Game of Thrones: I loaded the witcher system.

Chapter 21 The Three-Eyed Raven
This is the same magical power as the heart tree, and Clay is even sure that at the end of the silk thread blocked by vision, it must be connected to Winterfell, and even the largest heart tree in the entire northern border.

In the empty hall of Winterfell, little Bran rested his head on Clay's shoulder. The little boy's face was full of cute smiles, mixed with a little bit of bewilderment.

Clay's heart turned, and the magic pool was like a spool, suddenly increasing the suction. Instead of absorbing the magic thread on Bran's body, he began to pull the invisible thread that passed through the wall.

Clay wants to see what he can pull out!

In a few seconds, the silk thread was pulled straight from the loose state, and Clay obviously felt a strange pulling force. This was not told by his sense of touch, but more like it was directly reflected in his brain. .

try again!
Except for Clay, none of the people present could see these magical threads. In their eyes, only Clay liked Bran's performance very much, and none of them, including Clay, noticed that the hall with the open door suddenly flew into the air. A crow entered.

This black crow landed on the chandelier, with a pair of deep yellow eyes rolling, looking at Clay's back with an extremely humane cold gaze, and that gaze was full of hostility.

Clay's witcher senses were maxed out, and he made a gesture of patting Bran on the back, chatting with him about bringing him something Bran likes next time we meet.

But in fact, he has been pulling the magic thread that is about to break, and he seems to be able to hear the moaning sound from the magic thread.

Suddenly, Clay felt a strong smell of corruption. The reason why he said it was feeling rather than smelling it was because it was also directly filled into his brain, which made Clay instinctively uncomfortable.

And in this smell, Clay also felt a strong chill, as if standing behind him was an iceberg that would not melt for thousands of years.

"Pa..." There was an illusory breaking sound, but unfortunately no one heard it. The magic thread finally ran out of strength and was torn into two by Clay.

Like a tentacle, the end connected to the unknown part quickly retracted, while Bran's end, as the magic thread broke, the magic thread wrapped around Bran's body was like a plant's vines that lost their nutrition, and changed instantly. It dries up and withers, and finally turns into the gray of death and dissipates in the air.

Before he had time to think about this sudden change, a hoarse whisper suddenly sounded in Clay's ear:
"You won, Agent of Ability God."

A huge pulling force suddenly appeared on every part of Clay's body. Before Clay could make a move, his vision blurred and his mind was in chaos.

When he saw clearly again, the expression on Clay's face froze.

Everything in front of him told him that his body was no longer in the Great Hall of Winterfell.

"You seem to be very surprised, agent of the gods."

A pale and monotonous voice sounded from behind, and Clay suddenly came back to his senses. He saw a figure wrapped in a black robe.

"Who are you?" Clay asked in a deep voice, while raising his hand to form a seal.

A pale yellow circular shield appeared, wrapping Clay inside.

Demon Hunter's Sign - Quin!
"I'm... just a dry bone." The figure walked in and took off the hood.

The long snow-white hair hangs down, but it looks withered and twisted. He has only one eye, and the pupil is as red as blood.

Some kind of plant root was protruding from the socket of its other missing eye, and some fungus had grown on his forehead.

This face is a bit like some gods and ghosts related to nature in some myths, but Clay can feel that there is not much vitality in the body in front of him, and most of them are lingering with the breath of death.

"Yes, it's the smell of... Ability God." His unwavering voice seemed to be telling a simple fact.

Clay recalled the conversation just now. The other party called himself "agent of the gods"?
With a feeling in his heart, Clay guessed that what the other party was referring to was the ability brought by his own demon hunter system.

"You don't need to be so nervous, your body is full of magic, I have no intention and power to hurt you, Agent of Ability God."

He said that it seemed to be intentional, and he emphasized the title of "agent of the gods" again.

Clay ignored him, he finally had a chance to look at the place he was in, it didn't matter, just one glance, and Clay was shocked.

He saw... the Iron Throne!

It's not that Clay has really seen the Iron Throne in this world, but that this chair is so unique that Clay knew it was the Iron Throne the first time he saw it.

It's not so much a chair as it is a large lump of spikes, knives, and twisted metal.

The chair itself was very tall, quite high. Clay reckoned that including the uneven steps, it was about seven or eight meters high.

So, yourself in the throne room? !
Oh My God!Calculate the distance, it must be thousands of miles away, is there any faster transportation than dragon in this world?

For some reason, this sentence popped into Clay's mind.

But immediately, Clay saw something, something that should not have appeared, and it also made him understand the identity of the person in front of him.

The keel, to be precise, is a huge dragon head, but it has become a skeleton.

Clay remembered that when Robert I usurped the Targaryen throne, the decorative dragon heads had been moved beneath the Red Keep, replaced by the crowned stag tapestry symbolizing House Baratheon.

At this point in time, it is impossible for Clay to see the keel in the throne room anyway.

Therefore, Clay understood that this is not the current Throne Hall at all, but the historical one.

In other words, Clay is standing right now in history, or... someone's memory.

Seeing Clay staring at the Iron Throne and the keel, his voice appeared again:
"Agent of the Ability God, it seems that you already know where this is."

With a calm tone, he asked:

"So, would you like to sit on it?"

"..." Clay was silent, he didn't want to answer this question, although he already had the answer.

"I see boundless ambition in your body flowing with the magic power of different gods. I am very surprised why an heir to White Harbor has the desire to sit on this chair. What supports you? It is the person behind you. Are you a god?"

He didn't seem to expect Clay's answer at all, and continued with his own words.

"I brought you here to discuss with you, please don't disturb me anymore, whether it's Xinshu or that child."

Hearing this, Clay finally realized that his target was not himself at all, but Bran!

Then combined with this ability to pull people into the vortex of history, his identity is ready to be revealed.

Brynden Rivers, the illegitimate son of Targaryen, the Duke of Blood Raven, the Three-Eyed Raven!

(End of this chapter)