Chapter 625: The Prophecy of the Bearded Monk of Norfos

After half a month.

Norvos Hills, mountain fortress.

The sky is dark and lightless, covered with an airtight layer of clouds all year round, and the climate is cold and humid.

There are many mountains at the foot of the mountain, surrounded by mountains and dense forests of pines and cypresses.

As one of the nine free trade city-states, Norvos has the most difficult environment.

"Cheer up and don't be attacked by the dragon!"

On the battlements of the fortress, a bearded monk wearing a red robe scolded the soldiers on guard.

The soldier holds a battle ax and has a green ax tattoo on his face.

This is a religious tradition in Norvos, which means that a warrior marries an ax and is loyal to the ax in his hand throughout his life.

Faced with the rebuke from religious members, the soldiers were timid and did not dare to show any resistance.

"Don't take it lightly, the Dragon King of Valyria is the most treacherous!"

The bearded monk spoke with a pure Valyrian accent, and his sallow face was filled with solemnity.

Just ten days ago, Kohor's mercenaries were transferred in large numbers and placed throughout the Norvos Hills.

Three days ago, the army was stationed under the mountain fortress.

There is a strong trend of storm coming.

Just finished speaking,

"Hiss-"

A huge dragon as black as carbon flew over the mountains, its wings that covered the sky covered its head, like a dark cloud cover.

Rhaegar smiled and said: "Dragon Flame!"

boom--

The glutton looked up to the sky and roared, spraying green dragon flames like ashes, lightly filling the entire fortress.

In an instant, the sky was covered with a layer of green gauze.

"No! No no!"

The garrison soldiers' eyes widened, and the battle line instantly became a mess.

Zila Zila...

The green dragon flames spread down, and the tarsal bones stuck to all objects like maggots, even the stone city walls melted.

The soldiers were infected with the dragon flames, just like they were infected with the Black Death, and they suddenly howled and screamed miserably.

Some even rolled all over the ground and turned into a withered skeleton while rolling.

"No, come and protect me."

The bearded monk's expression changed drastically, and he grabbed a soldier and stood in front of him.

However, it was of no use.

The dragon flame is like a fishing net, with layers intertwined and covering everyone.

A wisp of green dragon flame fell on the thick black hairband, instantly igniting a soft and greasy flame.

"ah!!"

The screams are endless, and the high temperature drives away the coldness of the lonely mountain.

In a moment, even the snow will melt.

"Hiss-"

The glutton's green vertical pupils were stern, and he slowly turned around and returned to the dense snow-covered pine forest.

"Good job, old man."

Rhaegar smiled, holding on to the saddle rope to resist the biting cold wind as the dragon swooped down.

A small Norvos.

How long can the dragon flames burn on the 3rd and 5th day?

…

At noon, the sun shines on the dense forest.

"roar……"

The glutton lay lying in a clearing with bushes, letting out a half-dead growl.

Within a kilometer radius of it, the soil was scorched black and filled with the pungent smell of ash.

"Winter is really not kind to dragons."

Lei Jia smiled and strode towards the camp.

The glutton is fine, but he is not accustomed to the cold environment and resists as if to demonstrate to him.

This is not wrong, after all, everyone has been really lazy recently.

Not motivated to do anything.

Entering the camp, several figures were formulating strategies.

Daemon glanced up and continued: "The rivers of Loras and Norvos are connected to each other, and the mercenaries of Pentos are also on their way. The pace of the war must be accelerated."

"How fast do you think it is? It's only been ten days?"

Otto frowned deeply and said angrily: "Our army was temporarily recruited, and now half of them are still wearing single clothes."

"It doesn't matter whether they live or die, it's enough if they can pick up weapons."

Damon has a cold temperament and analyzes the battle situation rationally.

If we don't mention speeding up, waiting for enemy reinforcements to arrive will be even more troublesome.

Rega's eyes flashed and he agreed: "Norvos is not heavily defended, and the success rate of large-scale attacks is very high."

"His Majesty."

Otto looked serious and said solemnly: "If the army does not obey orders, it may be in danger of mutiny."

"So what?"

Damon retorted directly and said coldly: "You are a southerner. If you can't stand the bitter cold, you can retreat to Cohol."

As long as the battle is fast enough, the army will not have time to mutiny.

"Damon!"

Otto's face turned blue when he was ridiculed, and he was about to slam the table to challenge him.

Damon's eyes turned cold, waiting for the other party's next words.

The two have been hostile for more than twenty years and have long been rivals.

"That's enough, don't keep arguing!"

Rhaegar interrupted with a loud shout, and said solemnly: "Let's start tonight, order the army to cook rice, and kill all the goats to make soup."

The army is coming and the soldiers are warmed up.

Otto was extremely aggrieved and said in a muffled voice: "Yes, Your Majesty."

There are only so many military supplies, so it’s best to finish them as soon as possible.

Damon immediately smiled and said with full control: "All the fortresses near the mountain fortress have been burned. We can go straight across the road to attack Norvos."

"Kill but not capture!"

Rhaegar's eyes were gloomy, speaking of the cruelty of war.

…

Midnight, Norvos.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Three ancient bells with different tones rang continuously, covering up the wailing and crying under the flames.

The majestic city-state built under the mountains and along the river was devoured by fire and swords.

"Hiss-"

A huge dragon as black as carbon spreads its wings and soars, a pair of giant wings covering the dark night sky.

When the mercenaries rushed into the collapsed city gate and slaughtered the resistance army wantonly.

Countless Norvos people knelt on the ground and prayed with tears.

Unfortunately, the gods believed by the bearded monks ignored them, and the gods of the Andals and Valyrians also disappeared from the world.

At this moment, the only true god is the "Deathwing" who is famous on both sides of the strait.

On the towering hills, three ancient bells shook.

An old bearded monk knelt on his knees, tears flowing from his turbid old eyes, and choked: "Great God of Death, it's not time for us yet."

Follow the doctrine of believing in the God of Death.

When facing danger, it is not time to meet the God of Death.

"There is another one, catch him!"

The mercenary with a bloody face found him, pressed him down roughly, and tied him up with ropes.

The three buzzing ancient bells also stopped swinging.

...

The next day at dawn.

Norvos Hills, Governor's Mansion.

Human heads were stuck on spears and placed in a row.

"Calm down the civilians and don't destroy the three ancient bells."

Early in the morning, Rhaegar walked quickly and kept issuing orders for the aftermath.

"Your Majesty, I have something to report."

Otto blocked his way, with a pair of dark circles under his eyes.

After a busy night, no one was relaxed.

"What's the matter?"

Rhaegar kept walking and assigned mercenaries to put out the fire in the mansion.

Attacking the city was fun for a while, but even a tile had to be repaired afterwards.

Damn it, I really should have brought Aegon, Aemond and other brothers with me, and all went to pick up bricks in the ruins.

Otto followed closely and said solemnly: "Daemon captured the Temple of the Bearded and found a strange mural."

"You should go and see it."

"Oh?" Rhaegar paused.

Among the nine free trade cities, except for the port cities on both sides of the Strait of Horde, which were newly established for hundreds of years, cities like Qohor and Norvos have a history of thousands of years.

These ancient castles seem to hide some secrets.

For example, the red-roofed temple of Qohor, where the Faceless Ones almost assassinated Aemond.

Incense has a hallucinogenic effect.

But Rhaegar has not figured out the strangeness other than the incense.

"Let's go and take a look."

Rhaegar became interested and put the work on hand aside for the time being.

...

After a long journey, they entered the temple built of black granite.

Daemon stood in front of an underground stone wall and reached out to touch the dim and blurred murals.

Rhaegar cast his eyes and frowned slightly.

It was a composition of dragons, white walkers, winter and the Great Wall. The lines were very deep and thick, and the age was extremely long.

The army of the dead brought winter and stood under the towering walls.

The heavy snow roared and covered the dark forest.

The dragon spewed flames, but was pierced through the neck by a spear and fell to the ground to be eaten by the dead.

At the end of the mural, two dragons fought in the air, spewing dragon flames at each other.

It seemed that they had a special worship of fire, and the flames on the murals were all drawn with another kind of paint.

One dragon spewed black fire, and the other spewed ice-blue fire.

Finally, there was a strange and ferocious face.

It looked like a human, but more like a dead person.

Staring with a pair of blue pupils, full of ambition and contempt, looking down on the world.

"Is this a white walker?"

Daemon suddenly spoke, turning his head with a serious expression.

Rhaegar stared at the ferocious face and said in a deep voice: "Yes, the darkness in the north."

But what did it foreshadow?

The white walkers have the ability to kill dragons, and they also have the ability to control dragons.

How is this possible.

Daemon was stunned and whispered: "Is everything my brother said true?"

Since becoming king, Viserys would talk to him privately about the prophecy of white walkers, darkness and conquerors from time to time.

Every time he treated it as fart, an excuse for his brother to cover up his cowardice.

Seeing the murals of the ancient city-state today, my understanding of the world has suddenly become clear.

This is more exciting than the homeland in the sea of ​​smoke.

"And this side."

Otto said silently, pointing to the murals at the entrance of the cave.

That picture shows a scene of towering fire peaks and the shepherd's first encounter with a dragon.

And the rise of the Free Fortress Empire, the fall of the Old Ghis Empire, and the Valyrians enslaving tens of thousands of slaves to dig underground ore.

Before connecting to the chapter where a fleet drifted to the continent of Westeros, the continuous fire peaks exploded and destroyed the flying dragons.

"All are prophecies."

Rhaegar's face changed slightly, and he touched every inch of the mural one by one.

"No, the age of these marks is inconsistent."

Touching the three chapters of the mural, Rhaegar suddenly found that they were from three different times.

The shepherd encountered the dragon at the beginning, which is the oldest.

At least more than a thousand years.

The murals of the White Walkers are slightly inferior, and they must be three to five hundred years old.

The stone carvings of Enar's Exile in the middle are new, and they are works from the last hundred years.

"What's the difference?"

Daemon was no longer in the mood to think at this time.

Rhaegar said seriously: "The difference is huge. The difference in time will verify whether the mural is a prophecy or a record."

At least Enar's Exile is definitely a record of later generations.

"Maybe we should ask someone who knows."

Otto thought in his heart and called the mercenaries to bring one person.

Plop!

The old bearded monk was pressed to his knees, sobbing in a listless manner.

His mouth was blocked by a rag.

Rhaegar pulled out the rag and asked directly: "What does the mural mean?"

"Hehe..."

The bearded monk gasped for air, his cloudy old eyes gleaming with brilliance, and he muttered like crazy: "Lose a dragon, gain a dragon!"