"Spirituality is the foundation of the spellcaster, but although the psychic faction has an advantage in spirituality, it is also more difficult to be discovered, but the physical body is as fragile as mortals, do you really no longer consider it?"

"No, I don't want to be a freak with three hands or five legs, and I don't want to be the kind of alien who drinks human blood to sustain life." The woman stroked the cheek of the man in the same bed in a daze, and moaned, "I don't want you to hate me, I don't want to." ”

"Why, even if you become a woman with three mouths, I won't hate you, and, then, at some point." The man grinned and whispered in his bedmate's ear.

"You hate ......"

……

When he opened his eyes, his mind seemed to be reverberating with his previous dreams, and Charles blinked,

"Hold back for too long and have spring dreams?"

"But the protagonist is not me......"

Silently, he sat up, but his eyes saw a note scattered on the ground.

"Burning braziers, spell-casting wizards, demonic whispers, and charred flesh"

Written on it were the babbling remarks of the red-robed goddess, the result of a careful study by Charles last night.

He was a little unimpressed at the time, but in retrospect, he didn't completely ignore it, although he felt that it was a bit ridiculous and unreliable that his fate was foretold by a local witch.

But who can be sure of this kind of thing?

What if it's really dangerous?

In case of......

"It's just, what kind of crisis will it be?"

Secretly pondering, Charles kept this question in his heart.

He felt he had to be vigilant; Although in this world, his vigilance never dissipated.

After washing up and putting on his coat, Charles walked out of the tent, and saw Bolton in the distance commanding something in the lakeside clearing, and as he approached, the voice came to his ears.

"The trail of the grass is suspicious, since it is not a hired rider, then it is very likely that some ill-intentioned stalker, Neil, you take a small team to leave the lurking hall, and find them out for me!"

"Guise, you're not far from Neil, and if you encounter a large army, send a messenger to inform you at any time, and I will order the team to slow down."

"Phoebe, you ......"

"I don't think you're too interested in a small group of mountain bandits." Seeing that he kept giving orders, Charles, who was listening quietly, said casually.

"How?" Burton couldn't help but look at him.

"No, it's just a gang of robbers." Charles shrugged his shoulders and said nothing.

……

The team was delayed for a long time before it hit the road again, and after being "startled" by a rabble of deserters-turned-robbers, Bolton retaliated and cut off the heads of the group one by one and hung them on the tips of their guns.

Then the long journey began.

Hurrying on horseback one after another, occasionally practicing spells, and occasionally bothering the freaks, they finally reached their destination after the fifth day of entry.

King's Landing.

The city looks like a puddle of yellow pancakes, covered with dense "black sesame seeds" and occasionally dotted with a little brightly colored "fruit chunk". A long bump extends from the edge, and the red ketchup spirals upwards at the edge of the bump, forming a puddle of "".

The Red Keep, where the royal family is located, has always been this "", tall and independent, standing quietly on the high hills of Aegon near Blackwater Bay in King's Landing, and the classical spires can be clearly seen even outside the city.

It's not for nothing that this metaphor exists, the city is bigger than any city on Westeros, but it also smells better than any other.

When the group entered through the Dragon's Gate in the northwest corner of King's Landing, they were greeted by none of the royal ministers, not the knights of the Bald King, or even Eddard, who had arrived before them. Stark.

It's the stench.

Rotting fruits, feces, urine, the smell of rotting corpses, household garbage, stinky gutters everywhere on the roadside...... And so on and so on, and as soon as they appeared, it was like a heat wave.

Every soldier couldn't help but hide their noses when they entered the city gates, but even if they covered their cheeks with their cuffs, it was difficult to stop the smell of "attacks" from all directions.

"It fucking stinks!"

The always expressionless Luce. Bolton couldn't help but scold, pinching his nose, he looked at Charles: "Lord Wizard, please give me a spell to lose my sense of smell, I am very urgent about it." ”

"That's easy, just pinch your nose." Charles replied with a glance.

After a long period of contact, you will find that the Earl of Bolton still looks different from his dull appearance, and he has some dry humor.

It's just that it doesn't usually show up.

……

The procession slowly entered the city, passing the vegetable market at the gates, the streets shadowed by the Reynisfs hills, flea nests, and St. Baylor's Cathedral with its six crystal spires.

Along the way, dense crowds of civilians hurriedly dodged the heavily armed army, and some of them were too late to react or a little slower to react, and they were immediately kicked aside or shouted loudly by a certain soldier, so the procession entered the city smoothly.

The surrounding buildings are still filthy and cramped, with narrow and dreary alleys, slums covered in black linen sheds, noisy alleys and canteens, and filthy and smelly gutters throughout the city......

The scenes haven't changed at all, but compared to when Charles left, it seems that there are more people and denser.

"War broke out in the Riverlands, and most of the refugees came to King's Landing. According to the statistics of the school city, the population of King's Landing is more than 500,000, and now I think this number is far more than that, and it is really crowded enough. ”

Burton said as he hurried, disgusted by the large number of refugees around him.

Charles nodded thoughtfully in response.

No one recognized him on the road, and despite the sensation he had caused in the city, the people at the bottom didn't have that much to care about - they didn't have enough to eat, and who cared about the dangerous games between the big names of the Seven Kingdoms?

The brief discussion and eagerness have long been worn away by the problems of life, and all that can be seen at this time is numb and slightly crazy cheeks.

"The Lannisters must not have done anything good before leaving." Burton commented, but didn't seem to take it very seriously.

Charles agrees.

As the team continued to go deeper, people on the road avoided one after another, and as far as the eye could see, the yellow-skinned appearance and the hatred implied in the eyes of this group of passing nobles were all frightening.

He even met a sloppy woman who threw rotten vegetables at him, with a dirty face and naked.

The soldiers around them drew their weapons and prepared to charge into the crowd, but Charles waved to stop them.

"It's important to hurry."

So the soldiers sheathed their swords.

Charles wasn't really a kind-hearted person, but no matter how bad his temper was, he couldn't be as knowledgeable as a madman.

When the vegetable was on the ground, he had already seen the target of "attacking" him, and she was not a normal person.

Yes, she's a lunatic.

This conclusion was not entirely due to the woman's appearance and the prompts that appeared in front of her.

[A crazy girl, she once encountered something very unpleasant]

……

So under the stunned gaze of the people, this "noble young master" dressed in luxurious robes and with dirty and rotten tomatoes on his chest glanced at the initiator so lightly, and then rode away without care.

This was a bit unexpected by the civilians around him, who looked at his back one by one with stunned expressions and stunned expressions. The person concerned did not have this kind of consciousness, but smiled and took out a rotten vegetable from the basket carried by his arm, and threw it at the other soldiers.

……

As I hurried, everything I saw was full of oppression, and the whole city was like a volcano about to erupt, and the restless and dangerous smell was "pungent", which was simply terrifying.

"It's a city that's about to explode." Charles was secretly vigilant.

The surrounding nobles ignored this, it was a habit that had been cultivated for thousands of years, and it seemed that as long as they had the military power at hand, they could completely ignore this group of ordinary people.

However, Charles is not so optimistic. Countless histories have proved that the outbreak of peasant revolts was the craziest and most thorough, and in contrast, the confrontation between the nobles seemed mild.

"But it's not my turn to do that."

Thinking so, Charles simply turned a blind eye.

He came here to improve his strength and then ponder through the shuttle door, but not to carry forward the spirit of equality of all beings in the previous life or to save all people—that was the job of the eyebrow monster, not him, a dark wizard.

Besides, even if you want to manage it, how should you manage it?

Thinking so, Charles began to pay no attention to the world around him.

However, as he passed by a towering hill at the edge of the street, a loud and magnificent mysterious voice suddenly appeared, in all directions, majestic and solemn, like a god whispering!

Charles was startled by the sudden sound, and he turned his head to see that the others were unresponsive as if they hadn't heard.

So he kept looking for the direction the sound came from, and finally looked at the tall "peak" on his left, or the strange buildings on the peak, which looked like ruins.

"Where is that?" He asked.

"That's the Dragon's Lair, where House Targaryen keeps their horrible pets in captivity." The courtier who led them on their way replied.

Dragon's Lair? Can a dragon's lair cause this kind of sound?

How do I feel that the sound is similar to the one I make when I practice purification?

Charles was secretly puzzled, but only nodded on the surface.

The marching party didn't have time for him to stop, and he wasn't arrogant enough to leave the group alone in the midst of the mess of the city, so he took a close look at the place, and then Charzema departed.

At this point, the sound of the gods that swirled around his ears disappeared.