Game of Thrones: The Wrath of the Sleeping Dragon

"nothingness."

Jon Clinton did indeed go to that world, but for him, the feeling was indescribable in simple words, and that's all he could tell Viserys.

"nothingness?"

This was the first time in Viserys' past and present lives that he had spoken with someone who had died and then returned, which naturally piqued his interest.

But when he heard Jon Clinton's words, his brow relaxed slightly, and he secretly began to have some guesses.

"Perhaps there is no such side, Your Majesty."

"I just feel like I've fallen into darkness."

Jon Clinton could not describe his experience after his death; all the illusions and the void seemed to remain unspoken.

Viserys fell silent after hearing this. He knew that Jon had no reason to deceive him on this matter, so he saw no need to ask any further questions.

"So... what should I do next?"

"Miracis?"

Then, under the dim campfire, the silver-haired youth sitting in the center of the Red Keep's cellar slightly turned his pale purple eyes and looked at the stone statue placed on the ground beside him, and asked a question.

It was only then that Jon Clinton realized there was a third person in the cellar. A faceless stone statue was silently watching him, which once again gave him a chill. He had never believed in these supernatural tales before, but it was only after his death that he opened his eyes to them.

Of the three present, he was the weakest. Even Jon Snow, when first awakened by Viserys and witnessing such immense spiritual power, almost thought he was encountering the Seven Gods themselves...

Thinking of this, Jon shook his head with a self-deprecating smile.

Having served as Prime Minister for so many years, he thought he knew Viserys best, but now he realized that His Majesty was far more mysterious and unpredictable than he had imagined.

However, at this moment, Viserys suddenly spoke up and asked a question. There was a moment of silence from the other statue, followed by a woman's voice responding.

"I don't know what happens next."

You don't know either?

"Then why didn't you say so sooner?"

Viserys frowned once again upon hearing this.

"Because gathering souls is not Miracis's divine duty, have you forgotten her divine name?"

Miracis is a sea god in the Valyrian mythology, whose full name is the Lord of the Raging Waves, and who rules over the ocean and storms.

Therefore, according to Dr. Marvin, a scholar who has extensive knowledge of Valyrian history, sailors from Valyrian Freehold used to offer sacrifices to Mirasis before setting sail, praying for calm seas.

"Belarion is the god of death; he is responsible for gathering all the souls of the dead."

"Whether it is a wrongful death, an old age, an illness, or a war, all souls are under his control."

"He is the end of all life in Valyria."

Miracis spoke calmly, explaining the divine duties of the God of Death.

However, Viserys felt an increasing sense of familiarity as he listened to Mirasis's words.

Doesn't his ability to absorb souls overlap with Bellerion's divine role?

"Where did Valyria's god of death go afterward?"

The silver-haired youth then asked in a slightly urgent voice, but no answer came from the statue.

"Feel sorry."

Viserys took a deep breath and waved his hand, knowing he had been a little too hasty.

Because Miracis once said that she didn't know exactly what happened back then, how the powerful Valyrian gods were wiped out by the enemy in one fell swoop.

She was merely an insignificant divine thought that Miracis had stored within the statue.

"You need to calm down."

However, Mirasis then slowly spoke.

“I know you must be hiding a secret, but you’ve progressed too fast. You need to stop for a while and calmly examine your past.”

Miracis didn't know what secrets Viserys was hiding, but she knew that a mortal must have had some extraordinary opportunities to reach this point. Her kind reminder instantly calmed Viserys down.

"Since he cannot be brought back to life, what should be done with Jon's soul?"

"What I know is... there are two ways."

Mirasis saw that Viserys had calmed down and then spoke.

"The first option is to become a wandering, lonely ghost like me, relying on the fire of faith within you as nourishment to survive."

"He has no way to control his dead body, nor can he be too far away from you."

"But spirits also have their advantages. They can still give you wise advice, and they can also help you uncover secrets or possess other living people."

Ghost consultant?

Guardian spirit?

Upon hearing Mirasis's first method, Viserys couldn't help but have this thought flash through his mind.

Because this is indeed very much like a guardian spirit, and it has no lifespan limit. As long as it can absorb enough soul nourishment, it can live forever like Miracis. Of course, the premise for doing so is that Viserys' divine fire burns forever.

"What about the second method?"

Viserys pondered for a moment, remaining noncommittal, before finally asking the question.

"The second method is rebirth."

"Find a pregnant woman who has not yet given birth, and send his soul into her body."

"The process of a newborn growing in its mother's womb is the birth of life. The baby in the mother's womb has not yet formed its own soul, but its soul can take its place."

"Can't they be reincarnated?"

Neither of these two solutions seemed to be a perfect solution. Viserys heard about Mirasis's second method and then turned to look at Jon's soul in his palm.

Jon's wife happens to be pregnant with his child, so he could choose to live another life this way.

"Reincarnation?"

Mirasis was slightly taken aback upon hearing this, not understanding Viserys's words, but after a moment's thought, he roughly grasped the meaning from the literal interpretation.

There is no reincarnation.

“Every newborn is a brand new soul, while the soul of every dead person will eventually dissipate.”

Is that so?

Viserys's face showed a thoughtful expression.

Mirasis is not omniscient; she only knows a part of the truth, and he is aware of that.

If all souls dissipate, it cannot explain why the God of Cold resurrected the kings of the North throughout history. Logically, some of their souls have spanned thousands of years and should have been annihilated long ago.

But Viserys didn't ask directly. Instead, he turned his gaze back to the soul of Jon Clinton in his palm and decided to leave the choice to himself.

Is it better to become a wandering ghost or to be reborn?

Chapter 685 Funeral

The death of the King's Hand in Dorne is certainly no small matter.

However, the Dorne rebellion has been quelled, and all the ringleaders involved have received their due punishment, which can be considered a relief for the deceased and some comfort for their families and friends.

A few days later, a light drizzle began.

The streets of King's Landing were washed clean by the rain, and two groups of people stood in the rain with sorrowful faces in front of the gates of the Red Keep, with a huge and magnificent coffin placed between them.

Lying among them is the body of former Prime Minister Jon Clinton, whose widow, Mrs. Beth of the Blakeen family, is weeping under an umbrella, heavily pregnant.

After Viserys ascended to the throne as Emperor of Valyria, Arianne, who became Empress of the Empire, also wore a solemn long dress and exuded a dignified and noble air as she stood under an umbrella.

She also wore the Targaryen coat of arms on her chest, because according to local custom, marrying into another family meant becoming a member of that family.

Arianne can be called Arianne Targaryen, or Arianne Nameros Martell.

At that moment, the elegant empress was quietly comforting the girl beside her.

Mrs. Beth Clinton looked very young, with a pregnant belly, and it seemed that she had just come of age when she married Prime Minister Jon Clinton under the arrangement of her uncle.

Actually, it was a very good engagement. Beth wasn't upset that Jon was twice her age, because Jon Clinton was only in his thirties, in his prime, not an old man who couldn't even be capable.

Moreover, Jon Snow held a high position of power as Hand of the King and Lord Governor of Stormlands. In other words, if the girl's uncle hadn't been Geoffrey Brecken, the Lord Secretary of the Sea and Lord Governor of the Riverlands, Jon Snow might not have even been interested in her.

Jon Snow is conservative and traditional. He doesn't need a beautiful wife; he just needs a woman of similar social standing who can carry on his family line. Beth is the perfect candidate.

As Queen, Arianne took on her responsibilities and held the girl's hand, whispering words of comfort.

If it were someone else offering advice, it might not be very effective, but conversations between women can undoubtedly open their hearts very quickly.

On the other side, Viserys was also dressed solemnly, the metal emblem on his left breast shimmering slightly in the rain.

He was standing without an umbrella beside Jon Clinton's coffin, with Oberon, Varys, and others beside him.

His Majesty the Emperor was caught in the rain without an umbrella. Apart from His Majesty the Empress and the Prime Minister's wife and other female relatives, no one else dared to use an umbrella. They all bowed their heads, whether sincerely or not, to express their condolences.

Before Jon Clinton's coffin stood the Archbishop of St. Baelor's Cathedral and Dean of King's Landing Theological Seminary. He was obese, wearing a crystal crown, and had one hand on the coffin lid. He was muttering something unintelligible and breathing heavily.

After the fat Archbishop finished his eulogy, Jon Clinton's coffin was lifted by several Unsullied soldiers and placed on the carriage.

"Ready to go!"

"Ready to go!"

With a few shouts, the motorcade escorting Jon Clinton's coffin officially drove out of the Red Keep.

Viserys and other princes and ministers did not choose to walk, but instead rode horses and sedan chairs to follow the procession.

"I never imagined Jon would die in Dorne."

Among the empire's princes and ministers, those skilled in archery and horsemanship chose to ride horses, while those who were obese or too weak to get wet in the rain, such as the finance minister Illyrio, quickly climbed into sedan chairs.

At this moment, Oberyn was still wearing his sand-yellow battle robes, riding his black warhorse, urging his horse to catch up with Viserys, and then spoke.

Several days have passed since Viserys returned from Dorne, but he has been very busy these past few days, locking himself in the crypts of the Red Keep. No one knows what he is doing, and Oberyn has not spoken to him.

"Ah."

"I didn't expect that either."