...Jaime was very flustered.
But no matter how flustered he was, he wasn't as flustered as the half-naked Cersei in the attic.
And no matter how flustered Cersei was, she wasn't as flustered as Bran, who was hanging in mid-air.
Looking at the Stark boy in front of him, whom he had just grabbed after the boy almost fell, Jaime's emerald eyes were filled with great confusion.
fuck!
Whose kid is so bold, climbing to such a high place for no reason?
"He saw us, he saw us!"
Cersei shouted at the stunned and motionless Jaime while hurriedly putting on her clothes.
The implication was for Jaime to quickly kill him to keep him quiet.
Turning to look at his lover, Jaime felt as if he didn't recognize her anymore.
Throughout his life, he had always upheld the spirit of chivalry, considering the protection of the weak as one of his duties.
Even though he had personally killed the king he swore fealty to, that was to protect everyone in King's Landing; his conscience was clear.
To make Jaime lay a hand on an unarmed child—he couldn't do it.
But when he saw Cersei casting a look for help at him, Jaime hesitated again.
If Bran were to tell others about their affair, not only would Cersei lose her position as queen, but their three children would likely not escape death either.
The expression on his face kept changing, as if he were struggling in agony.
Just as he was incredibly conflicted, a breeze blew, Jaime's emerald eyes rolled up slightly, and his right hand involuntarily lashed out towards Bran.
At this critical moment, a surge of deep blue energy hidden within Jaime's body welled up like an instinctive reaction, constantly fighting with another invisible energy for control of the body... He threw Syrio out with one move, the massive force knocking him unconscious on the ground.
Afterward, Arthas rejected Lancel's suggestion to call a Maester for him, and without caring whether Syrio on the ground was dead or alive, he walked straight back to his office, dripping with blood.
Closing the door and sitting in his chair, Arthas's long hair suddenly turned gray-white, with only a few strands of vibrant gold remaining.
A wisp of pure deep blue energy rose in his eyes, and with the Evil Aura fully active, his injuries began to heal at a speed visible to the naked eye.
"You coward hiding in the shadows, get out!"
A majestic whisper sounded from the lich king's mouth; within the Magic Seed he had hidden in Jaime's body, he felt an ancient aura invading.
But no matter how he called out, the other party gave no response. After searching for a long time without result, Arthas finally grew somewhat angry.
A nostalgic smile curled at the corners of his mouth; this feeling reminded him of the years he spent fighting Ner'zhul for control of his body... that was a very, very long time ago.
"Very well, since you're unwilling to show yourself, then don't blame me for being impolite!"
When it comes to fighting for control over a body, who in the entire continent of Westeros could be stronger than the lich king?
...Far away in Winterfell, thousands of miles away.
Bran stared blankly at the Lannister Kingsguard in front of him, who seemed to be in an endless struggle; his legs felt weak from fear, and he couldn't make any move at all.
Suddenly, a terrifying chill erupted from Jaime, his long golden hair began to turn white, and his entire features seemed to be instantly frozen by the extreme cold.
Even the surrounding air temperature dropped a few degrees, and the ground beneath his feet began to frost over.
"Boom~"
Immediately after, an invisible energy flew out of his mouth, heading quickly into the distance as if fleeing for its life.
"Evil God from a Foreign Land!"
"You should not be here!"
Leaving behind a harsh threat like an evil villain, the invisible energy poured straight into the body of a black crow.
The crow's eyes instantly vanished, leaving only a pale white color, as it flapped its wings and took flight.
As the invisible energy left the body, the chill within Jaime also began to gradually dissipate, and his gray-white hair slowly returned to its original color.
"Whew~"
"What just happened?"
Looking at his right hand with lingering fear, Jaime looked around blankly, only to see Cersei and Bran watching him with looks of shock and uncertainty.
" Arthas ..."
Cersei murmured; she was all too familiar with the aura of this energy, though she wasn't sure what exactly had happened.
She only knew that the scene just now was far too shocking.
It was as if she were facing the witch who had delivered that malicious prophecy to her when she was a child.
While the three were still in a standoff, not knowing what to do, a black crow swept in and dove straight at Bran's face.
Caught off guard, the young boy fell backward slowly under Jaime's shocked gaze, until the long golden hair in his eyes grew further and further away... Gold Cloaks Headquarters.
Arthas sat in his chair, panting heavily, with streaks of blood filling his silver-white eyes.
Even with the Magic Seed in Jaime's body as a medium, performing magic from thousands of miles away when his magic was less than one percent of its peak was still far too taxing.
However... after recovering slightly, Arthas slowly stood up, grasped frostmourne which was placed aside, and a faint smile appeared on his lips.
Now that he knew his approximate location, Arthas would dig him out even if he had to go to the ends of the earth.
Gently plunging frostmourne into the ground in front of him, the polished blade reflected his incredibly handsome face.
Mysterious syllables danced in his throat as the lich king finally began to call his subordinates:
"Davon Lannister..."
"My most loyal Death Knight..."
"Respond to your King's call immediately..."
...At this time, far beyond the Wall, Davon was holding a greatsword, blood staining his crimson armor, which, mixed with the snow, revealed a strange sense of beauty.
Before him, an ugly man with a missing ear was curled up on the ground, shivering.
Inside the room, several corpses lay scattered about, and without exception, they were all women.
"Disgusting fellow."
Davon frowned as he looked at the ugly man before him, cursed, and slowly raised his greatsword, cleanly and efficiently ending his sinful life.
Scanning the corpses on the ground, Davon shook his head helplessly; he actually didn't want to kill them... after all, a Death Knight is still a knight.
Adhering to the principle of protecting the weak, he had originally intended to liberate these women living in misery.
But what Davon didn't know was that although he was already strong enough, he was still just a hot-blooded young man.
When he led the women to find Craster, the ugly man gave an order, and the foolish women mindlessly stabbed their scissors, daggers, and other weapons into his body.
"Sigh..."
Casting a Death Coil, the eerie green light devoured Craster's Soul, and the wounds on Davon's body were all healed.
Just as he was about to leave, ancient whispers sounded in his ear, and the blood-soaked Death Knight immediately knelt on one knee:
"My King, are you summoning me?"
Plunging his greatsword into the ground with both hands, he lowered his head and quietly listened to the lich king's command.
"Davon Lannister..."
"My most loyal Death Knight..."
Arthas's voice rang directly in his ear:
"The Heresy has begun to show itself; I had a brief encounter with it in Winterfell..."
"I have imprinted its approximate location in your mind. Put aside your current task for now..."
"Go, Death Knight!"
"Find it, rip out its heart, and tear out its Soul..."
The whispering ended, and Davon reached out his right hand, clenching it against his chest, answering the air before him devoutly and solemnly:
"For the lich king!"
After confirming that Arthas's instructions had ended, Davon slowly stood up and walked out into the wind and snow.
"Can... can you take me with you?"
A clear female voice came. Davon turned to look and saw a young girl with slightly protruding teeth hiding behind a pillar, looking at him timidly.
When the conflict occurred, the women who launched the sneak attack were all killed by Davon, and the rest had scattered and fled.
Except for the girl in front of him... she neither fought nor fled, but had been hiding behind the pillar, silently observing everything.
"What is your name?"
Seeing that this woman still dared to think about following him after he had killed so many people, Davon couldn't help but admire her courage.
"Gilly... my name is Gilly."
"Please let me follow you, my lord."
"I can work, I can do anything."
The girl answered hurriedly and even took off her clothes, her fair and slender body appearing before Davon without reservation.
"Put them back on."
Davon was not interested in the girl's smooth body; he only gave it a faint glance and looked away.
Taking off the badge from his chest and placing it in her hand, he then fumbled in his robes for a while and pulled out a sleeping infant.
God knows how this little fellow managed to sleep so soundly in such a noisy slaughter.
"Gilly, right?"
After she nodded in confirmation, Davon instructed calmly:
"Both you and the child would only be a burden for what I am about to do."
"Take this, cross the Wall to Last Hearth, and find a fellow named Small Jon."
"Don't worry, the Nights Watch will open the gate for you when they see my Badge."
Regardless of her reaction, after Davon finished speaking, he simply picked up his sword and slowly walked into the swirling ice and snow.
"Oh, right!"
Under Gilly's gaze filled with worry for the future, Davon slowly turned his head, the snow falling continuously on his gray-white long hair and broad shoulders:
"Remember, my name is Davon Lannister."
"Tell Small Jon my name and have him feed this child well."
"Otherwise, when I return, I'll beat him every time I see him!"
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