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ASOIAF/GOT: Minecraft in Essos.

Azrael, a language teacher in his old life, transported to the world of ice and fire for no apparent reason, left in a desert near the Dothraki sea, without knowing how he got there and his purpose, must go through tribulations and trials in order to survive in a world full of betrayal, death, hunger, wars and supernatural beings, being his only weapon the little knowledge about the world and a creative Minecraft menu at his disposal. ---------------- --------- For readers who dive into my story, the protagonist will not be op, since I don't have the idea of the protagonist as such in that way, but he will have tools and methods that will make his life easier, which will be largely based on Minecraft's creative menu and his general knowledge of the world. Now, if you decide to read it, I could use your reviews, so this book can reach more people and at the same time motivate me to keep writing. Patreon if you want to help me and read ahead. patreon.com/Dreamer392 Discord: https://discord.gg/2zSPT88TdV

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Chapter Eighteen: Maegi.

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This chapter has a scene of aggression towards women.

~~~~(Point of view: Third person)

~~~~(Date: 275 AC)~~~~

"Think!" 

The sound of the clock chimed inside Azrael's carriage, its hands striking half past eight. 

The street lamps that had been providing light to the room were now in their diminished brilliance, with the entire room reeking of alcohol and a melodic song coming from the record player. 

Azrael was sitting in a large armchair, with messy hair and dark bags under his eyes. With a bottle of fermented goat's milk in his hand, he looked miserable. 

He knew this world was cruel—quite cruel, in fact—and he in particular had been cruel against his enemies, shaking his hand to kill anyone who presented a challenge and was a danger to the Khalasar. 

But now, he had experienced that cruelty first-hand, knowing how someone he had come to love, if only a little, would die at a moment's notice, and be at the hands of those he had protected. Making the wound more mortal. 

What happened to Amanda opened his eyes and reminded him that he had to become stronger and have a more loyal company by his side so that things like that would never happen again. 

Still, Azrael understood that there were many Dothraki of his Khalasar who revered him, so he couldn't get rid of all of them; he had to separate the loyal ones from the non-loyal ones first, then eradicate them like weeds. 

But he knew he couldn't do that now; he didn't have the methods to know who was loyal to him and who wasn't. For that, he needed people to infiltrate inside the Khalasar, in the parts where he hadn't been yet, and thus take them out like cockroaches. And while he could make use of the book of loyalty enchantment, doing that for over twenty thousand people would be a very long and exhausting job. 

But that would have to wait for the moment, as he had no mind to think about such things now. Because all he wanted to do was get drunk. 

"Knock!" 

Someone was heard knocking on the oak door of the carriage, causing Azrael to shout angrily, "I said, don't bother me!". 

For a few seconds, no response was heard, only for a woman's voice on the other side of the door to be heard. 

"My Khal, I come to bring you more beer." The woman's silky voice sounded like a mother's embrace. 

Rising from his chair, Azrael staggered slightly, going to the door and opening it. Receiving the sight of a woman, perhaps in her thirties. 

The woman, black-haired and brown-eyed, plump and heart-faced, smiled at Azrael and held out the mug full of ale to Azrael. 

"... Thank you," Azrael commented absent-mindedly, returning to the living room and placing the mug on a shelf. 

As he did this, the woman from before entered the carriage, closed the door carefully and walked over to Azrael. 

"My Khal, today was a very hard day for you," she began, rubbing her hand on Azrael's shoulder as she looked at him in a flirtatious manner. 

"I do not need your presence; go away." Azrael dismissed her thoughtlessly, not noticing the hard look the woman gave him. 

"But my Khal, you look very tense," the woman continued to insist, watching Azrael return to his chair and sit down. 

"If you want to help someone, go to my blood riders; they will surely comfort you," He said condescendingly, as he went back to drinking more ale. 

"I know several things you might like; my name is Mirri, but I am known more as the forgetful one, as I am very good at making tense men forget their troubles," the woman said seductively, approaching Azrael and sitting on him astride him. 

'Mirri?' Azrael thought, knowing he had heard somewhere that name, but every time he was about to come to the memory, the effect of the alcohol denied him. 

"Mirri, your name sounds familiar," Azrael said to Mirri, who only smiled and shook her head. 

"No, my Khal, we have never had an encounter before; forgive me for that," Mirri assured Azrael, as she began to kiss him by the neck. 

'Mirri' 

As Mirri continued to kiss Azrael, Azrael tried to remember where he had heard that name from, until a clue came to him: Maegi. 

The witch who had 'helped' Daenerys when Khal Drogo fell ill, only to render him a vegetable and kill her unborn child. 

"Mirri Maz Duur" Azrael suddenly said, causing Mirri to pause. 

"You are Mirri Maz Duur, Maegi." 

Mirri, seeing that she had been discovered, pulled a black knife from her belt and, with a swift motion, plunged it into Azrael's stomach, causing Azrael to pull her off of him. 

"Ahhh" stifled a cry of pain from Azrael as he covered his bleeding wound with his right hand.

However, Mirri was not willing to pass up the opportunity to kill a Dothraki Khal, and with the blood-stained dagger, she approached Azrael and aimed it at the middle of his eyebrows. 

Azrael, even in his drunken state, sensed the danger and, raising his left hand to parry Mirri's dagger, stopped it as it pierced his hand. 

"You fucking bitch!" shouted Azrael in rage, and with his right hand, he swung a hard fist at Mirri, making her fall. 

"Ahh!" Mirri screamed as she hit her forehead on a nearby table as she fell. 

Azrael, for his part, gathered strength and pulled the knife out of his hand, feeling the sharp pain and sting of his two stabs. 

When he pulled the knife out, he dropped it on the floor and immediately drank a regeneration potion, instantly feeling his wounds close at a rapid rate and the pain disappear. 

After three seconds, his wounds were already healed, to the point that his drunkenness had dissipated, and seeing Mirri on the ground, Azrael was filled with rage and rancor. 

So, approaching her, he landed on her and began to beat her face with fists and punches, letting out all the rage and tension he had accumulated. 

When he came to, he saw how Mirri's face was disfigured and bleeding, as she moaned in pain. For a moment, he thought of Amanda, and what she had to suffer before she could rest in peace, which made him regret hitting a woman to such an extent. 

However, thinking about how she wanted to kill him, that regret vanished. 

Determined not to let the woman die just yet, Azrael gave her a health splash potion, managing to see the bleeding stop and Mirri stop moaning from the pain of her wounds. 

However, Azrael had something else in mind, so pulling a small artifact from the menu, he looked at it for a while. 

A small golden doll, no more than three centimeters big, shaped like a voodoo doll, with glowing green eyes and a glittering body. 

"You like magic, all right," Azrael said, taking Mirri's hand. 

"I like it too, so let me show you the power I possess," Azrael said to Mirri, posing the totem of immortality in Mirri's hand, and having her squeeze it. 

After that, Azrael took the knife with which Mirri had tried to kill him and, placing it to his neck, said, "Thank you; you will help me to know if it is of any use." 

Slicing her throat wide open, he watched as Mirri choked on her blood until she lay motionless on the floor. 

At first, nothing happened, and possible disappointment was seeping into Azrael's face, only for the totem to break free from Mirri's hands and gently float closer to her face. 

When it was on her face, the totem's head detached from her body, releasing small black and red smoke-like particles that quickly seeped into Mirri's ears, nose, and mouth. 

One. Two. Three. 

Those were the seconds Azrael counted when he saw how the wound on Mirri's neck had completely closed. "Huaa!" Mirri came back to life, sucking in air as if she had been submerged underwater. 

"The totem serves, very well," said Azrael, seeing how Mirri looked at him with a surprised face, completely frightened and confused. 

"Goodbye, you fucking bitch," Azrael said to her, then stomped on her face with his leather boot, causing Mirri to lose consciousness. 

The totem of immortality had worked, and while more tests had to be done to know if it was strictly necessary to have it in hand, Azrael knew it was at least a usable lifeline. 

Seeing Mirri's limp body on the floor, Azrael decided he no longer needed her and taking her by the arm, he dragged her to the door. As he opened it, he saw how his wolves were standing in front of it; apparently, they had heard everything that had happened inside. 

Azrael smiled at them and then threw Mirri's body to the wolves. "Maybe I'll do Daenerys a favor, and she hasn't been born yet," he said to himself, giving the wolves permission to devour Mirri's body.

Creation is hard, cheer me up!

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