Game of Thrones: The Wrath of the Sleeping Dragon

“I come from the smallest finger of the Fingers Peninsula and now serve as Chancellor of the Exchequer in the Imperial Council of His Majesty Robert Baratheon I.”

Although not very old, Petyr Baelish stood in the hall, speaking eloquently without the slightest stage fright, his dark hair streaked with gray.

He placed himself in a very low position, making no attempt to hide the fact that he came from an insignificant little family.

However, he emphasized his current status as King Robert's Treasurer, stating that he was qualified to meet Viserys as an envoy.

"And the two standing next to me..."

Lord Baelish then turned around, intending to introduce the two people standing beside Viserys.

However, at that moment, Viserys, who was sitting on the throne and dressed in light-colored casual clothes, suddenly spoke up.

“I know your name, Lord Baelish.”

"There's no need to belittle yourself."

The handsome, silver-haired youth spoke calmly, his voice echoing in the empty hall. This was the first time he had spoken since meeting Robert's delegation.

"Oh, how did you know...?"

Viserys' sudden slap on the little finger caught the short man off guard. He was slightly taken aback, not expecting Viserys to know his name.

But... I wonder how much the other person really knows about me?

“You once came to Pentos and persuaded the governors of Pentos to turn against me.”

Am I right?

Viserys's voice remained calm, but it made Petyr Baelish break out in a cold sweat, speechless and unsure of what to say.

"This, this... Your Majesty..."

He did indeed make a secret trip to Pentos and Braavos, but this was supposed to be a highly confidential matter. However, he never expected that Viserys would find out about it.

If he had known about this earlier, he would never have taken the position of envoy; wouldn't that have been suicide?

Could there be a mole within the Imperial Council? Who leaked the information?

Then he thought of that damned old man, Jon Arryn, who insisted on sending him on this mission while wearing a "I'm doing this for your own good" expression.

When he got back, Petyr thought bitterly that he would make that stupid woman Lysa pay back the debt tenfold.

Viserys's words caused cold sweat to instantly pour down Littlefinger's forehead.

His mind raced through every suspect, while simultaneously racking his brains for a response. Arguing was pointless; if Viserys had brought it up, he must have solid evidence.

Below, standing behind the chief envoy Baelish, Hendry and Barristan exchanged a glance, and Barristan noticed the tension in the young man's eyes.

Then the captain of the Kingsguard, whose hair was turning gray, took a deep breath and lowered his head. In truth, he was also a little nervous, afraid of being recognized by Viserys.

His Highness has changed a lot since then; back then, he was just a mischievous six or seven-year-old child.

Now, with tens of thousands of soldiers and three dragons at his command, every word and action of his seat on the throne exerts immense psychological pressure on others. With just a few words, Petyr Baelish broke out in a cold sweat.

The atmosphere inside the hall was tense, and the usurper's messenger was speechless.

The female knight standing behind Viserys smiled slightly. Her gaze passed over Petyr and the unnamed nobleman from the Seven Kingdoms, landing on the old knight in bright armor and a white robe.

The usurper's royal guard?

Mia gripped the sword hilt slightly.

However, it was Viserys who came to the rescue of the sweating Baelish.

"No need to be nervous, Lord Baelish."

Viserys spoke, his pale purple eyes fixed on the other person as if he could see right through them.

What Petyr didn't know was that Viserys knew him far better than he knew himself.

This is a master of money and trade, and unmatched in the Seven Kingdoms in scheming and intrigue; he is adept at manipulating power.

"I have no intention of holding you accountable; on the contrary, I want to thank you."

"If you hadn't instigated those fools to attack me, I probably wouldn't have had the chance to take Pentos so easily."

Petyr's wry smile this time was genuine, and he bowed slightly once again.

"Thank you for your leniency, Your Majesty."

Littlefinger's elegant and composed demeanor vanished.

He then had no choice but to bite the bullet and continue the previous topic, introducing the two people behind him.

“Your Majesty, this is Hendry Brecken, the nephew of Lord Genos Brecken, Earl of Stonehide.”

The brown-haired young man standing next to Petyr looked somewhat nervous; it seemed that Viserys's few words had frightened him as well.

"Your Majesty... Your Majesty."

Hendry quickly followed Little Finger's example and bowed deeply, almost kneeling down to kowtow.

"This is Ser Barristan Selmy, Captain of the Kingsguard of His Majesty Robert."

"His Majesty."

The white-haired knight who was called out could no longer keep his head down and pretend to be stupid. He could only take a deep breath and look at Viserys with bright eyes and speak.

He only hoped that Viserys had forgotten him.

To his disappointment, Viserys still remembered him.

"Yes, Sir Barristan, it's been a long time."

Viserys simply nodded to the Kingsguard captain in greeting, but didn't say much, which made him feel somewhat uneasy.

Littlefinger then composed himself and began to formally explain the purpose of the mission.

Robert finally succumbed to the pressure.

The defeats in the two wars made him realize that the White Walkers could not be defeated by human strength, so he thought of the Red Priestess who disappeared after the Battle of Winterfell.

She once said that the Night King was ice, and the dragon was fire, and only the raging dragonfire could defeat the Night King.

The simultaneous resurrection of the Night King and the dragons symbolizes a song of ice and fire, and the only way to defeat the Night King is to seek help from Viserys.

Robert fled from Winterfell all the way to the Twins, and then tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep. After discussing with his advisors and considering it carefully for a long time, he finally gritted his teeth and sent a raven to King's Landing, leaving his adoptive father Jon Arryn to handle the matter.

He himself was too ashamed to write a letter of appeal for help.

Of course, Robert didn't have any good intentions when he used the pretext of asking Viserys for help.

This time, the delegation left King's Landing with great fanfare, as if afraid that no one would be unaware that the Iron Throne had sought help from the Targaryen family, hoping that they would lend a helping hand.

This was a well-known open scheme, but the people of King's Landing naturally didn't think about open or secret schemes; they simply cheered as if they had seen hope.

Of course, this was not Robert's arrangement. Although Robert backed down, he still had his pride.

Jon Arryn, at his age, had a clear understanding of life and knew that shamelessness was useless; only those who laughed last truly won.

"White Walkers, dragons, wildlings... and so on, these things that could easily tear us apart like legends have appeared one after another."

"Let them kill each other; only in this way can the world become a better place."

Chapter 368 Conditions

Petyr Baelish did his utmost to persuade Viserys to send troops to aid Westeros, explaining the horrors of the White Walkers and how they would eventually destroy the world if left unchecked.

Viserys remained calm throughout.

Because he naturally knew how terrifying the White Walkers were, and he knew it even better than they did.

Petyr's combination of coaxing and intimidation naturally failed to frighten Viserys, and the White Walkers would not pose a threat to Essos in the short term.

He was only concerned with what kind of offer Robert would make when he asked for help.

He could almost picture Robert, the fat man with a thick black beard, looking constipated, giving orders and asking him for help.

Then an Unsullied soldier walked in and whispered a few words to Viserys.

Viserys nodded slightly, then looked down at the three people below and spoke.

"I am not the one sitting on the Iron Throne now, Lord Baelish. Why should I sacrifice the lives of my soldiers to save the lives of the enemy?"

Littlefinger, having heard Viserys's words, was about to speak again, continuing his White Walker threat rhetoric.

"Your Majesty, the White Walkers..."

However, Viserys directly shut him down.

Tell Robert—

Viserys stood up and looked at Littlefinger standing below, speaking calmly.

"Take off your crown and kneel down to surrender."

“I might still allow him to remain the Duke of Storm's End.”

"His Majesty..."

Petyr Baelish's face once again showed a helpless, bitter smile upon hearing Viserys's words.

This was clearly an impossible condition. Petyr did come with some negotiating power, but this condition was clearly beyond the scope of what was expected.

However, despite a somewhat helpless wry smile on his face, Little Finger felt a slight sense of relief inside.

The torment is finally over.

Petyr Baelish always thought he was very good at interpersonal communication.

His mouth is his most terrifying weapon. As long as his mouth isn't sewn shut and he's allowed to continue speaking, he can usually achieve his desired goal.

However, when Petyr faced Viserys with his prized eloquence, he felt as if his very being had been exposed.

The other party seemed to know everything about him.

After the audience, he didn't even realize that his back was already soaked with cold sweat.

“I’m serious. I can tell Robert to consider it.”

However, Viserys had already stood up from his throne. Negotiations were not something that could be resolved in a day or two, and besides, Viserys did not intend to send troops now; he was not ready.

Moreover, he now holds the upper hand and can drag things out for as long as he wants.

The current seven kingdoms...