The Mountain of Ice and Fire

The witch's long hair was neatly combed and draped over her shoulders, flowing like cloth to the ground. With the maids arranged for her by the Mountain, the witch no longer appeared dirty, disheveled, aged, or dark.

But when she opened her mouth, her teeth were still black, shining black, looking like black jade stones.

"Witch, may I ask about things unrelated to myself but that I want to know?" The Duke's authority was as unwavering as ever.

The Duke's question was prompted by the Mountain's secret advice. The Mountain said that the witch's ability was not limited to seeing the future of the blood's owner through blood, but also to seeing fragments of the future and past without blood.

This was a secret about the witch's hidden abilities revealed by the Mountain based on his understanding of her. An ability that Brynden Rivers, who disappeared beyond the Wall, could easily achieve.

But Brynden Rivers was an exception; he was a chosen one of the gods and possessed Targaryen royal blood. Most witches could not reach Brynden Rivers' level.

The witch's prophecies were well-known in Lannisport, but Tywin had never sought her out for a prophecy, even though he had unresolved problems in his heart.

The Duke had his own stubbornness and confidence. If he couldn't solve it himself, and praying to the Seven Gods couldn't solve it, he had already given up hope of seeking help from other witches.

The witch nodded.

The Mountain sat beside the Duke, towering over everyone else. The Mountain's imposing presence was natural and effortless.

But the Duke and the witch's auras were not inferior to the Mountain's.

"In Winterfell, I want to know if anything special has happened." These questions from the Duke were also suggested by the Mountain beforehand, to test the witch's prophetic abilities.

The Mountain's civilization was several levels higher than the Duke's. Dealing with those who absolutely believed in gods and those who were absolutely superstitious, no matter how excellent they were, would be limited by the era itself. But the Mountain could freely switch his knowledge between different civilizations.

"A little wolf was pushed off a ruined tower by a lion, breaking both legs, falling into a coma, and will never be able to stand again. This is one of the two reasons why the wolf and the lion will begin to tear at each other." The witch did not have the crystal ball that the Mountain remembered from his university days in another civilization.

The witch drank nightshade, which was black, causing her teeth to turn completely black. The Mountain also knew that in the distant East, some witches specifically drank blue 'nightshade,' which caused their lips to turn blue.

The witch's words caused Lord Kevan, Grand Maester Pycelle, Master-at-Arms Bronn, and the five centurions of the Lannister guard cavalry to change their expressions.

Did this mean that the North and the Westerlands would go to war?

Would the kingdom, which had been at peace for sixteen years, have a civil war?

No one wanted to believe this absurd prophecy.

If Lord Tywin were not here, Lord Kevan would have been unable to resist scolding the witch.

These blood witches who spread fear and intimidation should not be trusted and their heads should be chopped off.

The Mountain calmly stared at Lord Tywin. These prophecies were what he had taught the witch. Convincing his maternal grandmother, his family, to say the prophecies the Mountain wanted her to say was not difficult.

The witch could foresee many things and possessed some dark abilities, but she was not omnipotent. The more one studied the occult, the more one felt there was to know. And as a living being, the witch was fragile; she also needed good food, a comfortable life, people's respect, family's love, and a strong sense of security.

The witch wanted to verify the Mountain's prophetic abilities, blessed by the light of the Seven Gods, more than anyone else.

The will of the gods was mysterious and unpredictable. In dealing with the witch, the Mountain found it easier than dealing with ordinary people. Regarding mysterious and difficult problems, the witch did not consider illogical or extraordinary talents that suddenly emerged to be unreasonable.

The will of the gods does not need to be explained to mortals.

The Mountain found that the more people studied the occult and complex spells, the more accepting they were of inexplicable novelties and people who suddenly became exceptionally talented.

The Duke was shocked, but he remained expressionless. He looked back at the Grand Maester behind him, and Grand Maester Pycelle immediately bent down.

"Send a raven to Lord Hogo Shallot immediately."

Lord Hogo Shallot was a high-ranking nobleman from the Westerlands sent to accompany the royal family in the North.

"Yes, my lord!"

Grand Maester Pycelle left immediately.

Crakehall had ravens. The ravens came from the Citadel of Tywin Duke in Casterly Rock. Although the ravens of Crakehall were now named Crakehall, they were all raised by Grand Maester Pycelle.

Maester Hallis of Crakehall was also a student of Grand Maester Pycelle. Although he was an eye sent by the Duke to monitor the Mountain, Grand Maester Pycelle now understood that this eye was only for show. There was a 99% chance that the Mountain and the Duke did not need a monitoring eye between them.

"Witch, you said there were two reasons for the wolf and the lion to tear at each other, so what is the other reason?"

"The owner of this bottle of blood." The witch slowly took out a long, slender glass bottle from under the table.

"Who is the owner of this blood?"

The Mountain interjected: "Father, when I was in King's Landing a month ago, Littlefinger Petyr Baelish was unwilling to readily agree to my conditions for handing over the gold mines, so I took a sample of his fingertip blood and brought it back. My original intention was to have my maternal grandmother curse Petyr Baelish through the blood, but my grandmother saw some other secrets of Littlefinger through the blood."

"What secrets?"

"My grandmother didn't tell me."

Duke Tywin stared at the witch, and the witch had already closed her eyes. Her hair moved without wind, as if someone had used their hand to lift her hair that was hanging on the ground in front of her, blocking her entire face.

This change caused everyone to show different expressions.

Without any external force, the hair moved by itself!

"Witch, what has Littlefinger done to the Lannisters?" The Duke said in a deep voice.

But the witch had already let out a slight snore.

This made Master-at-Arms Bronn furious. *Clang*, his sword was drawn.

A blood witch who dared to be presumptuous in front of the Duke was simply courting death!

The Mountain said, "Father, my grandmother has already given the answer. The two reasons for the wolf and the lion to go to war are one, the lion pushed the little wolf off and broke his legs, and two, Petyr Baelish."

Duke Tywin stared at the witch and said, "Witch, if your prophecy is inaccurate, I will chop off your head."

"If it is accurate, you will pay three hundred gold dragons. Next time you want to ask for a prophecy, it will start at three hundred gold dragons. I need gold dragons to buy offerings to sacrifice to my god, otherwise, I will suffer backlash." The witch's lips did not move, but she was actually speaking.

This was mysterious, but it was difficult to suppress the anger of others.

"What nonsense are you talking about? Three hundred gold dragons for a prophecy?" The five centurions were all furious.

Bronn and Lord Kevan sternly rebuked her.

Duke Tywin reached out and shook his hand, and Lord Kevan, the centurions, and Master-at-Arms Bronn all shut up.

"Good!" Duke Tywin said, "Witch, if the prophecy comes true, I will pay you three hundred gold dragons for each question."

Kevan and the others all changed their expressions.

However, the Mountain was not surprised.

It was said that Duke Tywin was stingy, and he was indeed not generous. However, every penny Duke Tywin spent was absolutely spent wisely! For things he thought were worth it, money was definitely not a big problem.

In this way, the Duke's six hundred gold dragons went into the Mountain's hands, building the chapel and covering the expenses of the chapel, earning it all back at once, and still having too much surplus.

This was just the beginning. A very good start.

"Ser Gregor."

"Yes, Father."

"Send your men to King's Landing and bring me Littlefinger Petyr Baelish."

"Yes, Father."