Game of Thrones: I Created the Magic Web

Chapter 22: A Game

February 1st, the afternoon sun was dazzling.

Queen Cersei's large entourage finally appeared outside the Lion Gate of King's Landing.

The gold cloaks guarding the gate diligently dispersed the dense crowd at the entrance, clearing the way for the Queen and her party.

The Queen's massive wheelhouse moved slowly in the middle of the procession.

Ser Jaime rode ahead, clearing the path.

He wore a suit of intricately crafted porcelain-glazed white scale armor, draped with the white cloak unique to the Kingsguard, making the gilded longsword at his waist even more eye-catching.

The "Kingslayer" held his head high, as if returning in triumph, imprinting the sharp, proud smile on his face in the hearts of countless passersby.

Behind the Kingslayer was a carriage tightly covered with black cloth, with Joffrey closely following behind.

Before even entering the Lion Gate, the heavy smell of people and animals flooded his nostrils, allowing Joffrey, who had grown accustomed to the fresh air of the wilderness, to once again experience the "charm" of King's Landing.

He could only endure it, trying to focus his attention on the sights along the way.

As soon as he passed through the Lion Gate, a large expanse of dense, low-lying residences came into view, with many children and teenagers curiously peering out from the windows.

Further into the city, the number of inns, taverns, warehouses, shops, and brothels increased. These places were not very interested in the Queen's beauty; only gold dragons and silver stags could open these doors.

The streets were very crowded. Looking down from the height of his horse, he could only see countless heads and a dazzling array of clothing and faces.

Commoners, knights, merchants, craftsmen, beggars, mercenaries, travelers, prostitutes, gang members...

Midway, the view suddenly widened, and the huge statue of Baelor I, with a compassionate expression, occupied the center of the field of vision. He looked up and finally saw the full view of the sacred and dazzling Great Sept of Baelor.

The center of the Faith of the Seven, guarded by seven crystal towers, a magnificent sept built of pure white marble.

Religion, he thought distractedly.

Are the Seven Gods real beings, or just illusory idols?

Is the power of the Lord of Light, R'hllor, some kind of magic, or another mysterious force?

The convoy then arrived at the central square of the city, and then went straight on, returning to the Red Keep via Aegon's High Hill, entering through the bronze gate.

The Queen's return to the palace naturally meant that servants would be there early to welcome and serve her, making for quite a lively scene.

He snapped back to reality.

Time to go back to being the willful prince.

The Crown Prince dismounted, waiting expectantly for the soldiers to uncover the black cloth on the carriage in front.

Four soldiers worked together to pull it off, and the living creature beneath the black cloth saw the sunlight again.

A chorus of excited shouts erupted from the servants.

"Father in Heaven, what kind of miracle is this!"

"Monster! Monster!!"

Joffrey, with his hands on his hips, laughed triumphantly.

"Scared now, aren't you? This is my mount, mine!"

The servants hurried over to flatter the Crown Prince.

Only after the carriage carrying the giant lion reached the stables did Joffrey leave his "mount" with satisfaction, preparing to return to his chambers.

Somewhat surprised, yet also expecting it, he ran into Littlefinger halfway.

"Your Highness,"

Littlefinger still behaved like the most loyal of subjects.

"First, allow me to congratulate you on possessing such a magnificent mount. It is truly a gift from the gods. However, I also have another piece of good news."

He glanced up at the Crown Prince. "Do you remember the dragon eggs from your name day? They have arrived."

Joffrey looked delighted. "Then what are you waiting for? Take me to see them!"

Littlefinger bowed and accepted the order.

"I must also ask you about a small matter. Your squire, Elyin, was unfortunately cursed by the storm and did not return with the ship, but remained alone in Pentos. What do you think?"

Joffrey frowned slightly. "He's a disgrace to me! Forget about him; he can die over there!"

"Where are my dragon eggs?"

"Your Highness, please don't trouble yourself. They have already been sent to your chambers."

Joffrey rewarded Littlefinger with an approving look.

On the steps of Maegor's Holdfast, Tyrion was sitting in front of Joffrey's chambers, intently reading an ancient book.

Noticing the figure in front of him, Tyrion gently closed the book.

"Good nephew, you were too slow in returning. I couldn't wait any longer. Littlefinger is too much; he wasn't even willing to let me take a peek at what the dragon eggs look like."

Joffrey understood what he meant.

"Hmph, he did well. I am their master, of course I can't just let anyone see them."

The two of them entered Joffrey's chambers together.

An ancient, heavy chest of snow cedar wood was placed on the most conspicuous stone table in the center of the hall.

My dragon eggs!

Joffrey undid the clasp and slowly lifted the lid of the chest. Tyrion stood on tiptoe, wanting to see every detail clearly.

Lying quietly on top of the finest velvet and brocade from the Free Trade City-States were the three large eggs that the two of them had been longing for.

The surface of the dragon eggs' shells was covered with tiny scales, which shimmered with a metallic luster in the sunlight.

One was dark green, with various bronze spots all over it;

One was pale milky white, with golden stripes;

And the last one was black, like a midnight ocean, but with vibrant dark red waves and swirls.

The patterns were as rich as glazed pottery, as round as ceramics, and as translucent as glass.

"So beautiful."

Tyrion exclaimed in fascination.

He thought of the dragon bones under the Red Keep. Black as obsidian, smooth and bright, they seemed to shimmer when illuminated by torches.

It turned out that dragon eggs were even more breathtakingly beautiful.

"Joffrey, black, green, white, which one do you like the least?" That one will be mine.

Joffrey certainly wanted the green one the least.

"Hmm, they all look pretty good. They're more than enough as decorations. You want one, Uncle?"

He held out his hand to Tyrion. "Bring something to trade for it."

Tyrion shook his head.

"Alas, what a stingy little ghost."

He glanced at Hanna, who was standing beside Joffrey, and then took out a roll of parchment from his pocket.

"I've come up with a rather interesting new game. If Your Highness is satisfied, please don't forget to bestow a reward."

Joffrey unrolled the parchment.

The Death of the Hand:

Insufficient investigation time. Littlefinger, Varys, and Pycelle are suspected of involvement.

Intelligence:

475 secret personnel have been recruited. 194 of Varys's men, 289 of Littlefinger's men, and over 60,000 pieces of information about personnel in King's Landing have been identified.

Sleeper Agents:

Stannis's personal cook, Dickon; Renly's free rider, Morry; and 26 soldiers from the King's Landing City Watch are on standby to take action.

"Can this game guarantee that I'll win?"

Tyrion spread his hands. "What game has a 100% chance of winning? I can only say that Your Highness has a greater probability of winning."

Joffrey couldn't help but frown.

The probability of a successful assassination isn't high? Looks like I need to do more preparations.

"Hanna,"

Joffrey also handed Tyrion a piece of paper with instructions. "Help my uncle take this bronze-green dragon egg back, lest he collapse halfway."

Hanna held up the dragon egg, which was the size of her face, and smiled and nodded at Tyrion.

"Lord Tyrion, please give me your guidance in the future."

"Easy to say, easy to say."

Tyrion felt that things were not that simple.

As Tyrion walked to the door, Joffrey seemed to suddenly remember something and slapped his head.

"Oh, right, tomorrow we'll have a good day out in the city."

"After all, we're going to the North the day after tomorrow. That place is freezing cold, poor, and dilapidated. I'm afraid it won't be much fun."

Tyrion turned around smoothly, gave a salute, and then disappeared around the corner of the doorway.

Joffrey returned to his dragon eggs.

There was no one else around at this time.

He gently stroked the two treasures he had just obtained, his eyes revealing excitement and anticipation.

The future Black Dragon Drogon, White Dragon Viserion, and the Green Dragon Rhaegal that he had just sent out—he could see their common feature: three faint patterns.

One represents the Fire Rune, and the other two unknown ones are the great harvest that is close at hand.

Even if I can't hatch the dragon eggs, as long as I have these runes, sooner or later I'll be able to create my own dragon!

On the other side, Tyrion returned to his small nest.

After carefully checking the layout of the room, he read the information Joffrey had given him.

Everything is handed over to Hanna?!

He immediately understood Hanna's greeting just now.

Heh, the dwarf does the work, the woman enjoys it. This is the destiny I can't escape.

As he read further, his expression became more and more serious, and then he burned the parchment to ashes, staring silently at the candlelight.

The first one.

He chose Stannis...