Chapter 51 Storm

The air was filled with an unpleasant smell. Hundreds of people gathered at the gate of the city, watching the statues of the Seven Gods being burned. The raging fire set off layers of heat waves.

An uneasy atmosphere permeated the sky above the entire coast.

The red-robed woman prayed by the fire, and Lady Selyse followed and repeated the prayer. Stannis, the Duke of Dragonstone, looked at them expressionlessly as they prayed to the God of Light. He had a short beard, a face as hard as iron, and a calm expression, with no joy or anger.

Donal Noye, the master blacksmith of the Great Wall, once commented on him, saying that "Stannis is pure iron, black, hard and strong, but also easy to damage. Like iron, it will break before it bends." This master blacksmith was once a subordinate of the Baratheon family. He grew up watching the three brothers of the Baratheon family. The eldest brother, Robert, was real steel, while the third brother, Renly, was bright copper, flashy and superficial.

The temple of Dragonstone was overthrown by the queen's party, and they will welcome a new god from a foreign land, the Lord of Light 'R'hllor'.

When the flames wrapped around the wooden statues and turned them into charcoal, smoke rose to the sky.

The red-robed woman Melisandre said loudly, "Azor Ahai, favored by R'hllor! Warrior of light! Son of the Holy Flame! Come! Your sword is waiting for you! Pull out your sword!"

Stannis rolled up his leather cloak and rushed into the flames, pulled out the flaming sword, and then rushed out quickly. The servants slapped the sparks on his body, and the flames burned on his gloves. He cursed and inserted the sword into the muddy ground.

The red-robed woman and Lady Selyse were still cheering for the Son of Flame. Stannis took off his gloves and threw them on the ground. Obviously, his patience had been exhausted. He pulled his wife Selyse back to the Dragonstone Castle.

After the flames burned all the wooden sculptures of the Father, the Virgin, the Warrior, and the Girl, only a trace of fireworks was still rising from the embers.

Some people in the crowd looked depressed, while others were moved. Some cried, while others laughed.

Several merchants in Essos were whispering, and some said, "That is not the Holy Flame Sword at all."

Some people wondered why he dared to say that.

I only heard that person say, "The real Messenger of Light was forged by Azor Ahai after a hundred days and a hundred nights in the temple. Before that, he even failed three times. According to the red-robed monks, he used his wife's heart blood as a trigger to forge the holy sword."

"Didn't it insert into the heart?" someone corrected.

"Who knows? Every red-robed monk has a different story."

Suddenly, a thunderclap exploded in the sky, and dark clouds appeared on the sea.

Some people were making noises in the crowd, saying that the Seven Gods were angry.

Seeing the storm coming, the crowd dispersed faster.

Rumble, a roar came from the horizon, and at this time, the sea was surging.

A vortex was brewing, and the dark clouds on the horizon were like a monstrous beast with a bloody mouth, swallowing the world. White snakes were surging inside one after another. The distant sky was like the wrath of the gods, and the thunders made people tremble.

A lightning shot on the rock wall, blasting countless rubble, and the waves were like the palms of giants beating wildly.

In the thunder, a raft swayed in the sound of the waves, and a wave was lifted, almost swallowed by the sea water.

In an instant, a thunderbolt broke through the air, like a thunder dragon above the nine heavens, hitting the raft, and the wood that had been soaked in water for a long time suddenly ignited a flame, and another thunderbolt struck again.

The waves at the port of Dragonstone were fierce, and the warships swayed and shook constantly.

Some people couldn't help but worry whether their fleet would be overturned by the storm. Stannis also stayed up all night. In front of him was an endless coast. He could see the lightning and thunder, and the misty clouds.

On the high tower of the Red Castle in King's Landing, Varys, who was large and wearing a velvet silk robe, was also looking at the storm. This storm affected not only Dragonstone, but also King's Landing.

Thinking of the father and daughter who had just set out to sea, Varys couldn't help but sigh.

Cole didn't know how long he had been climbing. The front seemed endless, and the environment beside him was also changing. From the bloody hell at the beginning, to the misty Fairy Palace later, from the pyramids full of dead people to the black-robed shadow waving a huge sickle, all the horror and prosperity he knew were revealed one by one, and he even saw the towering buildings and the busy streets.

He was too tired. Every time he climbed a foot, he had to rest for a long time. Suddenly, snowflakes fell around him, and a little bit of white stars scattered and fell on his shoulders, bringing a little chill.

Stop, and bury yourself in the cold snow. He came to this world in the snow and wind, and will go with the snow and wind.

He wanted to let go of his hand holding the chain, but there was a voice in his heart that kept dissuading him. Suddenly, the sound of horse hooves rang, and the snow and wind became more rapid. The flying frost made him almost unable to open his eyes. The horse hooves were getting closer and closer. When the fog dispersed, he saw a knight covered in ice and snow, with blue crystal eyes and armor made of ice crystals. He was riding on an undead warhorse, surrounded by blizzards.

Cole, who was used to seeing fear, couldn't help but feel cold. It was a white walker!

The knight on the horse slowly stretched out his hand, as if inviting him. There was no color in the blue eyes, and there was only endless coldness.

Cole stretched out his hand for some reason, and the two fingers were only a few millimeters apart. The knight suddenly raised his head and looked at the sky.

Boom, thunder, and a new storm came. Flames and lightning surged between heaven and earth, blasting away the ice and snow, and blasting away the fog.

A roar that seemed to come from ancient times, the sound echoed back and forth, like the sound of a huge ancient bell cleansing the world.

Countless lightnings exploded throughout the space and time, arcs of electricity covered like a cage, and the ice knight waved the sharp black ice in his hand, like a long-range javelin that rushed into the sky.

Lightning surrounded the dark clouds, flashing in waves, reflecting an extremely huge body.

Suddenly, a devastating fire gushed out from the black clouds, enveloping the ice spear and the undead knight.

Snap, the explosion seemed to explode in Cole's ears, and he was instantly dizzy. The iron chain in front of him shattered, and he fell sharply.

A huge shadow flew out of the smoky clouds, and he only felt that he was soaked in warm spring water in a daze.

He opened his eyes with difficulty, and found that he was in a dark and narrow space, with a sticky unknown liquid under him. Cole wanted to raise his hand to touch it, but found that his body was out of control.

It was a pair of eagle claw-like palms, with thin film-like flesh wings connected between the arm hammers. Cole saw himself using his head to hit the wall. Bang, bang, bang, the eggshell-like thing did not seem to change at all.

It kept hitting and hitting, and Cole himself felt anxious.

Finally, after the unremitting collision, a ray of light penetrated into his eyes, and a thunderous lightning pierced the sky like a sword.

Above the rolling waves, between a raft, in countless thunder and lightning, in the raging fire, a thunder roared like countless war drums, covering all the sounds of the world, and also covering up a gradually rising breath.

After the lightning and thunder fell, the world seemed to stop its anger, and a trace of moonlight appeared in the foggy sky. The vast stars sparkled in the night sky. In the legend of Dothraki, they were one after another galloping fierce horses.

And among the stars, a red meteor was like a blood mark engraved on the curtain of the sky.