Spellcasting Gods

As for Kuro Kerba, who had just completed a long journey, he landed directly in the courtyard, closed his eyes, and fell fast asleep, completely ignoring the panicked servants and the horses that were neighing incessantly in fright.

Meanwhile, near the garden outside the Red Keep, Elena Redwyn, the Queen of Thorns, sat in an inconspicuous corner, expressionlessly watching the man opposite her, who was completely shrouded in a black cloak.

A full minute passed before she lowered her voice and said, "You know what? I don't like you at all, and I especially don't like working with you. But unfortunately, I don't seem to have any other choice right now."

"Hehe, you don't need to like me. You just need to know that cooperating with me will bring huge benefits to the Tyrell family," the man in the black cloak replied with a smile.

"Hmph! Do you think I would take such a huge risk if there weren't enough benefits? Remember, if I hear even the slightest rumor afterward, you'll face the wrath of the Tyrell family. I guarantee that no matter where you run, the assassins will arrive on schedule," Olenna Redwin threatened, narrowing her eyes.

"Please do not worry, my lady. In a way, I am also one of the accomplices. What good would it do me to be exposed? Besides, do you think the Lannisters will still be as invincible as they are now after the plan succeeds? No, they will quickly expose all sorts of problems and then slowly decline, while the Tyrell family will take over the power and become the true first family of the Seven Kingdoms." With that, the man removed the hood from his head, placed one hand on his chest, and bowed deeply.

Clearly, he was none other than Petyr Baelish, "Littlefinger".

Olenna Redwin curled her lip in disdain at such unrealistic flattery and praise, stood up without a word, and slowly disappeared into the dark castle passage with the help of her personal maid.

Gazing at the other's thin, aged back, Baelish's eyes were filled with mockery. He muttered to himself in a voice only he could hear, "Laugh at me, despise me all you want. Before long, I will make you, these so-called noble and ancient families, vanish one by one. Then you will understand who the final victor of this game is..."

Just as he was immersed in the huge conspiracy he had personally planned, a hideous and terrifying monster pattern suddenly appeared on the back of his hand. Then, every vein on his arm turned a terrifying black, like countless writhing worms.

Realizing what had happened, Little Finger instinctively bit her lip, curled up into a ball, and forced herself not to scream or wail.

After about three to five minutes, the bulging blood vessels began to slowly return to calm, and the black blood shrank back into the pattern on the back of the hand, finally disappearing completely as if it had never existed.

Feeling the lingering, intense pain in his nerve endings, he quickly wiped the sweat from his brow, gritting his teeth and growling, "Damn it! I have to get rid of this thing right now! I am the future master of the Iron Throne! Nobody can control me! Nobody!"

After venting his anger briefly, he quickly stood up and, taking advantage of the fact that no one around him was paying attention, hurried away from the castle and ran towards the dock.

He understood that until he found a way to break the blood magic, he had to act like a true servant, fulfilling all of the other party's demands, especially finding Varys's trail; otherwise, his death would be imminent in three days.

Busy times always pass exceptionally quickly. In the blink of an eye, the sun has slid below the horizon, leaving only half of its face visible as it casts its golden afterglow over the sea.

However, Zhang Cheng, who was hiding in the room and concentrating on fiddling with the meteorite, was completely unaware that the deadline he had set for himself had arrived. He continued to cast spells, trying to test the properties of the energy crystals inside the meteorite.

According to the magical system established in the magical kingdom of Dalaran, all forms of energy will inevitably have a certain critical point. Once this critical point is reached, the energy will instantly trigger a strong resonance and reveal its own attributes during the resonance process.

Strangely, he tried almost 80% of the spells, from low to high, but the energy crystals inside the meteorite remained unmoved.

Zhang Cheng can draw energy from it to replenish himself at any time, and he can also convert the energy stored in his body into magic to cast spells. However, he cannot directly use the energy itself to trigger the resonance of the meteorite.

It seems that something is preventing direct contact between energies, so a certain medium, such as the human body, is necessary to trigger a wonderful reaction.

“Interesting, I must have overlooked something…” He gently stroked the smooth surface of the meteorite and muttered to himself thoughtfully.

Although he wasted several hours, he did not show any signs of frustration or impatience.

From the moment he became a monk, he understood a principle: no matter what difficulties and setbacks he encountered, he must remain patient and find the answer he wanted through observation and repeated trials, otherwise terrible disasters would befall him.

Just as he was about to try again, there was a sudden knock on the closed door.

boom! boom! boom!

"Sir, a stranger who wishes to remain anonymous wishes to see you immediately. He is waiting in the front hall." The maid, Diana, said through the crack in the door.

"Oh? A stranger?" Zhang Cheng quickly grabbed a blanket to cover the meteorite, then opened the door himself.

“Yes, he was wearing a gray cloak, so you couldn’t see his face at all. Also, he gave me this, saying you’d understand once you saw it.” Diana quickly pulled a silver badge from her pocket.

Zhang Cheng took the badge and glanced at it, immediately noticing the majestic lion emblem below it. A playful smile appeared on his face: "Aha, I think I know who he is. Go, prepare a bottle of fine Dorne red wine, and order all servants to leave the front hall. No one is to approach until I give the order."

"Just one bottle of wine? Don't you need the kitchen to prepare a big dinner?" the girl asked, trying to sound clever.

“No need, one bottle of wine is enough.” After saying that, Zhang Cheng ignored Diana, locked the door behind him, and calmly walked along the pebbles to the front hall.

As soon as he stepped across the threshold, he saw a tall man standing in the center of the living room, one hand on the hilt of the sword hanging at his waist, the other hand clenched into a fist. Although the hood covered the area above his nose, the thick beard on his chin was enough to identify the man.

Chapter 0197 Negotiation

“Good evening, Your Grace. I am glad that you arrived before sunset, so that I do not have to worry about activating the backup plan. In any case, our previous cooperation has been quite pleasant, so I would like to maintain this good relationship of trust rather than find a new partner.”

As Zhang Cheng spoke, he took the red wine from the servant, waved for him to leave, and then uncorked the wine and filled two glasses.

Only after the servant had completely left did he push one of the glasses of wine in front of the guest, raise the other glass as a gesture, and then tilt his head back and drink it all in one gulp.

"So you let half the residents of King's Landing see a gigantic dragon fly over the city, forcing me to come and negotiate with you?"

Seeing that there was no one around who shouldn't be there, Tywin finally removed the hood that was covering his face, revealing undisguised anger on his face.

It should be noted that ever since the two families in the Westerlands that once mocked the Lannisters, Reyes and Tabek, were uprooted, no one has dared to directly challenge his authority, let alone use threats to force him to show himself.

But today, someone actually broke two taboos at the same time!

What he found even more unacceptable was that he was powerless to do anything about it and could only watch helplessly as this young man led him by the nose.

"Hahahaha! Please don't be angry. I just used what I thought was the most effective method. Also, don't tell me that after you learned I had a dragon, you didn't intend to get rid of me directly. But am I angry? No! I don't even feel a little bit angry, because you didn't actually take any action, did you?" Zhang Cheng laughed and put down the empty cup in his hand.

Clearly, he had anticipated this strong reaction, but he wasn't particularly concerned about it.

"What exactly do you want?" Tywin asked, narrowing his eyes.

Zhang Cheng hesitated for a moment, then quickly shrugged, adopting an indifferent expression: "You might not believe it, but there's nothing I particularly want. Neither power nor wealth means much to me. If I had to give a definite answer, I think it would be knowledge. Of course, I'm not referring to the stuff the maesters in the Citadel study, but rather magical knowledge that can truly grant a person supernatural powers."

"Hmph! You, a minor nobleman who lost his territory in a short time, have climbed to the position of Earl of Brightwater City, and you actually say you're not interested in wealth and power?" Tywin clearly didn't believe this statement and let out a sarcastic remark.

“No, no, no, Your Excellency, you seem to have misunderstood me. First of all, seizing power was never my intention; I merely wanted a little convenience to gather intelligence about the Children of the Forest. Secondly, I respect the rules of the game established by the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms; I have neither intended to break them nor have I violated any promises I made. Even when House Lannister was besieged by countless enemies, I still did everything that an ally should do. Finally, please don't vent your anger towards Tyrion on me. I am not your son and have no obligation to listen to your complaints and venting.” With that, Zhang Cheng raised his head and looked directly into the other man's cold and ruthless eyes.

Tywin gripped the glass of red wine tightly, as if he wanted to crush it with all his might. It took him two or three minutes to calm down before he lowered his voice and said, "Alright, I'll assume for now that you don't have much of a desire for power, but what did you say to Tyrion today that made him question whether I considered him a member of the Lannister family?"

"It's nothing. I was just telling him to understand his own identity so he wouldn't be used and then discarded every time," Zhang Cheng replied with a slight upturn of his lips.

“You’re trying to divide my family!” Tywin roared furiously.

Zhang Cheng chuckled and shook his head: "You probably know best what you think of Tyrion. I didn't try to split the Lannister family; I just hoped that after your death, I wouldn't be dealing with the foolish and short-sighted Cersei, nor Jaime who obeys her every word. Unfortunately, you didn't realize who is the most suitable heir to lead the family forward."

"Who inherits the Lannister family is none of your business. I just want to know what price we need to pay for you and your dragons to stand on our side?" Tywin clearly didn't intend to talk much about his children and went straight to the point.

He also understood that if Jaime inherited the title of Duke after his death, the Lannisters would inevitably be controlled by Cersei, and Cersei, lacking political wisdom, would only exacerbate the conflict and would never become a qualified ruler.

As for letting Tyrion, who was born with a disability, inherit the family, it was not even on his radar. He would rather the Lannisters be destroyed under Cersei's leadership than let the entire family suffer any more ridicule or humiliation.

In his eyes, Tyrion's mere existence was a stain on the family's honor.

Sensing Tywin's almost hateful attitude towards Tyrion, Zhang Cheng decisively changed the subject, grabbed a map hanging on the wall, and pointed to the southwest corner of Westeros: "I want this place!"

“Oldtown?! That’s the territory of House Hightower!” Tywin frowned instinctively.

Many people unfamiliar with the history of the Reach might simply think that House Hightower was just one of the many vassals of House Tyrell.

In reality, the Hightower family has a much longer history than the Tyrell family, and their wealth is in no way inferior to that of the Tyrell family. In addition, they possess the largest and most prosperous port in Westeros, as well as the support of the Citadel. They are far more powerful than they appear on the surface, and it is much more difficult to conquer Oldtown than to conquer King's Landing.

“Ah, that’s right, it’s the territory of the Hightar family. But don’t worry, it won’t be long before the Ironborn conquer this place, and the direct descendants of the Hightar family will be slaughtered. I will appear as a savior to save the civilians who have suffered there. All you have to do is give my actions a veneer of legitimacy. How about that? It shouldn’t be too difficult for you, right?” Zhang Cheng asked with a smile.

Tywin wasn't an idiot; he immediately understood the young man's plan and took a deep breath: "Aren't you afraid of incurring the hatred of the entire noble class by acting so recklessly?"

"Fear? Why should I be afraid? How many nobles do you think are capable of posing a threat to me right now? Besides, the destruction of Old Town wasn't because I coveted its wealth and land, but because the Hightoar family and the Citadel's hostile attitude towards magic destined one of us to fall. When dealing with an enemy, do I need to care about the means? I guarantee that after occupying Old Town, I will not take any further drastic actions..."

Chapter 0198 Signal

Without a doubt, negotiating with Tywin Lannister, who is serious, stubborn, conservative, and full of old-fashioned aristocratic ideas, is never an easy task, let alone a pleasant one.

However, Zhang Cheng eventually managed to reach a secret agreement with them, the contents of which were known to no one except the two parties involved.

But early the next morning, he received a piece of paper bearing the royal seal and Joffrey's signature. Once he wrote down the relevant information, it would immediately become a legally binding document, giving the deployment to Oldtown a "legal" veneer, at least on the surface.

Of course, everything comes at a price, especially something that countless nobles covet.

The price Zhang Cheng had to pay was marriage—a marriage contract that had been delayed for a long time and had not yet been fulfilled.

According to the secret agreement, he had to marry Elo Tyrell before the king's wedding, making her Mason Aspen's rightful wife.

To put it simply, the old aristocratic forces, led by Tywin and Olena, wanted to use things they believed could create strong constraints, such as emotions, family, and offspring, to put a noose around Zhang Cheng's neck, and then use that noose to firmly bind him to their own interests.

It must be said that if it were someone else, their strategy would have had a very high chance of success.

After all, not all men are so cold-hearted as to ignore a young, beautiful, gentle, and noble wife. As long as the two live together long enough, even a block of ice will slowly melt.

Unfortunately, Zhang Cheng's indifference was completely different from the indifference in the ordinary sense. He never had the idea of ​​integrating into this world, nor did he regard the people in this world as his own kind.

Although he himself wasn't quite sure whether this strange mentality stemmed from a deep-seated subconscious self-protection or from his brain forcibly distorting his perception of the outside world to alleviate the intense guilt brought about by the killing, it was precisely this unusual mentality that allowed him to avoid a lot of unnecessary trouble, such as conflicts in his morals, worldview, and values, as well as his attitude towards death...

Just hours before the wedding in King's Landing was about to begin, a massive fleet had been silently anchored at sea for several days in the southwestern corner of Westeros.

As the fleet's commander, Victorion Greyjoy was anxiously awaiting a signal.

In order to conceal their whereabouts as much as possible, his Iron Legion had not stopped at the port for resupply for a long time. They had less than three days' worth of food, fresh water and wine left.

If no signal of attack is received within three days, this painstakingly assembled fleet will instantly fall apart. The Ironborn, who always prioritize survival, will plunder every village and port in the surrounding area to satisfy their needs for food and fresh water.

Once this looting begins, the lords of the Shield Islands will receive the news within hours at most, making the raid on Oldtown an impossible objective.

Damn it!

The thought that his grand ambitions would be destroyed made Victalion unable to contain his anger, and he slammed his fist on the table.

Although the poor fellow had no idea that his intense obsession with the old town was not his own doing, but rather something implanted in him by the alluring pocket watch.

"Captain! Waiting like this isn't going to work! Why don't we retreat one after the other and raid the Lannister territory? I've heard the Westerlands produce gold, so we don't need to keep staring at Oldtown," the first mate suggested in a low voice.

He could sense that as food and water dwindled, the entire fleet was like a volcano about to erupt, ready to mutini at any moment.

The only way to calm the Ironborn, who have accumulated a great deal of resentment and anger, is to find a target to rob. Once the robbery is successful, everyone will calm down and obey the fleet commander's orders.

"No! No way! You don't understand! We only have one chance! I will not allow this opportunity to slip through my fingers!" Victorion shook his head vigorously, then ordered without turning his head, "Go! Send someone to check if there's still a signal to attack."

"Sigh, even if I watch it a hundred times, it's still the same..." Da Du sighed helplessly.

Before he could even turn and leave the captain's cabin, a young sailor rushed over, shouting as he ran, "Captain! Captain! There's a signal! A wisp of smoke is shooting straight into the sky from the southeast!"

"What?!" Victalion grabbed the binoculars and rushed to the deck. He held them up and looked into the distance, and sure enough, he saw a wisp of blue smoke rising from the direction of the Shield Islands.

Overjoyed, he didn't hesitate for a moment, and roared at the top of his lungs, "Weigh anchor! Raise sails! Order all captains to follow the flagship! Today, I will lead you to plunder the richest port city on this continent—Oldtown! People of the Iron Islands! Show your courage and ferocity! Let the enemy see who the master of the sea is!"

"Ooooooooooo!!!! Long live Captain Iron Ship!"

"Damn it! I'm going crazy from holding it in!"

"Hurry up! Stop fucking dawdling! Otherwise, you won't be sharing the loot later!"

……

In an instant, shouts, curses, and cheers filled the air as every Iron Citizen began to maneuver their warships with all their might, following the route arranged by Zhang Cheng, bypassing the surveillance of the Shield Islands and heading straight for the old town.

They were completely unaware that just a dozen nautical miles away, two equally large fleets were engaged in fierce combat. One side was none other than the lords of the Shield Islands and the Hightoar family, while the other was a ragtag fleet composed of countless pirates.

For some unknown reason, the pirates, who had always been hostile to each other, united as never before, and even though they suffered huge losses, they had no intention of retreating or surrendering.