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A Song of Ice and Fire: Wrath of the Sleeping Dragon

[A Song of Ice and Fire Fanfiction] Transported into the body Viserys Targaryen, the rightful sovereign of the Andals, Rhoynar, and the First Men, and the Guardian of the Realm, I embrace my title as the 'True Dragon.' **Update**- I can now confirm this book will be a harem book. around 250ish the book alludes to the possibility of it while introducing the first confirmed woman the MC sleeps with. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Hello everyone, I wanted to diversify my projects a bit after my earlier stumbles and newfound success and motivation from my main translation work as I start to get into a groove of improving my translating abilities. ASOIAF and GoT overall seems to be a popular but have a somewhat underserved audience on here compared to something like Marvel, DC, and shonen jump manga /comics. That being said I am very well aware of the rather large distaste for bad Chinese fanfiction translations. I do my best to select works that have a large volume of chapters that are available to me. Given that I’m in the US and don’t have access to things like Alipay or WeChat (believe me I’ve tried :( ) to get access to more popular sites like b.faloo and my extreme unwillingness to just touch up existing MTL translations means I will continue to have to select from a limited number of projects. I also know the color of the eye on more human side of the face should be purplish but I'm still super new to using Midjourny as my focus this past month has been more on getting my quality up and creating a stockpile of chapters for my main translation project.-- also I got lucky with the image actually kind of reflecting a more intense version of what I would imagine the "golden finger" looks like.

Read_and_Chill · Livres et littérature
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805 Chs

Chapter 567: Back from the Brink of Death

Life doles out fortunes unequally. Hendry was originally just a lowly-born bastard, with a scheming uncle always eager to send him to his death on the battlefield. But fate intervened dramatically when his long-lost father reappeared, astonishingly now a powerful minister serving a king. Hendry's status was elevated overnight, and he was courted by influential figures, including Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King from the previous regime. Even now, Hendry was still reeling from the whirlwind changes.

Viserys didn't linger at Seagull Town but instead flew directly to the Eyrie. The Eyrie's soldiers seemed to have been prepared for the dragon's arrival. They were war-weary from incessant conflicts and readily surrendered when Baelorion appeared, even before news of the Vale army's surrender had arrived.

War is like that; it starts difficult but becomes smoother over time. Initially, the Targaryen forces faced staunch resistance, such as from the Westerlands and the siege at Bronzegate in the Stormlands. But as time went on, many regions surrendered upon merely seeing the Targaryen banner of the three-headed dragon, offering no resistance at all.

When Viserys descended upon the Eyrie, he subdued the magnificent castle. A few days later, the Vale army returned. Lyn Corbray, wielding the Valyrian steel weapon "Lady Forlorn," volunteered to lead an attack on Runestone under Petyr Baelish's banner. He vowed not to rest until he had taken the head of Robar Royce.

As the Vale forces returned, they also brought grim news: the "Blackfish," Ser Brynden Tully, was gravely wounded and near death. Maester Coleman had been struggling to save him, but with little success. Viserys, who was temporarily residing in the Eyrie, paid a personal visit to this future legendary "Marshal of the South."

Upon examining him, Viserys realized that Brynden Tully was not merely injured but poisoned. Viserys employed a secret technique, using dark mist to strengthen Brynden's body and nullify the poison. Viserys had successfully employed this technique several times before, and this time was no exception.

Within the sunlit hall of the Eyrie, the room was packed. Petyr Baelish, the newly appointed Governor of the Vale, was in resplendent attire with a raven brooch on his black cloak. He looked somber, standing in the center of the crowd.

Petyr Baelish had orchestrated the bloodless takeover of the Vale for Viserys, who, in return, had granted him significant powers, making him the first Governor of the Vale in the new dynasty. However, Viserys had intentionally left a loophole: he did not grant the Eyrie to Petyr. While Petyr held substantial powers as the Governor, he did not possess his own castle; he still only had a dilapidated tower on the Fingers. As clever as he was, Petyr realized the precarity of his position. His loyalty to the king was now deeply etched into his very bones.

Lysa Tully, on the other hand, clung to her fiancé's arm, her face etched with sorrow as she looked at her dying uncle. She was the most genuinely distressed in the room. With her family's downfall and her father's death, the loss of her uncle would leave her utterly defenseless.

The hall was deathly silent. Viserys, in his brocaded robes, stood at the forefront. As he laid his hands on Brynden Tully's forehead, nobody saw the dark mist enter the knight's body, only the slight trembling that followed.

Petyr Baelish, standing at the forefront of the crowd, had an uneasy premonition. "What is His Majesty doing?" whispered the Vale nobles among themselves, puzzled by Viserys' actions.

Just then, Brynden Tully's body trembled violently, and he suddenly spat out a mouthful of black blood. Viserys seemed to have anticipated this, stepping aside just in time to avoid the splatter. Brynden Tully, his hair graying, coughed violently, as if trying to expel his very innards.

He felt a warm current swiftly course through his body, strengthening his flesh and bones and dispelling the agony and toxins that had been plaguing him. The hall erupted in astonishment. They had all gathered, partly to honor the king's visit but also to bid farewell to the dying knight. No one expected to witness a resurrection.