Game of Thrones White Wolf

Chapter 179 181: The Kraken's Tentacles

Outside the "Green Hand Hall" of the Tyrells stood a statue of Garth Greenhand.

Carved from pure white marble, his features were soft and flowing. In the Reach, Garth was a figure who sat on equal footing with the Seven Gods themselves.

Legend said that Garth made men handsome and women beautiful, blessing them with fertility so they could populate the Reach and fill it with their descendants.

House Gardener claimed direct descent from Garth, which was precisely why the Florents—who boasted a closer blood tie to the Gardeners—had always looked down on the Tyrells.

They considered themselves the true heirs.

But times changed. Dragons arrived, and the Seven Kingdoms were united. In the face of dragonfire, all things sacred faced two choices: bend the knee, or burn to ash.

Willas, rolling alongside Jon, kept up a steady stream of commentary about their surroundings.

The opulence of Highgarden was certainly no less than that of Casterly Rock.

While Willas spoke, Jon activated his [Divine Vision] to scan the servants and attendants nearby. According to Willas, Euron's mute sailors should be mingling among them.

Sure enough, Jon quickly spotted a disturbing mass of black-red light radiating from someone in the crowd! That was definitely not a natural color.

It was a sailor, not yet forty, with a gaunt frame and sharp eyes. He wore a green vest provided by House Tyrell, blending in well enough with the throng.

Jon didn't look directly at him, avoiding any suspicion, but he could clearly sense the man observing him.

There was no doubt—this guy wasn't just Euron's accomplice. He was likely a puppet being directly controlled by Euron.

The look in his eyes was peculiar. Ordinary servants looked at Jon with awe mixed with curiosity. This man's gaze was that of a hunter eager to test his prey.

Is Euron's target me? Jon felt a jolt of surprise. It seemed unlikely that Euron would know his true identity.

Unable to figure it out in the moment, Jon decided not to dwell on it. At the very least, Euron definitely didn't know that Jon knew who he was.

"The Duke of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West, Jon Stark has arrived!"

Following the herald's announcement, Jon entered the Green Hand Hall.

Willas, pushed in his wheelchair, moved side-by-side with him, a large retinue trailing behind them.

"Jon's here!"

"Brother Jon!"

Arya and Lyman cried out in succession, darting toward the door like a gust of wind. Only Mound, standing behind Lyman, tried in vain to remind the boy of the decorum expected of an Earl.

The two were of similar age. Since arriving at Highgarden, Lyman had practically become Arya's shadow; they were inseparable.

After recuperating at Winterfell for a time, Arya's hair had grown back. Though she still had her "horse face," she had cultivated the air of a noble lady.

Moreover, having inherited the tall genes of House Stark, she was growing fast. After a few months apart, she seemed to have shot up a full head.

Now wearing a dress like Sansa, no one would mistake her for a boy anymore.

Lyman, on the other hand, was a bit tragic. As a boy, his growth spurt was hitting later. Even though they were the same age, he was shorter than Arya, despite his valiant efforts to stand as straight as possible.

The main reason for his devotion was that after Arya arrived at Highgarden, they had sparred. Lyman had been beaten soundly, but he felt no humiliation in losing to a girl—only admiration for the strong.

He was now firmly established as Arya's little henchman.

Hearing of Jon's arrival, Olenna stopped her small talk with Selyse and waited for her grandson-in-law to appear.

Olenna had many thoughts regarding Jon.

Setting aside the battle that turned the tide in King's Landing, before he marched on the West, everyone had viewed this bastard who rose too fast as a pawn to be wooed and used.

The Iron Throne thought so. Highgarden thought so.

Despite his illustrious military record, no one had truly believed he could take Casterly Rock.

Some had even privately mocked him as a "Duke in name only."

Yet, this young man had carved a bloody path with his own wit and methods, conquering the Rock and seizing the lifeline of the West.

From now on, he was a true feudal power, an existence that sat on equal footing with Mace.

Catelyn and Alerie also paused their conversation. Jon's words from that day still echoed in Catelyn's ears. Since Jon treated her as a mother, she ought to act like one.

Even Catelyn hadn't realized that she didn't seem to hate Jon anymore.

Deep down, a sense of affection and protectiveness had begun to well up.

Catelyn had many reasons for disliking Jon in the past—she felt he stole Ned's love, and he looked more like a Stark than her own children.

But ever since she learned that Jon had killed Joffrey in King's Landing and protected Sansa and Arya, her mindset had quietly shifted.

Furthermore, seeing how well Arya got along with Lyman, Catelyn—speaking from experience—thought it wouldn't be bad if Arya married Lyman in the future. Lyman worshiped Jon, and Arya was Jon's sister. With her own connection added in, House Darry could become a staunch ally of the Tullys.

The Riverlands had been carved into three: Riverrun, the Twins, and Harrenhal.

Harrenhal had ultimately been granted by Stannis to House Desmond of the Stormlands, who had fought bravely at the Battle of the Blackwater.

This caused the power and influence of House Tully to decline significantly.

Since the North and Winterfell were secure, Catelyn wanted to help her younger brother, Edmure.

Bran sat quietly in his wheelchair, with Myrcella by his side. According to the agreement between Jon and Jaime, Myrcella would serve as Bran's handmaid for life.

Bran couldn't help but glance toward the "Adventurer" who was the center of attention in the crowd. The man's clothes were a gift from Mace, their opulence going without saying.

But the eyepatch he wore made him feel out of place. Bran had heard he presented a dragon egg as a wedding gift for Jon.

Bran really wanted to see what a dragon egg looked like.

Rickon was only five, but his capacity for mischief rivaled Arya's at that age. To maintain dignity on such an occasion, Catelyn wished she could leash the little monkey to her belt.

Knowing Jon had arrived, Selyse felt a little more confident. Although many saw Jon as the second coming of Ned Stark, he was loyal enough to the Crown.

Most importantly, he had to be loyal. To rule the West, he would need to be obedient to the Royal Family for at least a few hundred years.

Until his descendants completely erased the Lannister influence in the West, Jon was to the West what the Tyrells were to the Reach.

Selyse put on a dignified expression and looked toward the door. A triumphant general should naturally bow to her, the Queen, first.

Alekyne, having failed his previous task, didn't wait for Selyse's order this time. He walked directly toward Jon.

He had to ensure Jon paid his respects to the Queen immediately, before going anywhere else or greeting anyone else.

And so, under the expectant gaze of the crowd, Jon arrived at the entrance. Everyone craned their necks to see the legendary figure who had leaped from bastard to Duke of Casterly Rock.

Entering the hall, Jon continued inward, smiling and nodding to the crowd while secretly scanning for Euron.

He had barely taken two steps when he saw another mass of dense, black-red light.

It was Euron!

Euron was also wearing a green robe, though his was far more luxurious in style, with a golden ship sigil stitched over the right breast.

But the clothes didn't match his aura at all. It felt like a beast wearing human skin.

In fact, the light around Euron couldn't even be called an aura anymore. In Jon's vision, the man was a roiling mass of smoking, scarlet fire.

The aura around Euron was identical to the mute sailor Jon had seen outside. This confirmed once again that Euron could control those mutes directly, just as Jon controlled his ravens!

According to Willas, this guy had a whole ship full of "mute sailors," and he had brought thirty or forty of them into Highgarden.

Although Highgarden's defenses were tight, and Mace had deployed three thousand troops for the wedding security, in the heart of the castle where the powerful gathered, a few dozen highly trained men striking at once would be devastating.

They didn't necessarily need to draw swords. Arson, poison—it would be impossible to defend against everything.

Add to that the panic of the nobles and the blind confusion of their retinues... if Euron wanted to, he could easily create massive chaos.

And amidst that chaos, doing whatever he planned to do would be child's play.

Especially during the wedding, when all eyes were fixed on the bride and groom.

Jon had considered killing Euron on the spot the moment he saw him.

But looking at the situation now, that was clearly impossible. Euron was Mace's honored guest; Mace would protect him.

If Jon failed to kill him in one blow, he would be branded a madman.

Moreover, given the nature of skinchangers, if their physical body died, their soul would be permanently trapped in their animal companion.

But Euron... if his body died, his soul might just instantly respawn in another body!

The man was like a massive Kraken—cut off one tentacle, and there was always another!

Fortunately, Euron didn't know that Jon knew his true identity. There were still two days until the wedding. Jon could use that time to identify every single one of Euron's mute sailors.

Then, he would have his men mark them for death.

Since Euron planned to strike at the wedding, Jon would move then too.

He would strike first. Before anyone else could react, Euron would be finished.

And then, Jon could pay a visit to Euron's ship and see exactly what good things this guy had brought back from Valyria.