Chapter 432
Archmaester Perestan comforted Lord Commander and said: "Actually, you don't have to worry about the lack of Maester, the Dragon Queen's temper can easily let go of Citadel.
Within half a year, there will be a large number of Archmaester, Maester were exiled to the Wall. If you are interested, you can even build a small Citadel in Castle Black, I will be Seneschal, hahaha..."
In the end, the old red nose Archmaester actually laughed smugly.
Jon stared oddly at the red-nosed old Archmaester for a moment, lips twitching, but nothing came out.
"Then... you continue to ask the lord for help, tell them Long Night nears, come and help Wall as soon as possible."
Jon emphasized in a complicated tone: "We need Knight, rent it. There are too many Wildlings, and an honorable and capable Knight is needed to manage them."
Old Archmaester shook his head and cursed: "The nobles have no honor, they are all asking about the 50Golden Dragon. They said, if Wall immediately fulfilled his promise, a Night's Watch 50Golden Dragon, you can send as many Night's Watch as you want.
Damn, they treat the glorious Night's Watch as a slave dealer. If it's a business slave, a slave Warrior is not worth 50 Silver Stags."
"50Golden Dragon is a reward given by Dragon Queen to Night's Watch men after Long Night, and nobles are not qualified to possess." Jon frowned.
The old man spread his hands and said helplessly: "I said the same, and then they called me a fake Perestan.
Speaking of this, I have to defend Citadel, I We suck for violating guest rights with those Archmaesters.
But at any time, Maester's morals are much higher than nobles.
It sucks now because Seven Kingdoms noble rites and music destroyed, ten times worse than us, lowering the lower limit of Maester."
Jon glared at the sophisticated red-nosed old Archmaester and said: "Wait for Sam to bring Others Go south and the nobles will change their minds. Hope the Citadel is as you said, the bottom line is higher than the Knights."
Leaving the Crow's Nest, Jon sees Melisandre in the courtyard again.
She seemed to have foreseen that he was going to find her and was waiting there.
Jon moved slowly, walked over without hesitation, and asked, "Can you make sure Others lose their ability to resurrect the dead and don't melt?"
"Maybe. ." Red Woman said.
"Maybe?" Jon was dissatisfied with the answer.
"I've never met Others before, and Little Others is also being studied, but you have to send it away." Red Woman's tone was also a little complaining.
"Double insurance. If you can't seal the big Others' Magic that resurrects the dead, you can only kill it by Sam, then show the little Others to the Citadel and Seven Kingdoms nobles.
Little Others cannot do Magic, far less shocking than Big Others, only fallback guy." Jon explained.
"I will leave a seal on them and give Samwell a ruby. If the seal fails, Others will restore magic power halfway, and the ruby will flash red light to give a reminder." Melisandre said.
"Yes." Jon sighed in relief, turned and walked towards Lord Commander's Tower.
Melisandre took a few steps closer to Jon, took his arm, and before he broke away, said, "Jon, as a novice Shadowbinder, don't reject my friendship."
Through the fleece and leather jacket, Jon can also feel the amazing heat from her soft lovable body.
She pulled his big rough hand up and pressed it to her heart, "Well, do you feel it? Like the magic power of Smoking Sea."
Jon's hand was shaking.
"My body is made entirely of fire and shadow, and long ago I no longer needed food, water, and air. One day, when I complete the mission given to me by R'hllor, I will ascend into His kingdom, do you understand what this means?"
"The prince who has passed away, the child who has not yet been born, I want to communicate, and I can go anywhere; This kind of realm, Jon, do you understand?"
Red Woman breathed softly in Jon's ear, "I'm the God of Shadowbinder!"
Jon purse one's lip, indifferently said: "I'm not a Shadowbinder, I specialize in Fire Sorcery that Daenerys Your Majesty taught me."
"Unfortunately, she didn't get the full inheritance of Grand Sorcerer, so let me guide you to master it. The mystery of the Holy Fire." Melisandre lightly said with a smile.
"I'm not interested in Holy Fire, and as a Night's Watch, the mysteries of Holy Fire are useless to me," Jon said.
"Hehe, how can it be useless?" Melisandre lightly said with a smile: "Holy Fire can reveal the truth, with Holy Fire, you can see through rock and land, through the darkest of people's Souls Secret.
Jon, I saw you in Holy Fire, you can't escape."
"I'm in the Wall, I won't run away. Whatever the future holds, I Don't be afraid! You can't scare me." Jon withdrew his right hand and broke free from Red Woman's arms.
Red Woman said with a smile: "Master Snow, are you nervous?"
Jon didn't want to admit it, and changed the subject: "Why did you come to Wall, from Asshai? Here, for what?"
Red Woman raised her head, the gems under her neck flashed red light, and chanted: "A long time ago, I dreamed of Wall, I am far more than your Night's Watch. Understand it.
There is a stalwart Magic buried under it. It condenses the knowledge and wisdom of the ancestors. It is the door of the world.
What happens here will affect the whole world, Will determine the direction of the next era.
Wall is where you should be, where the Dragon Queen should be, and where I should be.”
“I don’t know. What are you talking about."
Jon ignored her and strode up to the top of the tower.
"You'll understand." Melisandre murmured, watching his back.
......
Through the Haunted Forest, through the sparse ironwood icefield, in the extreme north Lands of Always Winter, there is a tall mountain with a long Weirwood full of red palm leaves.
Weirwood with thick hugs, Weirwood with thick fingers, Weirwood with thick bowl mouth, countless white tree trunks crowded together, like a piece of Spiritual God's Land of Buried Bones.
Under the mountain.
is a world.
A subterranean world belonging to the Children of the Forest.
Leaving the Wall under Sam's guidance, Bran sat on the back of the huge elk in Coldhands, traveled several dozen li, hundreds of miles a day, and walked north for almost a month.
sun rises and sun sets, across the mountains, rivers and forests, and finally came to the foot of this mountain like the tomb of Old Gods.
Countless Wights surround the mountain like a million armies besiege a city.
The Wights were covered in snow when Bran first arrived—he didn't even know how long they'd been around.
Coldhands is right, the cave is covered by Magic, the Wights can't get in, and the Coldhands oneself can't get in either.
Only living people with warm bodies can enter.
Bran saw a lot of Squirrelmen, and in a trance, he stepped into the story of the old nurse.
Those Children of the Forest have a head and a child, a ten-year-old child, with big and clear eyes, of various colors, as long and narrow as cat's eyes, wearing cloaks woven from leaves, skin like a doe, spots Densely clothed.
"So many Squirrelmen! Dozens, hundreds." Bran cheered.
"Many? No, we're all left with these clansmans." The Squirrelmen had a clear girlish voice, but it was very sad.
"Squirrelmen are like children," Meera Reed said.
"The First Men call us children, and the Giants call us squirrels, but we are neither squirrels nor children. The name Children of the Forest means 'people who sing praises to the earth' in Source Language. We sang in the language of oneself for millions of years before your ancient language," said the singer.
Meera said: "But you're speaking Common Language."
"It's for him, I said Source Language and he doesn't understand." The singer pointed to Bran.
"I was born in the age of Demon Dragon, and I have traveled the world for two hundred years, observing, listening and learning, and I can speak Valyria!
I have met the Old King, I Witnessing Dance of the Dragons, Demon Dragon withered.
I wanted to continue to travel, but my legs were sore, and everything in the world made me tired, so I turned around and went home." The singer's tone was vicissitudes, his eyes lighted Profound.
"My God, two hundred years!?" Meera exclaimed along with Bran.
The singer said with a smile: "Maybe, I can tell your story, Bran's story, Dragon Queen's story to the guests I meet in the next two hundred years."
"Who is the Dragon Queen?" Bran wondered.
"When you become Three-Eyed Crow, you can watch it by oneself, her story has been engraved on the leaves, under the roots, forever and ever." The singer sighed.
"Do you have a name?" Bran asked.
The "ni`bu`dong_" singer opens her mouth and makes a strange sound.
"In Source Language, it's just one symbol," she said.
“What if it was lingua franca?” Bran continued.
"It's very long, thousands of words, you can call me...'Leaf'," the singer said.
The singer held a torch and led the way, across a patch of Weirwood roots as thick as a boa constrictor, over several underground rivers, and over a narrow bridge spanning both ends of the canyon.
Eventually, Bran, Hodor, and Reed, the siblings, came to a cave full of Weirwood roots.
At the very center of the cave, Weirwood is woven into a throne with a skeleton king on it.
He was thin, his black clothes were tattered and rotten, and the roots of trees wrapped around his torso inside and out like a wooden boa constrictor, one of which went through his trousers, burrowed into his dry thighs, and protruded from his shoulders.
Spots of dark red leaves grow on his skull, and numerous gray mushrooms occupy his forehead.
The only remaining patch of skin stretched over his face, as tight and hard as white leather. Even this skin is cracking, with brown or yellow bones sprouting from below everywhere.
He had one eye, as red as a pool of blood, and in the other eye socket a thin white root crawled down his cheek from the empty socket and stuck into his neck.
This is someone who grew up with Weirwood.
"Three-Eyed Crow?" Bran asked uncertainly.
"Yes, Three-Eyed Crow, Brynden Rivers, Duke Bloodraven, Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, it's all me!"
The corpse's red eyes glowed:" Bran, you are finally here. I have observed you for a long time, witnessed your birth with a thousand and one eyes, saw you take the 1st step in life, uttered the first word in life, and plunged into the first dream in life, I I saw you fall from a tower."
Bran looked at oneself's leg and said expectantly, "I broke my leg, can you fix it?"
Brynden said: "I can't do it."
Tears welled up in Bran's eyes, and he wept weakly: "But, you have repeatedly entered my dreams, let me come to you, and I suffer untold hardships Came here...to heal the leg."
"Be strong, child, your mission here is not to heal the leg, but to take my place and become the Three-Eyed Crow!" Brynden road.
"Inheriting your seat?"
Seeing Brynden, whose body and roots grow together and mushrooms on his head, 9-year-old Bran shrank and cried harder .