could think of was the dwarf known as 'Little Imp' Tyrion Lannister.

The other person was a few years older than him, probably around seventeen or eighteen years old now, while Tyrion, though short in stature, possessed astonishing intelligence.

If he could, Viserys would really like to meet Tyrion and have a chat with him.

Unfortunately, Targaryens and Lannisters are mortal enemies, and the two are destined to be adversaries.

At least that's how it seems right now.

Then.

The comical clown below seems to be performing some kind of interactive show.

"Tsk tsk, I'll choose one from among you gentlemen."

The dwarf's gaze then shifted, finally settling on Viserys, and he let out a piercing cry, seemingly having chosen Viserys as his target.

The young king, supporting his cheek with one hand, was still somewhat taken aback, not expecting that this clown would come looking for him.

However, just as the clown approached him, a small piece of paper silently fell from his sleeve and landed at Viserys' feet.

"Ok?"

Viserys's eyes narrowed slightly.

Then he turned his head sharply to the left and right. What was this strong sense of familiarity?

Viserys then quietly stepped on the small piece of paper, unnoticed by anyone else.

Only after the clown finished his game and left did he bend down and pick it up.

The silver-haired boy unfolded the paper ball, glanced at it a few times, and then his eyebrows lifted slightly.

"Ok?"

On the other side.

Ta-da...

The clown's performance is not over yet.

Suddenly a soldier rushed in from outside and leaned down to whisper a few words in the ear of a governor.

The governor's expression immediately changed.

"what?"

Chapter 207 The True Colors Are Revealed

Thirty years ago, that person defected and left Pentos.

Filled with resentment towards the governor and his family, he left his homeland for the controversial land, and it is said that he traveled to several mercenary groups.

At that time, the governors of Pentos did not take him seriously either.

After all, he hadn't accepted the appointment yet; he had fled on the eve of it.

So the governors of Pentos at the time temporarily chose another poor fellow to replace him.

The governors believed he might die in some obscure corner and never return to his hometown.

Unexpectedly, the prince who escaped later established his own mercenary group and won many battles, gradually expanding his power and becoming one of the most influential forces in the disputed lands, with two thousand warriors under his command.

It was only at this point that the governors of Pentos took notice of this man again.

However, very few of the governors who were in power thirty years ago remain; most have turned to dust.

The few who are still alive have long since retired and are now lying in their hospital beds, barely clinging to life.

Although the new generation of governors had heard of the name of the defector prince, they did not take him too seriously.

In their eyes, this person was just a tiny insect that had managed to escape by sheer luck.

Although he repeatedly said that he would return to his hometown one day, thirty years have passed and he has not even dared to step into the gates of Pentos.

but...

All of this changed this evening.

The governors of Pentos had ruled the city for many years, and their business families had long been rooted in the land.

Although the infighting among the governors consumed most of their energy and exposed many weaknesses, their power was still deeply entrenched, and they had received secret intelligence about the Wind Blowing Group through some channel before the incident.

The prince who escaped back then, along with two thousand Wind Blowing Legion warriors, had long since broken up into smaller groups and secretly infiltrated the city.

It's like a powder keg buried under our feet, ready to explode at any moment with just a spark.

However, these governors were sitting on a powder keg, and it wasn't until two or three days later that they realized the Wind Blowers had infiltrated their ranks.