Chapter 276 I am the King
The house was sealed, without the heat of the sun, without the warm air, without windows, just a hay mat and a person, an almost dead person.
The thorns of weeds filled his mouth, and the fishy smell of blood filled his mouth and nose. He didn't dare to cough. As long as he moved his lips a little, the severe pain could make him faint in an instant.
But the nun didn't think so, and she stepped forward.
"No!" Joffrey shouted in his mind.
The nun tore off the thorn sticks from Joffrey's mouth. The severe pain spread from his mouth to his whole body, leaving him nearly paralyzed.
His tongue was like a foreign object that did not belong to his body, touching the ground that smelled of stinky water. This house was probably built next to the stinking ditch in Flea Bottom. There were sticky unknown lumps on the ground, and there was a feeling of nausea. The smell entered Joffrey's mouth and nose.
"Tell the gods what you see, what you smell, what you hear."
A cry came from Joffrey's mouth, like a tortured cat meowing.
Seeing that he didn't speak for a long time, the thorn stick hit his back with a "swish!"
"Ah!!!~"
Joffrey's eyes were filled with blood red, and his veins bulged painfully, "I saw it! I saw it!" He sobbed from time to time, and his heavy breathing echoed in the room.
The nun remained silent and raised the thorn again.
"Don't hit me! Don't hit me! Don't hit me! I'm in so much pain, so much pain!" Joffrey ignored the soreness all over his body and the burning pain in his back, swinging his limbs like a fish about to die of drought.
"I saw the refugees trapped in hunger and thirst, I saw the neglected corpses lying in the stinking ditch, and the corpses that were picked up by wild dogs"
"I saw the sinful nobles playing in the Red Castle, living in luxury. There were also hypocritical monks in the church, with big bellies and holding Bibles"
"What else?" asked the nun.
"And, and, and, and..." Joffrey touched the ground with his hands, rubbing it back and forth, while his brain tried desperately to remember, "I smell the smell of dead people, the smell of smelly ditches, and the disgusting smell of rouge powder on the merchant's body. , the shameless perfume of aristocrats."
"What else?"
"And! And!" Joffrey held his head in his hands and neighed in pain, "Gods, I can't hear your voices. I want to pray, only pray"
The thorns fell down again.
"Ahhh!" Joffrey blocked the blow with the palm of his right hand, and blood marks immediately appeared.
Joffrey knelt on the ground, stumbled step by step to the nun, and hugged her legs, "I repent, I repent, I am not a good king, I can't, I want to follow the Archbishop, I want to follow Archbishop, I want to follow Archbishop, I want"
The nun left, leaving the thorn on the ground.
The door creaked for a long time and was half opened in front of you.
Joffrey raised his head, bloodshot eyes were still in the whites of his eyes, and his eyes spoke of longing.
He stretched his neck desperately and sniffed frantically.
The smell of the stinky ditch was even stronger, and he could even hear the splash of dead fish and rotten shrimps rolling in the ditch.
She hadn't noticed, Joffrey thought to himself, as the shivers of excitement immediately spread from his heart and spread throughout his body, shaking uncontrollably.
The initial excitement faded away, and the involuntary trembling in the body became more fearful, "The stranger is waiting for me outside the door. I can't. I am a devout believer. Where is the archbishop? Where is the archbishop? Come and save me. Come and save me." Gods bless, gods bless.”
He was lying on the ground, looking up at the half-open door, but never moved a step.
The stalemate lasted all night until he collapsed to the ground exhausted.
The door suddenly opened without any sound.
Joffrey's eyes narrowed in exhaustion, and the High Sparrow stood at the door, looking at him kindly.
He closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.
In the eyes of the High Sparrow, he is like a docile sheep, sleeping without any precautions.
The nun was behind him, her head bowed in reverence.
"That's almost it. The king I personally taught, the real king." The High Sparrow whispered, with uncontrollable excitement in his words.
"If Sir Militan saw the king in this state, I am afraid he would not agree with your approach." The nun said.
"It doesn't matter," the High Sparrow said, his clasped hands shaking slightly, "As long as the result is good"
"Assassins Overseas"
"Our agreement is coming soon. When the swords of the Church are re-equipped and put at the disposal of the people of Braavos, our goal will be achieved by then." A smile appeared on the High Sparrow's face. He didn't know what the Faceless Man's intentions were. Purpose, and I don’t know why he is willing to act as the king of Westeros to cover himself up with a face that needs to be soaked at any time. He does not need to know too much information, he just knows that the church’s arms and supreme glory will Created in his hands. "Bath and dress the king, my dear Leah."
The nun bowed slightly and walked in.
When Joffrey opened his eyes again, the sun was behind his head, and warmth spread all over his body, like a bed quilt that hadn't been touched in a long time.
He lowered his head. He was wearing the attire of a king when he arrived. A dagger inlaid with seven-star gems came into view first. The golden and silver robes were wrapped down to his knees. Baratheon's family emblem was on the seven-pointed star. Rather like a holy deer.
The High Sparrow took his hand and said, "The appointed time has come. Your Majesty, you should return to the Red Castle and preside over the fate of the Seven Kingdoms." He also added in a low voice, "This is God's will."
< br>
Joffrey stared blankly ahead. The nuns, the nuns who had bullied him and whipped him with thorns, all stood in front of him, bowing their heads piously.
The knight, the knight who had listened to his cry but ignored it, stood in front of him, like a guard, majestic.
Joffrey's eyes shifted and stayed on the kind face of the High Sparrow. When he saw this face, he almost cried.
"Archbishop, I am afraid, I want to hug you, hug you"
The High Sparrow shook his head in relief, as if there was still some helplessness in his eyes. He opened his arms and said, "Subject to your will, Your Majesty."
The kindness on his face remained the same, and he gently hugged Joffrey with both hands, like an old father encouraging his son with joy.
Pain, with thick liquid, spreads from the abdomen.
The High Sparrow frowned and lowered his head inexplicably.
The tip of the dagger inlaid with the seven-pointed star gem was inserted into his body, piercing the simple linen robe and drawing a blooming red flower on his abdomen.
Blood, drop by drop, flowed down the white robe and legs.
The High Sparrow raised his head, as if a stranger had strangled his throat. He could only whine and have nothing to say.
Joffrey's pious expression slowly changed, and a smile appeared on his face, "You old thing, you old thing."
One sword, two swords, three swords, Joffrey kept pulling out, thrusting in, pulling out, thrusting again.
"You bitch, you bastard, you deserve to be a rat that eats dirt and drinks stinky water! You old and immortal thing, how dare you hurt the king? How dare you torture the king? I am the king, I am the king!"
Joffrey whimpered softly, like the roar of a wild beast when it unleashes its bestiality.
"Go to hell! Go to hell! Go to hell! Go to hell! Go to hell!"
He screamed crazily, and the dagger almost fell out of his hand, completely piercing the High Sparrow's body.
"Oh! No! Gods." The High Sparrow wilted, bent over and fell to the ground. When he raised his head, he heard Joffrey's loud shout.
"I am the king!"
"Bishop!~"
Knights and nuns swarmed forward.
Joffrey pulled out the dagger from the High Sparrow's belly and stabbed the nun named Leia.
The knight's sword and the nun's fingernails dug into the king's face, peeling off his robes and fine clothes.
The Faceless Man hid in the corner and watched all this silently.
The king fell, the corpses of the nuns lay scattered on the ground, and the high sparrow opened its mouth, facing the sky, as if to express its unwillingness to succeed but failed.
The Faceless Man quietly left.
In the Red Keep of King's Landing, Margaery holds a ladle and shakes the water in the basin.
A swollen face floated inside. Carefully identify it, it was the face of King Joffrey.
The curtains were suddenly blown by the wind, and the faceless man stood by the window.
Margery put down the ladle and looked at the window, "You"
"Someone's mission has ended," the faceless man stared at the face in the basin, a poor-quality face. "A poor-quality fake face cannot be compared to a real face after all."
"What do you mean?" Margaery looked at Joffrey's face in a daze, "Is it possible?" She looked at the Faceless Man with wide eyes, shock written all over her face.
"Someone is surprised," said the Faceless Man. "Someone just needs to continue pretending and wait for news from Oldtown."
(End of chapter)