Game of Thrones: The Black Dragon King

The best lie is never a lie, but a lie in which every word is true, yet the person understands what you want them to understand.

"My mother said I was picked up from outside," Reed recalled the lies his own mother told him when he was a child.

Abandoned baby? Adopted son? Viserys wondered to himself.

"In her eyes, I am a unique and special child."

In a mother's eyes, all her children are special, but Viserys heard something else entirely: the silver-haired, purple-eyed Valyrian child stood out among the vast majority of races.

"One year ago, I encountered a special being that I couldn't fight against. You could think of it as a god with supreme power." Reed recalled his original body, which had been reduced to an atomic state by the alien force. "It said it was all an accident it caused, and it was quite ashamed. It even said it would correct its mistake, so it sent me here."

Viserys thought this was utterly insane. Reason told him that the man before him must be mentally unstable; but looking into Reed's calm eyes, his intuition told him: this young man was not lying.

"What kind of accident?"

Reed recalled the blinding light that had outpaced his observation and thought processes. "It was so fast I didn't even have time to react. There was no warning, just a blinding flash of light and a massive explosion that warped space. By the time I could see clearly again, I was already standing on the outskirts of Pentos."

Reid paused, then looked up at Viserys. He hadn't told a single lie, and his gaze remained calm.

"The Hammer of the Sea? The Cataclysm of Valyria?" After pondering for a while, Viserys came up with a few guesses. "Perhaps, you always belonged here?"

The king was silent for a moment, then his gaze deepened: "What exactly are you trying to say?"

"The future queen will be a healthy adult woman, and you will have children, more than one. They too will ride dragons, have their own vassals, and a large following. How can you guarantee that the nobles who desire a male heir will not turn their support to your other sons? Which will be more convincing: royal decree or the law?"

"You're exaggerating! Hundreds of lords witnessed this! Hundreds of lords swore allegiance at the same time! How could such an absurd thing happen!"

"An oath is a very fragile right because it comes from the approval of others and self-restraint, rather than external control."

"You're exaggerating!" Viserys' trembling hands betrayed his inner turmoil.

Rhett's words continued to ramble on like a viper's hiss: "Your health is still excellent; you could easily live another fifty years. But by then, half of the old ministers who witnessed the oath will likely be gone, and your young children will have grown up. They will inevitably form a force that rivals your legal heir. When you are summoned by the Strangers, none of your children will submit to the others, and Westeros will be plunged into a civil war among the Dragon Houses—a protracted, costly, and ultimately fruitless civil war..."

"Enough!" Viserys roared, slamming his Blackfire Sword heavily onto the sand. Sand billowed up with his movement, landing on his royal robes. The king's breathing became rapid, his eyes bloodshot, like a raging dragon.

Reid remained unmoved, his gaze still firm: "Your Majesty, I have no intention of offending you, but merely making a bold prediction about the possible future and discussing how to prepare for it. We all know that the cruelty of power struggles far surpasses the sword fights on the battlefield."

Viserys took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, and looked at Reid with a complicated expression: "So, what do you think should be done?"

That's exactly what I was waiting for. Reid smiled slightly and said, "Cut off the wings of your other children, suppress their power, and they will have no ability to rebel, so naturally there will be no rebellion."

Viserys hesitated for a moment upon hearing this, then said, "That's unlikely! They are all my children. I want them to be a loving family. No, they are family! I will teach them, raise them together, and nurture their bond from childhood..."

"Excuse my bluntness, but a father's influence on his children is far less than that of a mother, and your future queen is a true Haitar."

"Then what do you want!" Viserys roared.

"Since you are unwilling to suppress your other children, then you must give the legal heir the power to subdue all who resist. May I allow you to build an army for Renilla to strengthen her power? Rather than legal principles and recognition of rights derived from others, I prefer violence—a more primal, barbaric, direct, yet fundamental form of power. Simple and domineering, yet capable of suppressing everything. In this way, when chaos arises, she can use her own strength to eliminate all obstacles and ensure the stable succession of the Iron Throne." Reid's voice was calm and resolute, each word cutting through the air with the precision of an ice blade.

"Killing one's father will be cursed!"

"There are more sophisticated methods, such as confinement. Dangerous individuals with potential risks are closely monitored and kept under surveillance, not allowed to leave their sight, but allowed to marry and have children, indulge in sensual pleasures, and be served the best food, drink, and entertainment until they die of old age."

Viserys frowned. Though a kind-hearted man, he was not without political acumen. While he often bury his head in the sand like an ostrich, he possessed an exceptionally keen sense of unease and danger. What that wretched man said was not unfounded, but his deep-seated paternal instincts put him in a dilemma. After a moment of silence, he slowly spoke: "Violence alone cannot sustain lasting rule."

"Of course, violence is the foundation and prerequisite. One must first seize the power of life and death in order to compel subjects to obey the monarch's will. Subsequently, through wise decisions and benevolent governance, one gradually wins recognition and trust. This is a gradual and progressive process."

Give me a reason to trust you!

"I am a solitary traveler seeking stability, and family is the greatest source of stability. My wife and children are the key to my close connection with the world and the roots I have planted on this land."

"Will Renilla be your wife?"

"I want to marry her. The bloodline of the dragon riders needs to be passed down, and in addition to pure dragon blood, there is also the honor of integrating the bloodline of Seris into the Iron Throne."

Viserys's gaze deepened, as if weighing the meaning behind each word. He stared into Reid's eyes and said gravely, "Tell me, how can you guarantee that you won't sacrifice family ties in your pursuit of power?"

"How about making kinship the power itself?" Reed looked directly into Viserys' eyes.

······

"A thousand men is a suitable number, but it must be in the name of Renilla, and all soldiers and officers must swear allegiance to her."

"Too little! Not enough to form a decisive force."

"At this stage, once your first child is born, you can expand your army to five thousand people."

"I have no objection."

"Then, I will announce your marriage at the banquet."

"Does Your Highness know?"

"You may be a scoundrel, but you won't find a better young man in the entire Seven Kingdoms. To prevent Renilla from missing out on a good match, I'll make the decision."

"Then please allow me to address you differently, Father-in-law!"

……

"That's a rather complicated explanation..."

"...You can also interpret it as a god possessing supreme power...It says this was caused by an accident it created..."

"...I am now standing on the land outside Pentos."

In the cave at the center of the Fish Weirwood Forest on Thousand Faces Isle of Divine Eye Lake, a green prophet, whose face was covered with mushrooms and spores and whose foot bones and fingertips showed signs of skeletalization, suddenly opened his eyes. He was almost growing out of the roots of the Heart Tree.

"He's lying!"

North of the Great Wall, in a dark cave beneath a solitary, towering heart tree, a more ancient, wooden, and decaying voice added.

"He didn't lie; his figure is nowhere to be found in the river of time..."

"We do not know everything, and there are always places where the power of the Old Gods cannot reach."

"But he carries an aura that doesn't belong here."

"Outsider!"

"He does not belong to this world, nor to the past, nor to the prophecy... He shattered the threads of time and fell where he should not have."

"He has messed up the future, making it blurry."

"But the ripples he stirred have been absorbed into the river of time."

"Let the children get ready and start singing."

"The source language will be carried everywhere by the wind and the water, and all capable people and gods will know it."

"But this land has had enough of outsiders."

"Those who know about it also include the out-of-control weapon."

"At least he is our creation."

……

In the temple of the goddess of lust, the moment the dancer twirls, a shattered illusion explodes before her eyes: a black dragon banner sweeps across the corridor, flames engulf the ground, priests and handmaids are brutally pinned down by armored soldiers, the shrill sound of chains being dragged is deafening, and the hall of love is reduced to ashes in the blink of an eye...

When the illusion dissipated, the scene before her was still one of feasting and revelry, filled with the sweet scents of flowers, perfume, and wine. But the dancer suddenly burst into a fit of suffocating gasp and collapsed to the ground, her face pale.

In the Black and White Courtyard, a benevolent figure, seated in meditation, was about to drink the fourth cup of poison when the elusive meditative state suddenly descended: all around was darkness and blurriness, and amidst the trembling, chaotic light and shadow, only two figures stood out clearly. The figure with a red armor and a black dragon emblem on its chest was pierced by a sharp blade, its body falling, but the chief was also engulfed in dragon flames.

The kind-looking man suddenly opened his eyes, and the broken cup in his hand fell to the ground.

At the foot of Mount Our Lady in Dothraki, the aged Doshikarin, twisting a sacred rope woven from horsehair, suddenly trembled, and only the wind and sand carried a brief prophecy to his ears: Riding the world's steed...

On the black goat altar in Kohor, the sacrificial fire suddenly shrank to a single point, and terrifying fragments flashed in the priest's eyes: the goat-horned statue collapsed with a crash, soldiers with knives drove away the kneeling believers, and even the blood pool for sacrifice was evaporated by the flames...

Inside the temple of Red Bull Ah Kun, worshippers prayed in unison. But the priest's eyes betrayed a sense of unease—he sensed, deep within him, the faint connection he felt with the gods had been silently severed…

At the Temple of the Night Lions, their star is being swallowed by a colossal black shadow, and a chilling aura pierces the mind of the prophet...

Before the rocky beach, the Mermaid King's priestess, Conch Shell, sobbed...

The hooded traveler in the woods suddenly stopped...

The Moon Singers' song abruptly ceased under the moonlight, which was as pale as paper. To their horror, they discovered that they could no longer sense the Moon Goddess's presence; the faint divine connection had been completely severed.

Holy water surged violently at the deep water altar of the Father of Heavy Water...

Inside the Immortal Temple of Qarth, the wizards stared at the glass bead, its brilliance shattering inch by inch, spewing forth eerie blue flames.

In the dark room of Harrenhal, Ari Rivers awoke with a start.

Amidst the stormy waves of the Iron Islands, the Ironborn, catching their breath from the drowning ceremony, suddenly opened their eyes wide. "I see it! I see it! Endless fire and conquest, the watery palace of the Drowned God is calling me!"

The priest, frowning, pushed the drowning man back into the sea.

Countless aliens who worshipped the Old Gods had the same dream: in their dream, they saw a giant axe cutting down the Heart Tree, and a blue-eyed white demon driving an endless ghoul to fight against a boundless army of red-robed warriors.

North of the Great Wall, in the far north, in the land of eternal winter. A pair of icy blue eyes suddenly opened, and lips as withered as frostbite uttered a series of sharp words, like an ice lake cracking or glass shattering.

The signs were fragmented, yet they all pointed to the same place.

……

Char, the ancestral temple of Rahlo.

A figure with copper-red hair, wearing a red robe and a large ruby ​​around the neck, used pale hands with gorgeous red nail polish to stir the fire pit. The tiny flames lying dormant in the dark red embers suddenly turned into raging flames, gradually changing from crimson to yellowish-green.

In the flames, countless ships were set ablaze by the dragon's form, reduced to ashes...

Amidst the flames, a terrifying dragon roared above the clashing armies...

Amidst the flames, a black dragon soared over Valantis...

Amidst the flames, hundreds upon hundreds of silver-haired, purple-eyed men, women, and children lay sprawled within the inferno, while on the high platform, a silver-white, semi-petrified dragon egg stood out starkly…

Amidst the flames, a colossal silver dragon was born from the sacrificial fire, bowing its head before a robust old man clad in a governor's robe...

Amidst the flames, a colossal silver dragon soared above the army bearing the black dragon banner, indiscriminately spewing dragonfire...

The revelations of the Lord of Light, unprecedented in quantity and concrete in nature.

"Someone come here!"

"Master Priest."

"I need information about recent events in Essos and Westeros. The Lord of Light has given too many revelations; I need more information to help me interpret them..."