Godfather

The battle for Dragonstone continues.

As time went by, the shouts of killing inside and outside the castle not only did not weaken at all, but actually became more and more intense.

Corleone, Gendry, and the knight who calls himself "Eron" are walking through a secluded inner castle passage.

Eron Knight is in bad shape.

Although the wound on his thigh was hastily bandaged with a torn off cloak, dark red blood still seeped out with every step he took.

Corleone walked half a step behind and saw that his face was pale and he was holding the sword that was already full of gaps in his hand. He was almost relying on his tenacious willpower to push his body forward.

He shook his head, it was over.

Judging from Corleone's superb surgical experience, this man suffered at least several fatal injuries. The fact that he was able to walk such a long distance and still talk is enough to be called a medical miracle.

Gendry followed him, still holding on to the uncomfortable Longsword.

His thoughts were confused, still stuck on the brief bloody killing in the corridor just now. Corleone's superb swordsmanship shocked him.

During the intermittent conversation between Corleone and Eron Ser, he knew that she was the daughter of King Stannis, a real princess.

Protecting the princess... This thought was a bit heavy, making him hold the sword harder, as if the name gave him some attribute that was not a blacksmith's apprentice.

"Ahead... turn left..." Eron Ser gasped, his voice hoarse. "The one at the end..."

.. Ahem!"

His words were interrupted by a violent cough, and his body swayed.

Corleone reached out to hold his arm. The tentacles were cold and clammy. You didn't need to think about it to know how much blood this guy had lost.

"Save your strength, knight, and just show the way." His voice was calm, and no concern could be heard.

Following the direction pointed by Eron Ser, they entered a small courtyard. Several unknown statues were pushed to the ground and fell to pieces, as if it was some ominous omen.

In the center of the courtyard, there was a pool of blackened blood, with several helmets of different styles scattered beside it. It was obvious that the battle between the offensive and defensive sides had affected this place, but then quickly moved away.

At the other end, the door of the cabin at the end is closed.

Eron Knight's eyes lit up, he broke away from Corleone's support, staggered to the door, and rapped hastily with the hilt of his sword. "Miss Shirin!"

"It's me, your Uncle Eron! Open the door quickly!"

There was no sound inside the door.

The knight knocked a few more times, with a hint of panic in his voice. "Miss Shireen, open the door quickly, quickly!"

He kept patting, but there was still no movement in the room.

Behind him, Gendry's heart was a little lifted.

Is it too late?

However, Corleone leaned over slightly and carefully looked at the door in front of him, and saw that there was no sign that it had been pried open at all.

He approached the door and sniffed lightly with the tip of his nose. The smell of blood was limited to the outside, not inside the room. There was just a faint bitter medicinal smell wafting out from the crack in the door.

"Back off." Corleone said coldly.

The knight was stunned for a moment, then realized something and hurriedly took two steps back.

Corleone turned sideways, without any hesitation, and suddenly kicked the door panel.

The old wooden door let out an overwhelmed groan, and the door instantly broke and bounced inwards.

The two entered first.

There were no lights in the house, only the dim light from the torches in the courtyard came in through a narrow, high-positioned window, barely outlining the interior.

This is a very simply furnished room.

A narrow wooden bed was placed against the wall, covered with starched coarse cloth sheets.

A small wooden table with crooked legs, two stools, and a low wardrobe.

The walls are bare without any decoration, and the gray of the stone wall itself is the main color. For a "princess" of the Baratheon family, such living conditions are considered simple.

However, in subtle contrast to this simplicity, there are several rolls of rough parchment neatly placed on the small table in the corner. There seems to be crooked writing on the parchment, and there is also a thick, badly worn book next to it.

The air was filled with a strong, peculiar smell of herbs and sulfur, which was exactly the source of the medicinal smell that Corleone caught outside the door.

But these are not the most eye-catching.

The most eye-catching things are the two things leaning on the wall next to the bed.

A stag-antler helmet made of fine steel, the stag's antlers spread out to both sides, giving off a cold, hard sheen of metal even in the dim light.

There is also an amazingly sized pair of hands called Warhammer, which looks to weigh at least thirty or forty pounds.

This is completely the equipment of Warrior, and it is incompatible with the little girl's residence.

However, the house was still empty.

"Miss Shireen?"

Eron Knight's voice trembled, and he dragged his seriously injured body into the house eagerly. His eyes scanned every corner in panic, but he still found no sign of the little girl.

Perhaps due to excessive blood loss, his mind began to become blurry, coupled with self-blame and despair, he suddenly fell to his knees weakly on the ground, muttering to himself, "No... it won't happen. I told her that she would stay here and wait for me no matter what...

1

At this time, Gendry from outside the door also walked in. As soon as he entered, his eyes were immediately attracted by the antlered helmet and Warhammer.

Somehow, he walked over unconsciously, stretched out his hand, and lightly brushed the cold metal antlers with his fingertips.

An indescribable feeling rose up from the back of his spine, as if something he had never known was sleeping in the cold metal, and the liquid in his blood vessels began to boil.

He looked at the Warhammer again. This artifact belonging to the blacksmith's field made him feel a little warm. He bent down and held the hammer handle and tried to weigh it.

It was very heavy, much heavier than an ordinary tool hammer, but he felt that he was not unable to control it.

Corleone stood at the door, not searching as eagerly as Eron, but slowly scanning the entire room.

The observation ability given by [Insight Iv3] allows him to capture some things that ordinary people cannot discover.

On the table are the tools for learning to write, the strange-looking armor and the hammer.

Finally, his eyes fell on the narrow bed.

Near the inner edge of the bed sheet, it seemed like something was clinging to the bed board, slightly tugging on the fabric.

At this time Eron Ser was about to collapse. He knelt down on one knee and whispered towards the empty room, full of self-blame. "I was wrong, I was really wrong, I shouldn't have left Mason's Tower too far... I should have passed earlier...

Corleone raised his hand to stop his meaningless regret.

Then, he took two steps forward, stopped in front of the bed, and said softly, "Come out, Miss Shirin."

Hearing this, Eron Ser suddenly raised his head, looked at Corleone in disbelief, and then looked at the bottom of the bed.

Gendry also stopped stroking Warhammer and looked over nervously.

But there was still no movement under the bed. Corleone shook his head helplessly and continued, "Don't worry, we don't mean any harm."

"There is a knight named Eron here. He is trying his best to take you away. If you don't say anything, I will have to ask the young and strong young man behind me to turn over the bed."

"That might scare you, make unnecessary noise, and attract the wrong people, don't you think?"

There was silence in the room for a few seconds.

Soon, there was a rustling sound under the bed.

Under the gaze of the three people, a small head stuck out.

It's a girl, she looks no more than ten years old.

Her face is small, her chin is pointed, and her eyes look large in the dim light, full of vigilance.

But the most eye-catching thing is that her exposed neck, one cheek, and the back of her hands are all covered with large dark patches as rough as rocks.

This made her originally delicate appearance look a little uncomfortable.

However, when she raised her head, her eyes passed over Corleone and Gendry, and finally landed on Eron, who was covered in blood and kneeling on one knee, her big eyes immediately burst into surprise.

"Eron Uncle!" she shouted, completely forgetting her fear, and stumbled toward the knight.

"Miss... you're okay... that's great!"

Eron Ser was immediately overjoyed and hugged Shirin tightly.

The little girl's warm body seemed to transfer a little of the heat of life, and a trace of color returned to the knight's face.

But Corleone can tell that it must be a return of light.

"Your face... you're bleeding a lot!"

Shireen wanted to touch the knight's face with her hand, but was afraid of hurting him. Her little hand hung in the air, tears welling up in her eyes.

"A little injury, it doesn't matter."

Eron forced out a smile, trying to lighten his expression, but the twisted muscles only made the smile look more bitter and tired.

"These two... are my friends."

"They helped me kill the rebels so we could get here."

He looked at Corleone and Gendry with complicated eyes.

Although it is impossible to determine whether these two people are enemies or friends, at this moment, they are the only hope for him and Shirin.

Hearing this, Shireen turned her head and looked at Corleone and Gendry carefully.

She felt a little afraid of Corleone's calm and somewhat indifferent gaze, and shrank her neck.

But when he saw Gendry, a young man with a strong build and a dazed and honest look on his face, the tension eased a little.

Especially when she saw the Warhammer held in Gendry's hand, she was stunned for a moment.

"That's... my hammer."

She pointed to Gendry's hand and whispered, with a hint of childish pride, "And the helmet."

"I begged my father for a long time before someone made me a set according to the drawings in the book."

"But my father said, Baratheon's courage does not lie in the armor, but in the heart."

Speaking of this, the little girl's emotions gradually calmed down, and she seemed to gain a sense of security only by repeating her father's teachings.

Hearing this, Gendry felt that the Warhammer in his hand was a little hot. He quickly put it back to the wall and rubbed his hands awkwardly. "Yes... I'm sorry, I just think it is..."

Having not read many books, he is a bit arrogant and can't find the right words to describe it.

Kind? Heavy?

There seems to be some.

"Do you like them?"

Shireen asked, with a hint of innocence in her voice.

In this night full of killings, it seems that only talking about her beloved "toy" can make her temporarily forget her fear.

"I... I'm just an apprentice blacksmith."

Gendry answered honestly, "At least in the past, I have broken farm tools and repaired armor, but I have never seen anything like this... such..."

As he talked, he ran out of words again.

"This is made according to the pattern of Robert's Hammer".

Shireen did not laugh at his embarrassment, but patiently explained, "That's what the book says, and this is what Uncle Robert used when he was young."

"The book also says that the great King Robert Baratheon used such a Warhammer to defeat the powerful Rhaegar Targaryen at the side of Trident, and then won the Iron Throne."

When she talks about these bloody past events, her tone is like telling a distant heroic story. Children often have difficulty understanding the cruel reality in the adult world. No, not just children, even many ordinary people who have not experienced war cannot understand it.

All they knew was that Robert had won and Rhaegar had lost.

But no one understood that when Robert swung his hammer, Rhaegar's breastplate and all his ribs were shattered.

No one remembers that when King's Landing was destroyed, Rhaegar's wife and children all became victims of the failed war.

King Robert...Trident...Warhammer...

Gendry stood there, these words hitting his ignorant heart, as if some vague blood connection caused him to feel an inexplicable throb when he heard this story, and it seemed that he had found a vague direction in his life.

He stood blankly and looked at the Antlered Helm, and then at Shireen, who might be his blood cousin. An unprecedented confusion overwhelmed Gendry.

Eron Knight was keenly aware of Gendry's strangeness, but he didn't have much time.

He could feel his body temperature being lost along with his blood, and his consciousness gradually began to blur.

Taking a deep breath, this action affected the wound, causing a sharp pain, but it also cheered him up.

Eron knows very well that he must make good use of this last time.

"Ser." He looked at Corleone and accidentally used this official title for the knight.

Although the other party had previously claimed that they were "Davos' men", Eron could conclude as early as when Corleone showed off his sword skills that this person was anything but that simple.

He looked at Corleone seriously and said in a deep voice, "I don't know your name yet... your real name."

Corleone looked at him and were silent for two seconds.

His unique powers of observation could reveal that the knight's eyes were rapidly losing their luster, but the meaning of persistence was extremely clear.

"Corleone." He replied calmly, "Vito·Corleone."

"Corleone..." Eron Ser repeated it. This name was completely unfamiliar to him.

But then, he suddenly laughed in a low voice, his laughter was hoarse and intermittent, with some blood foam. "Haha...

I knew it... I knew it!!!"

"You are the guy who killed Axell with one sword. The Seven Gods, the knights on the island were going crazy during the day, and everyone was talking about you!"

"Without armor or weapons, Axell was eliminated in three seconds!"

"That guy brags about how powerful his sword skills are every day... hahaha"

His words gradually became coherent, not like a wounded person at all, as if at the end of his life, even the Seven Gods gave this dying man a chance to speak.

"If I remember correctly, that guy seems to be your uncle." Corleone raised his eyebrows.

"Bah!" Hearing this, Eron Ser spat and said disdainfully, "The guy who believes in the bullshit King of Light does not deserve the surname Florent!"

"If it weren't for Sister Celis and little Xilin, I would have...

When he said this, he suddenly paused, as if he remembered something.

Raising his head again, Eron's expression became extremely serious. He squeezed Shirin's hand tightly, but his eyes were firmly locked on Corleone, and he said calmly, "As you can see, Ser Corleone, I am about to die."

"I am a knight, and I swear allegiance to King Stannis Baratheon and defend him and his bloodline with my life."

"I did everything I could... and now, this is my last request."

He turned his neck with difficulty and looked at Shirin, who was holding his hand tightly with tears streaming down her face. There was endless tenderness and reluctance in her eyes, just like a father looking at his daughter.

In other words, for Eron, who has no children, he has long regarded this niece as his biological daughter.

"Miss Shireen... she is a rare light in this dark world."

"She is kind and smart. Even though she suffered from illness and loneliness, she never lost her yearning for beauty."

"Stannis Your Majesty... loved her dearly, I firmly believe that, but he has gone astray."

Speaking of this, Eron's eyes began to dim and his voice became lower. "Before I came, I heard that Red Woman bewitching Your Majesty. She said... that she would sacrifice the king's blood at the decisive moment in order to win the war...

Hearing this, Shireen's body trembled violently, perhaps because of the terrible implications in the knight's words, or perhaps because she felt that the big hands holding her were rapidly losing strength and becoming limp.

Corleone's calm eyes remained unchanged, but seemed a bit colder.

Theocratic belief has given birth to the most dehumanizing monster, although in this world, that god may really exist.

"Your Majesty... Still hesitating, he loves Shireen, but that woman, and her visions of fire...

Eron's speech speed is getting faster and faster, but his breath is getting weaker and weaker. It is obvious that he has begun to be unable to hold up and is a little intermittent. "The castle is about to fall. Your Majesty... I don't know if he is safe."

"But it is no longer safe for Miss Shirin here. Red Woman If she knew that Miss Shireen was still here, she would not let go of this opportunity... to complete her ritual"..."

Speaking of this, Eron tried his best to push Shirin's hand gently in the direction of Corleone.

This movement exhausted his remaining life force, and his body began to fall backwards.

"Take her away...Corleone, no matter which side you are from, please take her away from Dragonstone Island, out of the sight of that woman, and protect her...

His eyes had begun to blur, but he still looked at Corleone stubbornly. "For the sake of protecting you before, please..."

After spitting out the last syllable, the light in the Dragonstone Knight's eyes was completely extinguished.

He leaned against the cold stone wall, maintaining a half-kneeling posture, as if he was still protecting his most important thing, but his life had already left him.

The Longsword, which accompanied him in the fight to the end, slipped from his loosened hand and fell on the stone slab with a clang.

"Eron Uncle! Eron Uncle!"

Shireen threw herself on the knight's increasingly cold body and cried bitterly.

Perhaps in this cold world, this knight Uncle, who had no children but regarded her as his own, was one of her few sources of warmth.

Now, this warmth has also gone out.

Corleone watched this scene silently.

The knight's blood slowly spread on the ground and mixed with the dust.

The little girl's broken cries echoed in the simple stone house, and the distant sounds of fighting outside the window were still there.

He remembered the knight desperately blocking the Redwyne soldiers in the corridor, yelling at him and Gendry to leave.

This is a true knight who keeps his oath until death.

For the sake of you fighting to the death to protect me...

Corleone sighed secretly in his heart.

In King's Landing, Exchange of Interests is the norm, but this kind of protection purely practiced with life, even if the person being protected is not him, is still worthy of respect.

He stepped forward, instead of reaching for Xilin, he squatted down so that he was at eye level with the crying girl.

"Shireen·Baratheon."

Corleone's voice was not loud and did not stop the little girl from crying. She just called softly.

Shirin raised her head and looked at the stranger in front of her with tears in her eyes. This Eron Uncle stranger entrusted herself to him.

His eyes are very deep and black.

There seemed to be no emotion in it, the emotions she had seen in the eyes of others in the past.

Fear, alienation, pity, disgust, nothing, completely crystal clear black.

"Your knight fulfilled his duty and bought you time with his life."

Corleone continued to speak, not to comfort, but to state the facts. "But now, time is still passing, and we have no extra free time to be sad. Redwin's people, or... those people, may find here at any time."

Hearing this, Shirin's crying gradually stopped, and there was a trace of confusion and fear in her eyes.

"I'll give you two choices now."

Without giving her much time, Corleone stretched out two fingers and gave her own advice in a concise movement. "First, I will take you to your father, King Stannis Baratheon."

"But the premise is that we know where he is and can find him safely through the castles and battlefields full of enemy troops. At the same time, we also need to face the Red Woman next to him who may be planning to use your blood in exchange for victory."

"Second."

Corleone took back a finger. "Follow me and call me...Godfather."

This word made Shireen and Gendry beside her stunned for a moment.

There is no such title as "Godfather" in Westeros, only "Godfather" or "Godmother".

They mainly serve as witnesses and guarantors on the baby's naming day or baptism ceremony. They swear an oath to the seven gods on behalf of the child and promise to ensure that the child receives correct faith education.

"If you choose the latter," Corleone ignored their surprise and continued, "Here, with the passing knight and his honor as witness, I will treat you as my own son."

"My sword will be wielded for you, my wisdom will be used by you, and I will protect your safety. Not only will I take you away from Dragonstone, but I will also ensure that no one else who wants to harm you can touch you."

"Until you grow up, or until you decide you no longer need this protection."

He paused, his eyes fell on Shirin's face like a real person, and solemnly promised, "As Godfather, it is my responsibility to guide you to understand the true face of this world, whether it is beautiful or cruel."

"You need to learn, you need to grow, and you have to understand that your surname brings not only glory, but also responsibility and danger."

"And you also need to give me, your Godfather, unconditional trust and respect."

As soon as he finished speaking, it was extremely quiet inside the stone house, except for the noise from the distance.

Knight Eron rested silently against the wall, seeming to be listening silently.

Gendry held his breath and watched this strange scene.

He didn't quite understand the full meaning of "Godfather", but he could feel the coveted seriousness and power in Corleone's words.

Shirin looked at Corleone, her big eyes still sparkling with tears.

She is less than ten years old, but she grew up in loneliness and illness. She is far more mature than her peers and is more perceptive.

She could feel that the person in front of her was different from Eron Uncle, different from her father, and different from Davos Ser.

He is not as tender as Uncle, not as strict as his father, and not as simple as the Onion Knight.

He is cold, like the obsidian of Dragonstone.

But he was also frank. In his eyes, Shirin could not see any deception or evasion.

His promise may be a little unkind, but it sounds more reliable than any gorgeous oath.

Suddenly, Shirin remembered Eron Uncle's last words.

"Take her away... protect her...

She thought of her father again.

She knew that her father loved her, but Shireen knew that since the defeat at the Blackwater River, her father's eyes were increasingly filled with flames, and he seemed more and more anxious and stern.

Sometimes, when he looked at the gray scales on his hands, he would reveal a complex emotion that frightened her.

And that Red Woman, Shirin didn't have many chances to see her. Every time that woman looked at her, the look in her eyes would always send chills down her back, as if she was looking at a vulgar object that could be sacrificed at any time.

A child less than thirty years old was forced to make a life-or-death choice between the protection of his loved ones and the protection of strangers.

Game of Thrones ran over a weak individual, that kind of unbearable weight, but at this moment, it was extremely real and pressing on Shirin's thin shoulders.

Time seems to have become very long.

Finally, Shirin wiped the tears on her face hard, and the gray scales rubbed against her skin, causing a slight sting.

She stood up straighter, and although her body was still shaking slightly, she still forced herself to look directly into Corleone's deep eyes.

With a plop, he knelt down on one knee. "In the name of the Seven Gods, and in the name of my father Stannis Baratheon, please give me guidance and protection."

..Godfather!"

The childish voice echoed in the stone house.

This is a new barrier chosen by a child in a desperate situation.

Corleone looked at the girl kneeling in front of him, looking at the forced strength and fear in her eyes. There was no fluctuation on his face, and he still had that inherent calmness.

But he slowly stretched out his hand, not to help her, but to gently place his palm on her gray-scaled head.

This action is very dangerous, and there is a high chance of being infected with greyscale, but Corleone did not hesitate at all.

"I, Corleone, accept you, Shireen Baratheon, as my Goddaughter."

"From this moment on, your safety is my responsibility, and your enemies are my enemies."

"With the deceased as a witness, this promise will last until the end of one of the parties' lives."

There are no complicated rituals or blessings from the seven monks.

On this night torn by war, in a hut filled with the smell of death and herbs, a strange relationship that transcended traditional boundaries was concluded.

Corleone took back his hand. "Get up, Shirin."

Xilin stood up and walked to Corleone. She felt something was different.

A feeling called "security" seemed to envelope her, which was very strange.

Corleone glanced at the body of knight Eron and stayed for a moment.

Then, he turned to Gendry's strong body and square face, and glanced at the set of Antlered Helm and Warhammer on the wall.

Suddenly, a bold idea flashed through his mind.

"Gendry."

"Oh, ah?"

The sudden call made Gendry stunned for a moment.

He looked at Corleone, and then looked at Shirin beside him. He suddenly understood and immediately knelt down on one knee. "Do I want it too? Well, teach...

"That's not what I meant."

Corleone rolled his eyes at him, raised his hand and pointed to the opposite side. "Go put on that helmet and pick up the hammer."