The Mountain of Ice and Fire

Remembering Gregor's (his own) countless sins, Gregor felt a myriad of emotions.

Before transmigrating, he was a well-behaved and studious child, upright and kind. Or perhaps 'cowardly' would be a more fitting description than 'kind'; upright and cowardly, and he also liked small animals. He wouldn't dare say he was a noble person, but one thing was certain: he was a good person.

A good person, yet powerless to deny the sins that even he himself couldn't accept. Not only could he not deny them, but he also had to bear all the consequences those sins brought. For example, two years later, at the wedding of King Joffrey, he would be pierced by the Dornish Red Viper Oberyn Martell's lance, the tip of which was coated with the Red Viper's carefully concocted venom.

Among the myriad of emotions in Gregor's heart, there was a flavor he didn't want to admit: despair.

Ah!

Gregor let out a shout.

The shout released him, making him feel a little bit better. But then it made Gregor's hair stand on end.

Although he knew it wasn't real, fear still gripped his heart, causing him to doubt whether his decision was correct.

In the TV series, his body looked great, but the torment and harm caused by the poppy milk were not properly shown.

Gregor began to struggle. His stone bed was very sturdy, and the ropes binding him were thick and numerous enough, but as Gregor exerted his strength, the stone bed began to shake, and the ropes made creaking sounds as they tightened.

Outside the door, Sweetmouth Rafford, the executioner Dunsen, and the brain-dead fan Polliver exchanged glances again. When Gregor howled like a wounded timber wolf, Sweetmouth Rafford whispered to the executioner Dunsen, "The Lord is screaming too miserably. Go in and take a look."

Sweetmouth Rafford's intention was obvious: if the Lord wanted to punish someone, Dunsen would be the one disobeying orders; if the Lord needed help, he would be the first to offer an idea.

If something happened, brother, you take the lead. If there was a reward to be gained, of course, it should belong to him.

Dunsen was brave but slower-witted than Sweetmouth. He was utterly loyal to Gregor. In Gregor's previous life's language, Gregor was his idol. His idol was screaming so miserably that the entire floor of the room was shaking. He felt really painful in his heart, wishing he could share everything for Gregor.

With Sweetmouth Rafford's hint, the executioner Dunsen immediately reached out to open the door, but his hand was held down by Gregor's number one brain-dead fan, Polliver: "Dunsen, the Lord said, no matter what happens, you can't go in."

"Just open the door and take a look. What if the Lord needs our help?" Sweetmouth Rafford said softly, like a lady.

Polliver hated Sweetmouth very much.

"Sweetmouth, the Lord's orders must not be violated by anyone."

"But the Lord is ordering us to go in now!" Sweetmouth raised an eyebrow, his eyes full of gentle smiles.

"The Lord said that only his commands when he is calm are the real commands. Now the Lord is in a rage and struggling, not when he is calm." The fact that the number one brain-dead fan Polliver followed orders one hundred percent was what Gregor was most reassured about.

Sweetmouth chuckled, "Polliver, if you kill the Lord..." Sweetmouth glanced at Dunsen, deliberately provoking him, "Okay, my swordsmanship is no match for you. I know you always think your swordsmanship is the best except for the Lord... I'll step back a little bit..."

Dunsen's bravery was second to none, and he couldn't stand anyone saying they were better than him, except for his idol Gregor. No one could show off their swordsmanship in front of him: "Polliver, get out of the way. I'm for the Lord's safety." Dunsen shouted sharply, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Indeed, inside the room, Gregor's miserable screams almost lifted the roof. He was shouting for poppy milk, he was threatening to kill everyone in the castle, he was ordering the three most loyal guys to him to quickly untie him. He was struggling desperately, and the dozens of thick ropes were groaning. His stone bed was also moved by his strength. The huge stone bed weighed two thousand pounds and made banging sounds on the ground, and the vibration was transmitted to the outside of the house through the ground.

The number one brain-dead fan Polliver's face changed, and he choked out his long sword and shouted, "Sweetmouth Rafford, executioner Dunsen, if you want to open the door and go in, you must kill me first."

In fact, both Sweetmouth Rafford and the executioner Dunsen were senior brain-dead fans of Gregor. Gregor's influence on these two scumbags was like a radiant lighthouse. However, in comparison, the number one brain-dead Polliver never doubted any of Gregor's orders. He was a single-minded person, a point, a line. Gregor's orders were everything, absolutely not to be overstepped.

"What if something happens to the Lord?" Sweetmouth Rafford said softly with a smile.

Clang!

Dunsen's sword was also immediately drawn: "Polliver, get out of the way!"

"Get out of my way, Dunsen, think clearly, what was the Lord's order to us?" Polliver said righteously, without flinching.

Inside the room, Gregor was suffering from hallucinations due to his 'addiction' to poppy milk, but his clear reason had not completely disappeared. Fortunately, he was firmly tied to the stone bed with thick ropes, otherwise, he would have been furious and killed everyone who opened the door.

As long as he didn't lose emotional control, Gregor had always been good to his subordinates.

He was very protective of his own. As long as they were his people, even if he knew they were wrong, he would definitely fight to win. His method was also very simple: whoever had the bigger fist had the reason.

And his fist was always a little bigger than his opponent's, so after so many years of fighting, Gregor was always on the side of right and justice: he was the winner.

Listening to the extremely miserable howl of his absolute idol, feeling the violent vibration of the ground, Dunsen said gloomily: "Polliver, I'm going to kill you."

"You dare to openly disobey the Lord's order, I'm going to kill you too." Polliver was exasperated. All subordinates who dared to disobey Lord Gregor's orders deserved to die, including all the guy's family and relatives, all deserved to die.

Polliver's long sword drew a stream of light, heading straight for Dunsen's chest.

The chest area is large, making it easier to hit.

And although Dunsen was very stupid (Polliver always thought so), Dunsen's swordsmanship was indeed a bit clever.

Dunsen sneered, holding his long sword horizontally in front of his chest, but he blocked nothing. Polliver's sword changed its move midway, the tip of the sword turned upward, and stabbed fiercely at Dunsen's throat.

Polliver knew that he was no match for Dunsen, so he used a trick, pretending to stab Dunsen's chest, but in fact, he wanted to stab Dunsen's throat: a fatal blow!