Game of Thrones: I Created the Magic Web

Chapter 66: The Death of a King

The fragrance lingered on his tongue, refusing to dissipate.

Joffrey rinsed his mouth with wine again and again, but the delightful, sweet taste seemed to penetrate his very soul, rich and intense.

Yet, he would have preferred to taste sourness and bitterness.

As far as he knew, people shouldn't eat people, at least not in the physical sense.

It was all the lizard-lion's fault; the creature shouldn't even possess a sense of taste.

This feeling was too bizarre.

He had never imagined that his final impression of the king would be so delicious and temptingly decadent.

It was almost like devouring the personification of power from the king's body, both real and surreal.

Power had a flavor.

Perhaps it was due to this association that he couldn't even control the lizard-lion from slightly restraining itself, only able to watch it tear apart the king's body with savage abandon.

The king's death was irreversible.

From that moment on, he knew clearly that he had completely transformed.

No matter how things unfolded in the future, he, now stepping onto the stage, had completely lost any chance of retreat.

Once the crown was on, there would be no peaceful way to take it off.

King, ah.

"King Robert I of House Baratheon is dead, may he rest in peace."

Everyone, from Queen Cersei downwards, wore expressions of grief, and many servants who loved and respected the king cried out in sorrow.

The king's body was covered with a golden banner, with many dark red patches of blood seeping from various places.

Without a doubt, the king did not pass away peacefully.

Eddard stared blankly, feeling as if it were a nightmare.

Just an ordinary day.

Moments ago, Robert was still boasting about his strength, his laughter loud enough to spread throughout the forest, but then he encountered such a monster and ended up like this.

Wasn't this a nightmare?

Lizard-lions had actually appeared in the Riverlands, and they were stronger and larger than ever seen before.

Eddard instantly realized the danger.

He tried his best to protect his good brother, but that damned boar had blocked him for a few breaths.

Only a few breaths, but it was the difference between life and death.

By the time Eddard and half of the soldiers had crossed the bloody, mangled boar and rushed towards the king, all of the soldiers there were already lying on the ground, and Robert's body was being tossed around in the monster's long mouth, with blood and flesh constantly dripping.

It was only at this point that Ser Barristan and the other knights finally appeared behind them, but it was too late.

Ruby Ford, the place where Rhaegar had fallen, had ultimately become Robert's burial ground as well.

Was this a joke played on the world by the gods in heaven? Or a punishment for the usurper?!

A heavy, cold piece of steel suddenly pressed down on Eddard's heart, making him almost unable to grip his sword hilt, and the fire of revenge became his last and only motivation.

He led the team towards the lizard-lion.

The ferocious monster knew to be afraid at this point, immediately dropping Robert's broken body and running towards the river with a wag of its tail, but its speed was far slower than when it had attacked.

Eddard quickly caught up, holding his longsword and slowing the lizard-lion's steps.

Barristan and Jaime and the other knights quickly joined the battle.

More soldiers tacitly surrounded the king-slaying monster, and the battle area wasn't large; if they rushed in, they would only cause trouble.

Ordinary soldiers suddenly became a group of spectators.

The monster was still roaring, and the king's body lay quietly on the beach, violently impacting people's minds and brutally stuffing the truth into their heads.

A beast had killed the king!

Who could have imagined it?

They were starting to believe those absurd plots from the legends and stories.

The battle went very smoothly.

The enraged knights displayed their greatest skills.

The monster had completely reverted to a beast with only instincts, senselessly wasting its strength.

It was easily lured by the longswords used as bait, snapping left and right, charging forward, and sweeping its tail back, but the only thing it could touch was the sharp edge of the blades.

Deadly threats were coming from all directions, and it didn't dare to focus on attacking any one enemy, only able to crawl back and forth in the small circle, wary of everything.

It wanted to mobilize that power within its body, but there was no response at all, as if it had never existed.

Apart from its abnormal size, it was no different from the lizard-lions in the Neck back then, and its speed was even slower and its reactions more sluggish.

Suddenly, it shook its head and let out an angry, painful roar; one of its eyes was gone!

The knights had seized the opening.

The gilded longsword directly pierced the lizard-lion's remaining eye, and in an instant, thick, turbid fluid burst out from its eye.

Its roar became louder and more frantic.

The pitch-black Valyrian steel sword was immediately thrust into the lizard-lion's wide-open mouth, and the sharp tip of the sword broke through the hard carapace behind its head, pinning the lizard-lion's mouth shut.

It couldn't help but roll around, trying to get rid of the steel in its mouth.

But more longswords then slashed open its vulnerable abdomen, forcefully cutting through muscles and churning up the more fragile internal organs inside.

It collapsed on the riverbank and stopped struggling.

The dust settled.

The boar hadn't escaped, the king-slaying lizard-lion was dead, and revenge for the king had been taken, but was this worth even a shred of joy?

Not a single person smiled.

Eddard had completely lost his soul; he didn't refuse Jory Cassel's support, only blankly watching the soldiers cover Robert with the banner, pull his "Ice" from the lizard-lion's mouth, and clean up all traces on the riverbank.

Even now, after the team had returned to the inn at the crossroads and the mourning ceremony for King Robert was about to end, Eddard was still unable to let go.

Was this really not a nightmare?

Eddard really wanted to sleep and wake up to hear Robert's laughter again and see that familiar face, even the ridiculously fat belly was so nostalgic.

But everything around him was reminding him that it was over.

The era of King Robert, who had personally hammered Rhaegar to death, was over; Robert, secretly referred to by some as the "usurper," had left the human world and returned to heaven.

He heard countless people praying to the gods to grant His Majesty the King rest.

But Eddard knew that his good brother, Robert, hated resting the most; letting him rest was like sending him to hell to be tortured.

"May the gods grant him love and laughter, and the joy of fighting for justice."

Robert, ah, is there fine wine and war in heaven? Is Lyanna there too? Please say hello to her for me, and may we eventually reunite.

"Lord Hand."

Ser Barristan walked over.

"The situation was urgent at the time, but now... it's all over.

His Majesty's departure is a great pain and disaster for the Seven Kingdoms, and the reasons for it may not be simple.

Please take a look at this news."

That's right.

I am the Hand of the King; Robert wanted me to help him govern the country, and I must take responsibility.

The Seven Kingdoms cannot fall into turmoil again.

If only for Robert, for his children.

Eddard hid the sadness in his heart deeper and took the wooden box from Barristan with a blank expression.

Bran quietly approached his father.

Bran didn't know if he was more sad or more relieved.

In that situation, he had thought his father was going to die, but the result was much better than he had imagined.

Only a king had died.

But he also understood his father's feelings at this time.

What if they had replaced the king with Robb? No, better not replace him.

He was also sad for His Highness.

Having lost his only father, His Highness must be very sad.

It was all the messenger's fault.

If the letter had arrived even half a day earlier, King Robert would have been fine, and none of this would have happened.

Bran stared at his father reading the letter, wondering how his father would react.

Blood Raven is so hateful!

His father suddenly clenched the letter, and his eyes surged with colors he couldn't understand, "Blood Raven..."