Game of Thrones: The Strongest Dragon Mother

Chapter 432 Well, I'm Finally Waiting For You

Dr. Perestan comforted the commander-in-chief again: "Actually, sir, you don't have to worry about the lack of bachelors. With the temper of the Dragon Queen, it's no wonder that you can easily let go of the Academy City.

Within half a year, a large number of doctors and bachelors will be exiled to the Great Wall.If you have the heart, my lord, you can even build a primary school town in Castle Black, and I will be the manager, hahaha"

At the end, the red-nosed old doctor laughed out loud with pride.

Jon looked at the red-nosed old doctor strangely for a while, his lips twitched, but he didn't say anything.

"Then you continue to ask the lord for help, tell them that the night is coming, and come to help the Great Wall as soon as possible."

Jon emphasized in a complicated tone: "We need knights. There are too many wildlings on loan. We need honorable and capable knights to manage them."

The old doctor shook his head and cursed: "The nobles have no honor, they are all asking about the 50 gold dragons. They said that if the Great Wall immediately fulfills its promise, a night watchman costs 50 gold dragons, and you can send as many night watchmen as you want.

Damn it, they took the honorable Night's Watch for slavers.If it is really a slave trade, a slave warrior is not worth 50 silver stags. "

"Fifty golden dragons are the rewards given by the Dragon Queen to the night watchmen after the long night, and the nobles are not entitled to possess them." Jon frowned.

The old man spread his hands and said helplessly: "I said the same thing, and then they called me a fake Perestan.

Speaking of this, I have to defend the city, those doctors and I violated the guest rights, we suck.

But at any time, the integrity of bachelors is far higher than that of nobles.

The reason why they are bad now is all because the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms have bad manners and are ten times worse than us, which has lowered the lower limit of bachelors. "

Jon glared at the sophistical red-nosed old doctor, and said, "The nobles will change their minds when Sam takes the White Walkers to the south for a tour. I hope the Academy will be as you said, and the bottom line is higher than the knights."

Leaving the crow's nest, Jon saw Melisandre in the courtyard again.

She seemed to have foreseen that he was going to find her, and was waiting there.

Jon moved slowly, and walked over without hesitation, asking: "Can you ensure that the White Walker loses the ability to resurrect the dead without melting it?"

"Perhaps." The red-robed woman said.

"Maybe?" Jon was not satisfied with the answer.

"I've never encountered a different ghost before, and the little strange ghost is also under study, but you want to send it away again." The red-robed woman also complained a little in her tone.

"Double insurance. If you can't seal the magic of the big white ghost to raise the dead, you can only kill it by Sam, and then show the little white ghost to the school city and the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms.

The little ghost does not know magic, and is far less shocking than the big ghost, so it can only be used as a spare tire. ' Jon explained.

"I will leave a seal on them and give Samwell a ruby. If the seal fails and the White Walkers recover their magic power halfway, the ruby ​​will flash red as a reminder," Melisandre said.

"Yes." Jon breathed a sigh of relief, then turned and walked towards the command tower.

Melisandre took a few steps closer to Jon, took his arm, and said before he broke away, "Jon, as a novice shadowbinder, don't refuse my friendship."

Through the wool and leather jacket, Jon could feel the amazing heat from her soft body.

She pulled up his big rough hand and pressed it to his heart, "Well, do you feel it? The magic power of the sea."

Jon's hands were shaking.

"My body is made entirely of flames and shadows, and I no longer need food, water, or air long ago. One day, when I complete the task R'hllor gave me, I will ascend to his kingdom, you understand this Does it mean something?"

"The prince who has passed away, the child who is not born, I want to communicate, and I want to communicate everywhere; the years drift, the seasons change, I want to cruise, and reach the end. This kind of state, Jon, do you understand?"

The red-robed woman blew softly into Jon's ear, "I am the God of Shadowbinder!"

Jon pursed his lips, and said lightly: "I'm not a shadowbinder, I specialize in the fire witchcraft taught to me by His Majesty Daenerys."

"It's a pity that she didn't get the complete inheritance of the great wizard, why don't you let me guide you to master the mystery of the holy fire." Melisandre smiled lightly.

"I'm not interested in the holy fire. As a night watchman, the mystery of the holy fire is useless to me." Jon said.

"Hehe, why is it useless?" Melisandre said with a chuckle, "The holy fire can reveal the truth, and with the holy fire, you can see through rocks and land, and see through the darkest secrets in people's souls.

Jon, I saw you in the holy fire, you, can't escape. "

"I'm right on the Great Wall, and I won't run away. No matter what the future holds, I'm not afraid! You can't scare me." Jon withdrew his right hand and broke free from the red-robed woman's arms.

The red-robed girl smiled and said, "Lord Xue Nuo, are you nervous?"

Jon didn't want to admit this, and changed the subject: "Why did you come to the Great Wall, come here from Asshai, and for what?"

The red-robed girl raised her head, and the gemstone under her neck gleamed red, and said like a chant: "A long time ago, I dreamed of the Great Wall, and I know it far better than you night watchmen.

There is a majestic magic buried under it, which condenses the knowledge and wisdom of the ancestors, and it is the door to the world.

What happens here will affect the whole world and will determine the direction of the next era.

The Great Wall is where you should come, where the Dragon Queen should come, and where I should come. "

"I do not know what you're talking about."

Jon ignored her, took a big step, and walked to the top of the tower.

"You will understand." Melisandre murmured softly, looking at his back.

Through haunted forests, and through ice fields of thin ironwood, in the far north, in the land of eternal winter, there is a tall hill covered with red palm-leaved weirwoods.

Thick weirwood, finger-thick weirwood, bowl-thick weirwood, countless white trunks squeezed together, like a burial place for gods.

Under the mountain bag.

is a world.

The underground world belonging to the children of the forest.

Leaving the Great Wall under Sam's guidance, Bran sat on the back of Lengshou's huge elk and traveled tens or hundreds of miles a day, heading north for nearly a month.

Sunrise and sunset, across the mountains, rivers and forests, finally came to the foot of the hill like the tomb of the old god.

Countless ghouls surrounded the mountain, like a million troops besieging a city.

The ghouls had been buried under snow when Bran first arrived—he didn't even know how long they'd been around here.

Cold Hand was right, the cave was covered with magic, and ghouls couldn't get in, and neither could Cold Hand himself.

Only living people with warm bodies can enter.

Bran saw a lot of squirrel people, and in a daze, he stepped into Old Nan's story.

The Children of the Forest were as tall as a child, ten years old, with large, clear eyes of all colors, narrow and narrow like a cat's eyes, wearing a cloak woven of leaves, and skin like a doe, covered with spots.

"A lot of squirrelmen! Dozens, hundreds of them." Bran cheered.

"Many? No, we only have these clansmen left." The Squirrel Man had a clear girl-like voice, but his tone was very sad.

"The Squirrel Man is like a child," Meera Reed said.

"The old men called us children, and the giants called us squirrels, but we are neither squirrels nor children. The name of the children of the forest means 'people who sing the praises of the earth' in the original language. Singing in its own language for millions of years," said the singer.

Meera said, "But you speak the Common Tongue."

"It's for him. He can't understand me when I speak the original language." The singer pointed at Brand.

"I was born in the time of dragons, and I walked the world for 200 years, watching, listening and learning, and I can speak Valyrian!

I have seen King Renrui, I have witnessed the blood dragon dancing wildly, and the demon dragon withered.

I wanted to continue traveling, but my legs were sore and I was exhausted from everything in the world, so I turned around and went home. "The singer's tone is vicissitudes, and his eyes are deep.

"My God, 200 years!?" Meera exclaimed with Bran.

The singer said with a smile: "Maybe, I can still tell your stories, Bran's story, and Dragon Queen's story to the guests I meet in the next 200 years."

"Who is the Dragon Queen?" Bran wondered.

"After you become the Three-Eyed Raven, you can see for yourself. Her story has been engraved on the leaves, under the roots, forever and ever." The singer sighed.

"Do you have a name?" Bran asked.

The singer of "ni`bu`dong_" opened his mouth and made a strange pronunciation.

"Expressing in the source language, there is only one symbol." She said.

"What if it is changed to the common language?" Bran continued to ask.

"It's very long, with thousands of words, you can call me 'Leaf'." The singer said.

The singer led the way with a torch, over a weirwood tree root as thick as a python, over several underground rivers, and over a narrow bridge that spanned the two ends of the canyon.

Eventually, Bran, Hodor, and the Reeds follow the singer to a cave full of weirwood roots.

In the very center of the cavern, a throne of weirwood is woven into a king of bones.

His body was emaciated, his black clothes were tattered and rotten, and tree roots wrapped around his torso like a wooden python. One of them passed through his pants, penetrated into his dry thigh, and protruded from his shoulder.

Dots of dark red leaves grew on his skull, and countless gray mushrooms occupied his forehead.

What little skin remained stretched across his face, tight and hard as white leather.Even the skin is cracking, with brown or yellow bones poking out of it here and there.

He had one eye, red as a pool of blood, and the other had a thin white root running down his cheek from the empty socket and into his neck.

This is one that grows with weirwood.

"Three-eyed crow?" Bran asked uncertainly.

"Yes, the Three-Eyed Raven, Brynden River, Duke Bloodraven, and Lord Commander of the Night Watch are all me!"

There was brilliance in the red eyes of the dead body: "Bran, you are finally here. I have observed you for a long time and witnessed your birth with a thousand and one eyes. I saw you take the first step in life and tell the first step in life. A word, into the first dream of life, I saw you fall from the tower with my own eyes."

Bran looked at his leg and said expectantly, "I broke my leg, can you fix it?"

"I can't," Brynden said.

Tears welled up in Bran's eyes, and he wept weakly: "But you have repeatedly entered my dreams and asked me to come to you, and I have worked so hard to come here to fix my legs."

"Be strong, kid, your mission here is not to heal your legs, but to inherit my position and become the Three-Eyed Raven!" Brynden said.

"Inherit your seat?"

Looking at Brynden, whose body and tree roots grew together, and whose head grew mushrooms, 9-year-old Bran flinched and cried harder.

(End of this chapter)