Walter. Hean was silent. The dim candlelight cast swaying shadows on his face full of grooves. He seemed to be looking for a suitable word, a word that could carry the intangible value of His Majesty the True Dragon in his mouth.
After a long time, he said dryly, "The royal flag is raised high, and thousands of people respond."
The smile on Suleiman's face did not change at all, but there was an almost invisible sarcasm on his face. "In that case, why doesn't the real dragon kiss Westeros back and hold high his royal flag?"
His voice was very soft, but like a sharp sword, it cut through the gorgeous but empty appearance of the old man's words.
Walter. Hean was choked to the point of speechlessness. He felt that he could not communicate with this young man at all. What he wanted to talk about was orthodoxy, bloodline, and glory, but what the other party cared about was reality, interests, and feasibility.
Suleiman gently placed the wine glass in his hand on the table and made a crisp sound, "How many Gold Dragons does this exiled Majesty have?"
This question is like a slap in the face, hitting Walter. Hean's old dignity.
He straightened his slightly stooped back, with a hint of offended trembling in his voice. "His flowing blood is of infinite value Gold Dragon."
Suleiman's tone was full of playfulness. "Really?"
"But how did I hear that His Majesty even sold his mother's crown?"
The last trace of dignity was torn to pieces.
Walter. Hean stood up suddenly, and the chair scraped the ground backwards, making a harsh noise. He felt that every breath of air he wasted in this tent was a blasphemy against his grand goal.
He stared at Suleiman coldly, his turbid eyes burning with disappointed anger. "Prominence is almost in front of you!!"
"I thought you were someone I could work with, a smart person who could see the current situation clearly."
The old man shook his head, full of disdain.
"Disappointing!"
He said no more, turned around and opened the tent door. There was no possibility of collusion with a mediocre person who could only see what was in front of him.
Suleiman's voice came from behind him, unhurriedly. "Wait."
Walter. Hean's footsteps paused, but he did not look back, because he was willing to bear all the sins just to arouse this young man's interest and to atone for the crimes he committed in False Spring.
Suleiman's voice contained a hint of aroused curiosity. "This is interesting."
"My lord, what do you mean by the prominence that is almost before your eyes?"
Walter. Hean slowly turned around, the dim light making the expression on his face look particularly gloomy.
He spoke carefully and in a very low voice, "What you are doing now is tantamount to snatching food from a tiger's mouth."
"As long as Hoster. Tully is alive, the chances of Lymond. Lychester are slim."
Walter. Hean took a step forward, approaching Suleiman.
"And you, as the despicable conspirator behind him, will definitely die!"
"Perhaps, Hoster. Tully will show mercy to House Lychester, kill Lymond. Lychester, and find someone else to inherit and continue House Lychester."
He took another step closer, his breath almost blowing on Suleiman's face.
"But to you? To your humble little family?"
The old man sneered.
"The annihilation of the race! The end is just around the corner!"
Suleiman remained silent, his fingers caressing the cold wine glass unconsciously. The old man was right about this. If Hoster. Tully doesn't die, or if he doesn't die fast enough, he will die.
If intimidation fails, his second plan is to send dead soldiers, disguised as the captured Ironborn, and try to kill Hoster. Tully while Riverrun is in chaos. No matter how obvious or clumsy it is, Hoster. Tully must die.
Walter. Hean looked at Suleiman's changing expression and thought that his words had hit the mark. In his opinion, Suleiman had no choice but to Being able to cooperate with him is why he dared to say Targaryen's last name so bluntly in front of an untrustworthy person, but in fact Suleiman was just thinking about what the other party's purpose was.
The old man leaned down and said in a voice that only two people could hear, "But what I give you now is a road to true prominence."
Suleiman raised his eyes and looked at him quietly. The other person seemed to be very sure of what he was going to do.
Walter. Hean's eyes flashed with fanatical light, and he opened his arms as if to embrace an invisible future. "Become the kingmaker!"
His voice suddenly rose in pitch, full of bewitching power.
"Now! Riverlands's royal party Lords is here! Ten thousand people have gathered! And Usurper's army!
The day is coming!"
He stared at Suleiman and shouted word by word, "Prominent! Isn't it right in front of you?!"
Suleiman I thought the other party would have some shocking words, but I didn't expect him to be so naive.
He frowned and leaned back on the chair, trying to put some distance between himself and the old idiot. "Master Walter, do you think that Riverlords of the Riverlands, an army of thousands of people with discord, can fight against the king's army of Robert Baratheon?"
This is simply the gibberish of a child. He was once the royal party of Targaryen, but it does not mean that he will not be the royal party of Baratheon now.
Hearing these words, Walter. Hean had a strange smile on his face; "Of course not."
He admitted frankly and his smile became even more serious.
"However, I have heard of House Grell's deeds."
His gaze seemed to penetrate Suleiman, as if he saw the bloody killing of Grell Castle.
"In Grell Castle, didn't you and your knights perfectly serve as executioners?"
Suleiman's pupils shrank slightly, he knew what the other party wanted to do.
"For the sake of true honor, and for the return of the true dragon Iron Throne, so what if you betray the gods!"
Walter. Hean's eyes burst out with a terrifying look, and his old and withered body seemed to be injected with infinite vitality in an instant, becoming full of energy.
He stretched out a finger and pointed directly to the north and then to the direction.
"I want to warmly entertain that Usurper! and the traitors under his command at Harrenhal!!!"
Harrenhal, that cursed giant city seemed to exude a strong bloody aura the moment he said it.
"And you! Suleiman!"
His voice was full of confusion.
"You are going to encourage Lymond. Lychester! Let him lead the Riverlands army! When Usurper is attending the banquet!
Attack the royal army!"
"Cut off the head of the false king!"
"Then! We welcome the true king! Return to Westeros!"
His voice became louder and louder, almost roaring.
"Three-Headed Dragon Banner, who hold high Targaryen! Then! Seven Kingdoms loyal kings will surely respond!"
He grabbed Suleiman's shoulders fiercely, his skinny fingers as strong as iron pliers.
"At that time! Your family! Are you still afraid of not being prominent?"
"Your family will become one of the most noble families in Westeros! Your descendants will always be bathed in the grace of House Targaryen! Until the end of the world! Darkness falls!"
There was deathly silence in the tent, with only the heavy breathing of Walter. Hean, and the crazy flame in his eyes that had not yet been extinguished.
Suleiman Without saying a word, he slowly broke away from the old man's hand and poured himself another glass of wine. The bright red wine swayed in the glass like flowing blood. He raised the glass to his lips and drank it down.
A madman, a complete, hopeless, true madman.
Suleiman gave the evaluation calmly in his heart. However, this may be the so-called instigator. There is nothing wrong with it. He instigated House Grell to set a precedent for massacring guests and used the most despicable means to obtain huge profits. However, Seven did not come down with thunder. Even the evaluations of the world were mixed.
Then, the power of role models appears, so if he can do it, why can't I?
Since House Grell can massacre guests in the name of safeguarding Riverlands's peace, then why can't the next one launch another massacre on a larger scale in the name of loyalty to the true monarch?
Hongmen Banquet, if it happens once, there will be a second time and a third time. This is the so-called era of great strife.
Suleiman thought silently, it seems that he will have to attend less banquets like this in the future. At least, he must not easily walk into the hall of any castle without being fully prepared.
He put down the wine glass and began to calmly dismantle this crazy plan in his mind.
I have to admit that this plan... is extremely feasible and even... attractive.
But based on his historical experience in the mysterious East, since ancient times, the first person to start a world of great chaos usually ends badly. The so-called mantis stalks the cicada before the oriole follows, and becomes a footnote and a foundation for others to step on to get the upper hand.
Once he takes action, he will die miserably, and he will immediately become the target of public criticism, and it is almost foreseeable that he will become an enemy.
Honnō-ji Incident, Robert, Baratheon, who can be called replicas, are the Oda Nobunaga who is about to reach the peak of power, and he will play the role of Akechi Mitsuhide who launched the rebellion. Even the ones he supports are puppets with no real power. It is simply like him.
But this person in this world only enjoyed "the world for three days" after the deed was accomplished.
Suleiman's eyes fell on the crazy old man in front of him.
Who is behind him?