Game of Thrones: I Created the Magic Web.

Chapter 78 Silver Stag

The central square was easily a thousand paces in length and width, but now one had to turn sideways to pass through the crowd, and the air seemed to be thinning. Counting the surrounding areas, there were probably hundreds of thousands of people.

The allure of a silver stag was truly immense.

The "red priestess" Melisandre looked up to her left, the countless houses becoming smaller and smaller, higher and higher. At the end of her vision, the Great Sept of Baelor stood on the highest point of Visenya's Hill.

Two or three thousand more steps and she would be there.

She tightened her red robe and continued to move slowly towards the Great Sept of Baelor.

But the edge of the central square was lined with two rows of dense gold-cloaked guards, dressed in black armor, their sharp spears pointing diagonally at the crowd in the square.

A voice in the crowd was very dissatisfied, "His Majesty has already allowed everyone to watch the ceremony, are the gold cloaks going to stop us?"

"Everyone be honest!"

An officer took off his helmet, revealing a young and unruly face.

"Where are your eyes looking! Can't you see the long table in the middle of the square? There are people there rewarding you with silver stags. Come back then. If there is empty space in front, you will naturally be let through."

Silver stags, what delicious bait.

The crowd retreated like a tide.

Before leaving, Melisandre looked back. On the back of the officer's gold cloak was a black sea monster.

Although the color was reversed, she recognized the sigil, the Greyjoys of the Iron Islands.

"So many silver stags!" people couldn't help but exclaim.

There was indeed a large long table in the center of the square, with dozens of people sitting inside holding crystal black balls in their hands, and dozens of boxes full of silver stags were placed brightly on the table.

Her gaze immediately fixed on those black balls, dragon glass, dragon glass full of power!

The black-haired officer next to him patiently persuaded again and again, "Line up, come one by one, answer a few questions from the recorder, do a few actions according to the instructions, and then everyone can get a silver stag."

The newcomers looked at the "recorder" sitting behind the long table.

These people were busy asking questions, raising black balls, and handing out silver stags, but the line did not get shorter at all, and even became longer and longer.

People quickly joined the line.

Finally, it was Melisandre's turn. She sat down on the side of the long table, lifted her hood to reveal her exquisite face, and the people nearby couldn't help but glance over here again and again.

But the young recorder draped in white cloth in front of her seemed to be blind, without any ripples.

Melisandre smelled a familiar aura. The so-called recorder must be someone's devout believer, it must be.

The recorder began to ask questions, his tone calm to the point of being somewhat deathly.

"Name? Surname?"

"Melisandre, no surname." She seemed to see the dragon glass ball flickering.

"Age?"

She curved the corners of her mouth, "Eighteen years old."

"Where were you born? Where did you grow up? Who are your family members?"

"Asshai is my hometown, I have no family."

"Occupation? Wealth? Faith?"

"My only joy is to awaken His lambs for the Lord of Light, worldly wealth is meaningless to me."

She stared intently at the recorder's eyes, still unable to see a trace of fluctuation. Wasn't he a devout believer? Why isn't he angry? Could it be that he also believes in the Lord of Light?

"Are you sure there are no omissions or errors? These records will accompany you throughout your life. Under the Iron Throne, in the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros, under the light, you are this person in the record, unchangeable."

"Everything I have said is true."

"Straighten your body, restrain your expression, don't move." The recorder raised the dragon glass ball.

In an instant, Melisandre truly felt an invisible, mysterious power. Real magic! Not the power of the Lord of Light, nor like the claws of the Others. What was that?

"Maintain your state, sit to the left of the seat."

"Sit to the right."

Melisandre knew that she had been "recorded" by the dragon glass ball. At least three pictures.

Clang clang ~

The shiny silver stag rolled on the wooden table.

"Here's your silver stag." There was finally some emotion in the recorder's voice, "God bless the world, may the light be eternal!"

She trembled almost all over, "Light...eternal."

King Joffrey believes in the Lord of Light?!

She immediately rushed to the Great Sept of Baelor, hoping to confirm this most perfect result as soon as possible.

But the gold-cloaked guards at the edge of the square were still vigilant. The only passage they left open was guarded by a knight, wearing a gorgeous suit of porcelain glaze armor, with countless flowers carved on the armor, and even the helmet was full of blooming roses.

She knew him.

The Knight of Flowers also had a dragon glass ball in his hand, and everyone who came forward had to be illuminated by the dragon glass ball. Many people were still not allowed to pass, and only a very small number were allowed to pass.

The blocked crowd was quite angry, "Why don't you let us through? What can we see here!"

An officer walked over, "What kind of talk is that? Can't you see the Great Sept?"

Everyone was confused.

"What kind of sense is this? The Great Sept of Baelor is so big, so high, who can't see it."

The officer only said, "That's enough."

The officer turned around and returned to the team, leaving the puzzled people to wonder on their own.

Someone muttered in a low voice, "I bet, it must be an idea thought up by the old men, they don't want to be with us people."

Melisandre stepped forward to try.

The Knight of Flowers glanced at her, "Take off your hood, stand still."

She silently complied.

The Knight of Flowers cast a slightly surprised look, then restrained all emotions and skillfully raised the dragon glass ball.

"Melisandre, priestess of Asshai, 18 years old, allowed to pass," he said.

She put her hood back on and walked forward, appearing very calm. But, what a magical power this was. The Knight of Flowers could know the appearance and name of countless people with just a dragon glass ball, even effortlessly.

Melisandre tried her best not to compare the vague omens of the holy fire with this power.

Boom ~

The noise behind her suddenly erupted, from far to near, like a tsunami that suddenly arrived.

She immediately turned to the central square, and together with countless people, used her eyes to call for the master of King's Landing, the king of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros, Joffrey I.

The sea of hundreds of thousands of people parted and retreated to both sides, leaving a passage at the bottom of the sea.

"Long live His Majesty!"

"God bless, His Majesty will surely be victorious in every battle!"

"Long live Baratheon!"

"I am willing to die for His Majesty King Joffrey I!!"

"......"

Amidst the endless cheers and blessings, the prince on the white horse finally appeared before her eyes, closer and closer.

He raised his right arm to greet the crowd, and a smile seemed to be on his blurred face.

In the omnipresent noise, the crowd was boiling.

Countless people stretched out their arms to him, like drowning people craving air on the surface of the water.

Bold young girls rushed into the passage, stroking the strong white horse, kissing the prince's fair hands, ankles, and boots.

The white horse came closer.

She saw him wearing red clothes and black trousers, golden armor, dark silver robes, and a sword that was frightening.

That sword was not ordinary.

So hot, so bright, full of flames and light.

Reminder: The website is about to be revised, which may cause the loss of reading progress. Please save "Bookshelf" and "Reading Record" in time (it is recommended to save screenshots). We apologize for the inconvenience!