The Mountain of Ice and Fire

Littlefinger looked at the witch with fear in his heart.

The witch seemed very mysterious. She saw through Littlefinger's secrets, making him feel that she was too terrifying.

The witch sat down at the table opposite Littlefinger, and suddenly waved her hand. Littlefinger felt a pain in his chest. Before he could react, the witch's black spike had already stabbed him. The black spike was stained with Littlefinger's blood. The witch licked the spike with her tongue, and her long hair parted without wind, revealing an old face covered with age spots. Her eyes were even more terrifying, two white eyeballs staring at Littlefinger.

Littlefinger was so frightened that he jumped up with a 'ah' sound.

Then, the witch's long hair closed automatically, blocking her face. The old age spots and white eyeballs were no longer visible, as if the scene just now was just Littlefinger's own illusion.

"Ser Gregor, Lord Petyr Baelish is not to be trusted," the witch said slowly after tasting Littlefinger's blood.

Littlefinger's face turned pale again.

He was indeed thinking about how to escape, planning new opportunities for counterattack and survival. As long as there was a chance, he would not hesitate to betray the Mountain and put him to death. There was no doubt about this.

The witch tasted a little of his blood and bluntly said that he was 'not to be trusted,' which made Littlefinger feel terrified!

Because the Mountain was truly a ruthless killer! His notoriety was too great!

Littlefinger had only heard many dark rumors about wizards in the past. He had also heard a little about the famous prophecies of the witches of the Westerlands. He never expected that the witches of the Westerlands could see through people's minds so mysteriously and accurately through blood, and see through the hidden conspiracies behind them. This was really incredible and unbelievable!

Littlefinger subconsciously looked at the Mountain, whose face was full of anger. He felt despair like a tide rushing towards him, instantly submerging him completely. He also felt as if his heart was being grasped by an invisible hand, squeezed to the extreme. As long as it was squeezed a little harder, his heart would be burst with a 'pop'.

"Grandmother, I was worried that Littlefinger would not be loyal, so I asked him to swear allegiance to me in front of the Seven Gods first," the Mountain said, his voice full of anger.

"Even after he swears allegiance to you in front of the Seven Gods, he is still not to be trusted," the witch said lightly. She gently put down the black spike and the glass bottle, and parted the long hair that was blocking her face with both hands. A young face painted with seven-pointed star patterns in white paint appeared in front of Littlefinger.

Littlefinger was dumbfounded!

The face that was so old that it couldn't be older had been replaced by a completely young and unfamiliar face. The eyes were also bright and piercing, but the teeth were shiny black, revealing endless weirdness.

"Grandmother, since Littlefinger is not to be trusted, what should I do? Should I just tell Lord Tywin the truth and then kill him?" The Mountain's tone was full of murderous intent.

Littlefinger felt a chill all over his body. He wanted to run away, to jump up and rush out the door, but he found that his body couldn't move!

In front of the Mountain, even ten Littlefingers couldn't escape!

"Ser Gregor, you can only force Lord Petyr Baelish to swear allegiance on the surface, but you can't really restrain him. Once he leaves here, you will have no way to deal with him."

"Who has a way? Is there no way even with the oath to the Seven Gods?"

"Yes, there is no way even with the Seven Gods. Assuming you don't want to kill him, then only one person can force Lord Baelish to be loyal to you."

"Who can do it?"

"Himself!"

The Mountain looked stunned: "Grandmother, did I hear wrong?"

"Ser Gregor, Lord Baelish is ten times smarter and more resourceful than you. He will definitely be able to think of a perfect plan that can both restrain him and reassure you."

The Mountain immediately looked at Littlefinger: "Littlefinger, Lord Pimple, quickly think of a good way to reassure me. If you can't think of one, I'll cut off one of your hands first and then poke out one of your eyes."

Littlefinger trembled: "Ser Gregor, I'm thinking."

The Mountain was already impatient and shouted: "Damn it, it's too troublesome to subdue you, you dog thing." With a whoosh, he drew a short knife from his left hand, and with his right hand, he gently lifted Littlefinger across the table. With a push of his right hand, he pressed Littlefinger against the wall, and then raised the short knife in his left hand and stabbed it towards Littlefinger's right eye.

"I have an idea!" Littlefinger shouted in horror, "Ser Gregor, I have an idea, I have an idea!"

The Mountain's left-hand short knife swooshed and stabbed into the wall next to Littlefinger's right ear. The cold air brought by the short knife made the right side of Littlefinger's neck feel cold.

The Mountain glared at Littlefinger. His and the witch's singing and harmony, coercion and inducement, completely destroyed Littlefinger's confidence.

His grandmother was not only a witch, but also a master of exquisite performance.

"Littlefinger, Lord Pimple, what good idea did you come up with? Speak!" The Mountain said lightly.

"Ser Gregor, I will write down the truth about my instigating Lysa Tully to murder Prime Minister Jon Arryn, and write down my conspiracy to persuade Lysa Tully to blame the Lannisters for Prime Minister Jon Arryn's death. I will personally sign and admit the statement of guilt. This statement of guilt will be handed over to you, my lord. If I am ever disloyal to you, my lord, as long as you make this statement of guilt public, no matter where I am or what status I have, I will be ruined and die without a burial place," Littlefinger said very quickly.

The Mountain's eyes looked at the witch!

The witch nodded.

The Mountain pulled out the knife from the wall with a whoosh: "This statement of guilt cannot be only one copy, it must be written ten copies."

"I'll write it!" Littlefinger said quickly. He secretly breathed a sigh of relief, finally turning back from the edge of life and death. His physical strength was completely overdrawn without him realizing it, and he was relying entirely on a breath of survival to support himself. The pressure from the Seven Kingdoms' chief villain, the Mountain, was overwhelming.

Facing the Mountain, who killed without blinking an eye, he would write a hundred copies, let alone ten!

The Mountain sheathed the short knife, waved his right hand, and threw Littlefinger on the ground with a bang: "My grandmother wants your blood first."

"Yes!" Littlefinger got up, his body aching, his tone obedient.

"Extend your hand, Lord Baelish," the witch said.

Littlefinger extended his right hand.

The witch picked up the black spike in front of her and stabbed it into Littlefinger's wrist. Blood gushed out and flowed down his wrist with a whoosh.

"Use a glass bottle to catch it, half a bottle is enough," the witch said.

"Yes!" Littlefinger took the glass bottle with his left hand and caught his blood.

When half a bottle of blood was collected, the blood on his wrist automatically stopped flowing.

Littlefinger handed the half bottle of blood to the witch, feeling suspicious and uncertain in his heart. The blood automatically stopped flowing, as if someone had pressed their hand on the wound. This kind of dark magic was Littlefinger's first experience.

The witch took out a seven-god statue the size of a finger from the drawer of the table and said, "Lord Baelish, kneel down and swear allegiance to Ser Gregor in front of the Seven Gods."

"Yes!" Littlefinger was honest, obedient, and did as he was told.

Under the witch's guidance, Littlefinger knelt down and worshiped the Seven Gods, and then, in front of the Seven Gods, in the name of the Baelish family's honor and the Seven Gods, swore allegiance to Gregor Clegane.

After the oath was completed, the Mountain threw the pen and paper in front of Littlefinger. Littlefinger picked up the pen, spread out the paper, and wrote ten copies of the statement of guilt with a sincere expression and a serious attitude.