Game of Thrones: I loaded the Witcher system

Following Ser Aenys Frey, this was the fourth time that Clay stepped into the tower that symbolized the highest power in the Twins. This time, he was saying goodbye.

He has long been accustomed to seeing the Freys looking at him everywhere. After stepping on countless damp and dark black floor tiles, Clay followed Inis Frey to the study room located high in the tower.

The moment he opened the door, Clay felt a blast of hot air blowing into his face. Apparently, someone lit the fireplace in the study, which caused such a huge temperature difference between the inside and outside.

With such a small detail, Clay felt keenly that the years were still eroding Walder Frey's body like a dead tree bit by bit. He couldn't feel the cold at all now, but this ninety-year-old The old man lit the fireplace.

Time is fair to most people. This is the will of the gods. However, there are always some creatures in this world who resist this will, such as the priests of the Red God further south, and those hiding in the north. The servants of the Cold God in the wind and snow, and of course, Clay himself.

The door shaft creaked, and Aenys Frey led Clay into the house. The fiery red sunlight filtered in through the cracks in the half-opened window and crawled slowly on the black oak tabletop.

The owner of Twins City was covering himself with a thick animal skin blanket, burying his body in a chair, closing his eyes and dozing off. Clay noticed that there was a letter from a raven on his table.

Probably hearing the footsteps, Marquis Walder Frey took five seconds to transform himself from a groggy state back to the perverse and stern Lord Marquis. He looked at Clay and Aenys standing next to him. · Frey.

After a while, the thin old man made a sarcastic question and shouted to his son:

"Inis, you uneducated thing, why didn't you inform me first when the guests were coming? With a son like you, I feel like I'm living in seven hells. Why don't you even have time to say hello to your father? No?"

Clay was stunned, not understanding where Walder Frey's sudden outburst of anger came from. How could he scold his son like this in front of outsiders? Isn't this a joke?

"As for you, my distinguished guest from White Harbor, tell me, why did you come here with my stupid son and make a noise that I am entering the dreams of girls' bodies?"

Frowning slightly, Walder Frey didn't seem to care at all whether these words were on the stage. Clay could completely understand what a young man in his teens or 20s was saying.

But if the person who said this was a ninety-year-old man who had just married an eighteen-year-old girl, and spoke like this without any scruples, it would be somewhat indescribably ugly and disgusting.

"Lord Marquis, I received news that my caravan in White Harbor was looted north of the Twins City, near the Neck. Many people unfortunately died there. As the heir, I need to go there immediately."

This is a greeting. If the guests want to leave, Walder Frey, as the owner, must give or return the horses to them. This is regarded as the termination of the guests' rights.

"Oh, that's right...Bless the Seven Gods, and pray that those poor people will return to the embrace of the Seven Gods soon."

Originally it was nonsense with no nutrition, just words of comfort for the sake of face, but if the person who said this was smiling but not smiling, and coupled with a face like a weasel, this so-called comfort would not be felt at all.

Moreover, it seemed that the Lord Marquis had already received the news and did not act surprised at all.

The head without a single hair was slightly lowered, and then raised up after a few seconds. Perhaps this was considered mourning? But that doesn't matter. The lost souls of White Harbor probably won't like the condolences from Frey.

"Okay, you go away, Inis, go and return the horses to our friends from White Harbor, take some people with you, and go see that place. After all, south of the Neck, where the Green Fork River flows, It still belongs to our Frey family."

The rest of the words turned into babbling, vague words that Clay couldn't quite understand. Aenys Frey, who was standing next to him, pulled him, then took the lead in saying hello to his father, and then turned around. Left the room.

Clay, who understood, followed suit and exited the study room that was filled with the smell of burning wood.

When he came outside the door, Sir Aenys Frey was leaning against the dark wall, waiting for him. He put one hand on his chin and played with his silver-white beard. This seemed to be what he was most used to. One of the actions.

Looking at each other in silence, there were only two people, Clay and Aenys Frey, in the long corridor, which was as deep as a tomb. The only bystander was probably the flickering candle light plugged into the wall.

"As for my previous proposal, Clay Mandler, let's discuss it later. I don't care where you got the news from. I'm telling you what I know now."

After a pause, he continued:

"The attack probably happened last night. The first person who discovered it was the merchant leader who passed by the next morning. That place is a knight fiefdom in the northernmost part of Frey. After the guy got the news, he immediately used raven to inform I."

"As for who killed them, how they killed them, and how many people, to be honest, I don't know. It happened at night. Except for corpses on the ground, nothing was left at the scene to prove their identity."

"So, as the heir of White Harbor, of course the people from White Harbor will go if you die. As a descendant of the Frey family, there is such a mysterious force that can silently eat dozens of people on the land of the family. Gangsters, you must go and see it.”

He shrugged, with a hint of helplessness in his voice:

"This is not my mission, it belongs to my eldest brother Steve Lun. It's a pity that he has other things to deal with now. So, let's go, my friend from White Harbor, take your army with you. I'll be at the gate of the city. Waiting for you, we’ll talk on the way.”

…

Although it was already evening, Clay was not going to go back to the house to sleep again and let the corpses of the White Harbor caravan wait for him all night. Obviously, Aenys Frey was also eager to know what this mysterious power was. who.

Riding his horse out of the city, Clay, who was covered in armor, once again returned to the protection of 200 cavalry. Under the light of torches, he and the 100 Frey cavalry who had gathered together headed north on a starry night, heading towards where a brutal killing took place. The bloody place galloped away.

Before leaving, he had released the raven carrying the news, and his old man would receive it as soon as possible. Whether it was for this batch of formula ingredients or not, with his keenness, Clay believed that he would definitely think of this.

What has been lost cannot be found, and the safety of the caravan still on the way is the top priority.