Prophecy

"My lord, these are the signature delicacies of our Tiger Tooth Tribe: roasted lamb heart, roasted pigeon, stewed snake meat, limes, wild grapes..."

Looking at the food laid out before him, Samwell nodded in satisfaction, raised his cup, and said, "Thanks be to the gods for this food!"

Everyone hurriedly raised their cups as well.

The wine was Plum Wine, sweet and tart, and quite pleasant.

Though the tribe's food did not look like much and was prepared rather crudely, it actually tasted quite good.

Unfortunately, Samwell still failed to find any food that increased his attribute points.

After swallowing the last piece of pigeon, Samwell picked up a napkin, wiped his mouth, and asked, "Have you heard of the Wandering Crow Tribe?"

Chiman hurriedly set down his knife and fork. "My lord, the Wandering Crow Tribe is also one of the Wildling tribes nearby."

"Where is their camp? Is it far from here?"

"My lord, that is difficult to say," Chiman explained. "The Wandering Crow Tribe has no fixed camp. They are a constantly migrating, wandering tribe. They regard crows as messengers of the gods, which is why they are called the Wandering Crows."

Samwell frowned. "Then can you find them?"

"Of course. As long as the Wandering Crow Tribe remains in these mountains and forests, they will leave traces behind. It will simply take some time to investigate their movements."

"Fine. Send people to handle it as soon as possible. Notify me once you have news."

"Yes." Chiman nodded, then asked, "My lord, may I ask why you are looking for them?"

"Have you heard of Ghost Grass?"

Chiman shook his head.

Just as Samwell was disappointed, the wizard Saru spoke up. "My lord, I have heard of it."

"Oh? Then do you know where it can be found?"

"My apologies, my lord. This grass is very rare, and it is said to possess a spirit of its own. It evades human eyes. Only the people of the Wandering Crow Tribe have a way of finding it."

Samwell nodded somewhat disappointedly.

So far, he had only found two foods that could increase attributes—Golden-Tailed Shrimp and Ghost Grass.

Golden-Tailed Shrimp could be bought, though it was expensive.

As for Ghost Grass, it seemed he could only turn to the Wandering Crow Tribe.

After the meal, Samwell did not linger and set out for Eagle's Beak.

Chiman led his tribesmen to see Samwell and his party out through the gates.

Watching Katu follow behind him like a little tail, Samwell suddenly turned back and called the wizard Saru aside.

"Saru, would you be willing to come with me to Eagle's Beak?"

"No, my lord. I appreciate your kindness, but this is my home. I was born here, and I will die here."

Samwell could not hide his surprise as he looked at the calm-faced wizard.

He had originally assumed that Saru's offering of Chika's son, Katu, had been an act of political speculation.

But now, it seemed that was not the case.

"If you stay here, you may very well die for no reason at all," Samwell could not help urging again.

By offering Katu to Samwell, Saru had effectively put a chain around Chiman's neck. Chiman would surely bear a grudge against him for it.

Chiman was no softhearted man.

A man who had killed his own father and brother would hardly hesitate to kill one more wizard.

Saru smiled faintly and replied calmly, "My lord, no one can escape death. I am no exception."

Samwell sighed, realizing that the old wizard had likely already resolved to die.

Perhaps he felt guilty over the old chieftain's death and wished to atone with his life.

Samwell still felt it would be a pity for the old wizard before him to die like this.

After pondering for a moment, he said, "How about this? Though I have exempted Tiger Tooth Village from taxes for three months, it will still need a tax officer eventually. Saru, would you be willing to take that post?"

Saru froze for a moment. Of course, he knew this was a talisman Samwell was leaving him. With this position, if Chiman truly dared to kill him, it would be a grave challenge to the lord's authority.

Yet Saru did not immediately accept the kindness. Instead, he frowned.

Seeing this, Samwell urged him again. "Even for the sake of this village, you should stay alive. I do not feel at ease leaving this place to Chiman alone."

Only then did Saru nod. "Very well, my lord. Since that is the case, I shall serve you."

"That's more like it!" Samwell laughed heartily. "Do not speak so lightly of death. This world is vast and wonderful. I still want to lead you all out to see it."

"The world outside does not belong to us..."

"Who says so?" Samwell interrupted. "You are also descendants of the First Men and the Andals. Are you born inferior to the Reachmen? You lack neither wisdom nor courage. What you lack is someone capable of uniting all the Wildlings."

Saru raised his head and saw undisguised ambition in the young knight's eyes.

Unite all the Wildlings?

At that moment, Saru suddenly remembered something.

His aged, weary heart seemed to surge back to life, pounding violently.

"You are right." Saru stared at Samwell with blazing eyes. "The hundreds of thousands of Wildlings in the Red Mountains need a hero! They have waited for one for thousands of years!

"I once heard the gods' revelation in the winds of the mountains. They said that after the Long Summer, darkness would descend, and a great king would be born from fire. He would be the light in the Long Night, the savior of the world, a messenger who carried out the will of the gods!"

What the hell?

Samwell was startled by the fervent gleam in the old wizard's eyes.

A casual edgy remark from him had somehow ignited this old charlatan's fanaticism.

But in the next instant, he noticed that the "revelation of the gods" the old charlatan spoke of bore an astonishing resemblance to the prophecy of Azor Ahai reborn that Melisandre, the Lord of Light's priestess and the "Red Woman" from the show, believed in.

They both contained such key elements as the end of the Long Summer, darkness, fire, and light. Both were, at their core, tales of a hero saving the world.

Was it a coincidence?

Or... were all the gods revealing the same prophecy to their followers?

At that moment, Samwell suddenly had an idea.

Why not make use of this prophecy?

In this world, the simplest way to gain powerful influence was to possess noble blood.

Unfortunately, that was precisely what Samwell lacked.

House Tarly was clearly not an ancient and noble bloodline, and he had now changed his surname to Caesar.

The Westerosi had never even heard of that name.

Therefore, if Samwell wanted greater influence and more supporters in this Game of Thrones, he had to choose another path—

Faith.

The power of faith was terrifying.

Though the Faith Militant had become history, it had once gathered countless followers in the name of faith and had even nearly overturned the rule of House Targaryen.

Thinking back to those who played A Game of Thrones in ancient Huaxia, which of them had not concocted some trick or another?

Slaying a white serpent, dreaming of the sun entering one's womb, a room filled with red light, seven stars beneath one's feet, four nipples on one's chest...

Samwell felt he could come up with a few auspicious signs of his own.

Wasn't it just nonsense like the "Land of Smoke and Salt" and a "burning red sword"? He could make up stories to match them.

While he was weak, such stories would naturally be useless, and few would believe them. But once he possessed sufficient strength, this prophecy would become an amplifier for his reputation, convincing more people that he was the gods' messenger and making them willingly submit at his feet.

Perhaps even that "Red Woman" would mistake him for the prince from the prophecy.

After all, it was not as though she had never chosen the wrong one before...

With that thought, Samwell no longer avoided the old wizard's burning gaze. Smiling, he said, "Saru, would you like to hear a story from my childhood?"

"Of course. It would be my honor!"