Game of Thrones: I Created the Magic Web

Chapter 91: A Precious Gift

Joffrey was completely puzzled.

The ritual was clearly very ordinary, but suddenly, Leaf's entry into the weirwood tree was as simple and natural as a skinchanger entering an animal, like a calm breath.

His mental power also sneaked into the weirwood tree with Leaf, experiencing the plant's wonderful perception of the world.

One has to admire that the weirwood tree is indeed the best recorder of history, never adding its own opinions to the facts, much more competent than human historians and scholars.

But how exactly did she do it, freely roaming among countless weirwood trees out of thin air?

Retrospective magic can indeed change the time node of viewing history, but during the entire process of Leaf leaving the old weirwood tree and merging into the new weirwood tree, Joffrey did not feel any traces of magic.

Is it that my eyes cannot see this power? Or is the world inherently like this, a formless and insensible rule?

Hopefully, it's the former.

Joffrey knew that his eyes were still constantly growing.

During this period, the light emitted by magic energy became clearer and brighter in his eyes, and he could already see the faint patterns in the dense magic energy, distinguishing magic energy particles as fine as dust.

Perhaps one day he would be able to break through the limit, allowing himself to see more of the mysteries of the world, and even interfere with the runes themselves.

That would be true divine power.

It is also possible that the Old Gods used a very high level of power to create this law: gifted people who eat weirwood seeds can become one with all weirwood trees.

Did the Old Gods really possess this kind of power?

If it's true, how were They buried in the past? Or are They just resting?

Are the Old Gods still alive?

Joffrey didn't know, but the weirwood tree clearly couldn't give people enough security.

He made a decision. The weirwood trees in the south must continue to be restricted, and the Green Seers' abilities should only be used to bestow the Children of the Forest. Let the eyes of the weirwood trees always watch the north, watching the footsteps of the Others.

After all, winter is coming.

"To the Hand of the King, Warden of the North, Governor of the North, Duke Eddard Stark! May his journey be safe and his mission successful," Littlefinger Tyrion raised his glass high.

Beautiful music was playing in the ballroom, and pairs of dancers in the pool held each other's hands tightly, looking up at the classical murals on the dome, spinning in gorgeous circles.

"Winter is coming," the guests raised their glasses together, unanimously using the Stark family's motto as a toast.

The guests' laughter at this moment was mostly genuine.

Prime Minister Eddard had not been in office for long, but it was already enough to show his incompatibility.

This direwolf, though not as fierce as the wolves that had once gone south, was equally cold-faced, looking down on all rules that did not suit his wishes.

Fortunately, like all the direwolves that had gone south before, this one was also about to return to that frozen land.

Winter is coming, what a perfect farewell.

Eddard stood in the secluded corridor, politely greeting the crowd.

The guests contentedly shifted their gaze back to the dance floor. Prime Minister Eddard had not changed at all; he was only suitable for the North.

Eddard was unaware of what the guests were thinking. Winter is coming, he thought, that was true.

Eddard had to believe it. Having seen the Children of the Forest, having seen the supernatural power, and with the news from the North and the King's dispatch, the threat beyond the Wall was by no means false.

If the Others had not really appeared, how could the King have allowed all the Northern troops to go north?

On this point, Eddard was very satisfied with the King's decision. At least the King still remembered the needs of the North, even if it was just returning the people of the North to itself.

The Mad King Aerys never remembered this, thinking that everything should belong to him. If Rhaegar had been on the Iron Throne back then, I'm afraid there wouldn't have been so many rebellious lords, and the ending might have been different.

In a trance, Lyanna's voice rang in Eddard's ears again, Ned, promise me...

Eddard couldn't help but worry about Jon. His sister and Rhaegar's child, if Robert knew, he would probably go crazy, and even if Joffrey knew Jon's true identity, he would not be able to accept him.

Eddard really wanted to bring him back to the North, but what reason could he use?

Jon was already an officer in the City Watch of King's Landing and should fight for the King.

Eddard had thought about persuading him to quit, but every time he met Jon, that face, vaguely resembling Lyanna, was filled with a desire to make a name for himself, making him unable to speak.

Besides, winter is coming. Which is safer, the North or the Red Keep? Which is more terrifying, the Others or swords? Eddard couldn't be sure.

Eddard also thought of his Bran, Arya, and Sansa.

Sansa was already engaged to the King; she was destined to stay in the Red Keep and might never return to the North.

Bran and Arya didn't have to stay originally. But after Eddard asked for their opinions, he received an unexpected response.

Bran wanted to be a knight of the Seven Kingdoms, to wear white armor and a white robe; he refused to leave.

Arya was reluctant to leave Jon and Bran, and unwilling to return to the North to wait to be married, so she insisted on staying in the Red Keep, saying she wanted to be a female warrior like Nymeria.

Eddard did not insist; he could not shatter his children's dreams.

He was just a little worried.

How could he not be worried? Putting the children in a place like the Red Keep, without their parents by their side, only Cersei.

Eddard looked towards Empress Dowager Cersei, who was sitting on the high platform of the ballroom.

At this moment, she looked so perfect, simply the mother of the Seven Kingdoms, kind and graceful, completely different from the unreasonable madwoman in Robert's mouth.

Eddard certainly knew which side was the real her. Even more unfortunately, she was actually the Regent.

Compared to Cersei, even the willful King was more like a competent ruler.

"Lord Eddard," the King's voice came from behind.

"Your Majesty," Eddard turned and saluted.

The King walked closer kindly, "You are the protagonist tonight, why are you just standing here? Many guests are worried that you are not enjoying yourself enough."

There was not a trace of a smile on Eddard's face, "The banquet is very good, I'm just thinking about the North."

The King sighed, "It's also my fault, paying too much attention to the war in the south, failing to give the North more support. I hope this sad war ends sooner."

"Please rest assured, Your Majesty, although the North has no surplus strength, Lord Tywin, the Tully family, and the Arryn family will not stand idly by; Renly's rebellion will certainly not succeed," Eddard was not sure.

The King placed a hand on his shoulder, "Please trouble Lord Eddard more; you are good friends with Tully and Arryn."

Eddard seemed to understand the King's purpose, "Your Majesty, I will definitely do my best. I believe..."

Halfway through his words, Eddard froze. He felt something.

The King slowly withdrew his right hand from his shoulder, "Feels good, doesn't it? This is the highest level of divine grace, a farewell gift I give you."

A strange blue light curtain popped up in Eddard's vision, unwavering no matter how much he blinked and shook his head.

So this was divine grace.

The formless power within his body was constantly emerging, and he quickly realized that they would maintain the existence of the blue light curtain until the endless end.

Was that all?

The King's smile was very gentle, "Lord Eddard, take care of your health; the gods need you, the world needs you."

"Remember, light is eternal."

Eddard vaguely felt a sinking in his heart, a layer of tangible and intangible shackles.

Robert, Sansa, Bran, Arya, Jon, honor, responsibility, faith, oaths..., and the coldest divine grace.

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