So Viserys had been preparing to kill the Cold God first, then see whether it offered him an opportunity to transcend his own limits and become a being like a "god."
King Ghidorah could also take the opportunity to recover more of his strength. Then they could clear the Braavos dungeon on their own, and even if the Lord of Light stood against them, he might not be a match for them.
Besides, Braavos had taken the initiative to send the Faceless Men after the Iron Throne this time, giving him the perfect pretext. Attacking Braavos in the future would not damage his reputation.
The Maester's Tower stood on the north side of the Red Keep, separated from the main building by only a stone passageway. Pycelle's room occupied the top floor, its window facing north toward the Blackwater Rush.
Because he kept some precious medicines in his room, however, the window remained closed year-round, only occasionally being pushed open a crack for ventilation.
When Pycelle heard footsteps outside his door, he was just about to raise a cup of warm wine mixed with honey to his lips.
At the knock, he set down his cup and slowly rose. He straightened the collar of his loose maester's robes before walking over to open the door.
Several attendants stood outside, with a man wrapped in a cloak lying on the floor at their feet. A corner of clothing stained with dust and blood protruded from beneath the cloak.
"Grand Maester Pycelle, His Majesty Viserys ordered us to bring this man here for you to treat his injuries." Lyg had never met Pycelle since arriving in King's Landing, but the chain hanging around his neck made his identity clear.
Pycelle looked down at the man on the floor and frowned slightly at