Game of Thrones: I Became a Crown Prince For a Day Chapter 621

Chapter 621 Belron and the Children of the Forest

Riverland, noble heart.

This place is located on a high hill in the Riverlands, between Riverrun, Harrenhal, and the Pink City.

Halfway up the mountain, a team with three red dragon flags set up camp.

“Kermit, it's your turn to play your cards.”

In a tent, three and a half boys gathered in a circle to play cards.

The red-haired boy whose name was called had a troubled expression on his face and looked back and forth at the other two people.

“Hurry up and play your cards, we're going to have dinner later.”

Berron smiled and urged his new friends.

“Yes, yes, play the card.”

Another short boy with black hair and black eyes responded from the side, with a shy smile on his face.

If you look carefully, you can find that there is always a trace of unbearable restlessness hidden under the harmless baby face.

“Don't rush me, Ben!”

Kermit threw a card, raised his leg and kicked his friend.

Benjikou screamed in pain and hid behind the crown prince naively.

“Don't bully him, you cunning fish.”

Berron likes the introverted Benjikou, while teasing Kermit, who has similar interests.

Among the three boys, the other boy is the oldest, already 19 years old.

Grandfather is the late old Duke Tully, and his father is the current Duke of Riverrun, Elmont Tully.

Benjikou next to him is not simple either. He comes from an ancient family in the Riverlands - Blackwood.

Father is Samwell Blackwood.

He is two years older than Verron and has just turned 12 years old this year.

The three boys played a round of cards. Harwin Strong, known as the "Bone Crusher", opened the curtain and said humorously: "You three, it's time to eat."

"good."

Berlon stood up, clapped his hands, and took the lead.

Kermit followed from the left and said, "I'm going to find Oscar, and we'll continue playing cards later."

That's his younger brother, who has just turned 16 years old.

Father Almon left an order that he must become a good friend of the prince.

He thought this was unnecessary, as the Crown Prince was already a person worth getting to know.

Oscar would think so too.

That night.

The moon and stars are sparse, and dark clouds cover the sky.

Berron was lying in the tent, his head resting on someone's thigh, and he fell asleep in a daze.

The boys played very late and even hunted together after dinner.

They are all very tired.

A wisp of cool night wind blew through the curtain, brushing against my face like a palm.

Berron frowned and turned to avoid the tent door.

However, this is far from enough.

Suddenly, the surrounding air seemed to be quiet.

Berron seemed to feel something and opened his eyes in a daze.

Before his vision was clear, there was a vague and strange murmur in his ears.

The murmurs ranged from loud to small, thick and thin, just like ten thousand people whispering in the ear.

“What's the sound?”

Berron, sleepy-eyed, stood up and crawled out of the tent.

“Quack, quack, quack…”

There was silence all around, except for a dark crow standing on the top of the tree.

Berron felt like he was in another world, walking on the mountainside step by step.

I don't know how long it took, but my vision suddenly widened.

On the high mountain top, thirty-one weirwood tree stumps formed a circle, like a strange altar.

“Run away quickly, someone is coming…”

“There are people with swords…”

Just when Belron saw his surroundings clearly, the whisper in his ears suddenly expanded and appeared like a sharp roar.

The next moment, a biting night wind blew, completely knocking away sleepiness.

In the darkness in the distance, clusters of fire suddenly appeared.

“Who is here, and who are you?”

Berron was so blown by the wind that he couldn't open his eyes. He could only see the torches and figures gradually touching the foot of the mountain through the gap in his arms.

Tap tap tap…

At this moment, slight footsteps came from behind.

Berron quickly turned back, his eyes widened.

Under the dim night, the weirwood tree stumps in a circle looked like wordless tombstones, exuding a sense of eeriness and weirdness.

A short figure flashed past and burrowed into one of the weirwood tree stumps.

Berron rubbed his eyes vigorously to confirm that he had seen correctly.

He saw clearly.

That figure just now was definitely not human.

He is less than four feet tall, covered in green bark armor, and wears a helmet inlaid with huge antlers.

In his hand, he holds a spear that is a combination of stone and wooden stick, primitive and simple.

Before Belron opened his mouth, the whisper in his ear immediately disappeared.

I wanted to hear those inexplicable sounds again, but there was only the howling of the night wind and the chirping of insects.

“What is that, a half-man?”

Berlon was still young and still had the illusion of seeing a dwarf.

But the disappearing little figure proved that the gnomes had no magic to drill into the weirwood stumps.

“Who else is coming?”

Berron was confused and quickly turned back to look at the fire at the foot of the mountain.

Densely packed, like ants crawling.

He accepted his father's mission and traveled all the way from the King's Road to Harrenhal, Riverrun, and Raventree City.

I passed by Noble Heart tonight and will go to Pink City tomorrow morning.

“No, they are coming for me!”

Berron was startled and ran towards the camp halfway up the mountain.

Running along the road and shouting to alert the patrolling soldiers that there are enemies.

The third watch in the middle of the night.

“Kill! The eldest son of the Young Dragon King is at the top of the mountain!”

“Cut off the crown prince's head and let the **** king have a long memory…”

The night wind blew fiercely, swaying the clumps of firelight under the night sky.

　　The insurrectionary army, whose number was unclear, rushed towards Noble Heart and hacked and killed the team composed of the Royal Guards and the Knights of the Riverlands indiscriminately.

The latter numbered less than a hundred people, and they were defeated in a one-sided manner.

Inside the camp.

Berlon was panting and stayed with the boys.

“Prince, you have to evacuate from the back mountain.”

Leonor looked solemn and pulled out the two-handed broadsword that he had not used for a long time.

"Who is the other party?" Belron is still calm, and he can hear the accent of someone from the river.

Leonor said in a deep voice: "They are those who oppose your father."

After saying that, he opened the curtain and stared at Samwell Blackwood who was guarding the door.

“What are your orders, sir?”

Samwell's eyes are deep and his posture is as straight as a sword.

Leonor did not hesitate and said solemnly: "Protect the crown prince, I have sent a message to Harrenhal to send reinforcements."

“Don't worry.”

Samwell was not sloppy at all. He entered the door and grabbed the confused Baelon, and threw a long sword to his only son Benjikor.

“Give me a sword.”

Kemit looked ferocious, worried about his father who was leading an army to resist.

His sword was in his tent, and he had no weapon in his hand.

Samwell glanced at him, pulled out a dagger and threw it out: "Follow me."

A group of people rushed out of the camp, shuttled through the war-torn camp, and fled along the back mountain.

The sounds of fighting and screams could be heard behind him, echoing in the deep midnight.

Berlon turned around hastily and looked at a circle of weirwood tree stumps on the top of the mountain.

Until now, he could not hide the shock in his heart.

Someone wanted to kill him, but an inexplicable "person" reminded him.

“There is someone here, come with me!”

Several rebels with unfamiliar accents ran into each other, drew their bows and fired a burst of arrows.

Hang! Bang!

Samwell swung his sword to block the flying arrows.

The strange thing is that the opponent's archery skills are first-rate and he is still very accurate under the cover of night.

Not at all like the level of the people from the riverlands.

Berlon had a good eye and saw from a distance that the boots of the rebels were covered with a thick layer of salt stains.

It is a dead block that has been swirling in the sea all year round, and the salt has penetrated and solidified.

An arrow flew past, grazing his cheek and leaving a **** gash.

“Protect the prince!”

Samwell shouted loudly, picked up his sword and stepped forward alone.

Kemit then charged, throwing a small dagger and hitting one of the rebels in the thigh.

An unfair melee started.

“This is silver hair!”

Two rebels were stopped, and two others rushed towards the helpless boys.

Oscar was hit by an arrow and fell to the ground wailing.

“Cut off his head and someone will give us money in exchange.”

One of the rebels put down his bow and arrow and took out a serrated scimitar.

“You are an ironborn!”

Berron retreated slowly, staring intently.

“So what?”

The Ironborn laughed wildly, sticking out his tongue to lick his chapped lips.

“Stop talking nonsense and do it.”

Another iron type had a sinister look in his eyes, and he quickly stepped forward to grab the bounty in his hand.

Berron breathed quickly and held the Clan Sword Dragon Claw on his lower back.

Just wait for an opportunity and chop off the opponent's head with one sword.

“Boy, say goodbye to your king.”

The iron type is full of jealousy and stretches out his big hands with mud-covered nails.

At the critical moment.

“Get away! You stinky fish eater!”

Benjikou, who had been trembling all the time, suddenly changed his expression, and his dark eyes revealed an almost crazy red light.

As soon as the roar came out, he picked up a stone and flew forward.

　　Bang!

The iron type raised a knife to block him, but the next second his head was smashed by a stone. His cheeks were mixed with blood and his brain was a mess.

Benjikou rolled on the ground, his scimitar stuck in his shoulder blades, and he got up quickly like a wild beast.

“Hey, **** iron type!”

Spitting out a mouthful of blood, Benjikou's baby face showed a ruthless look, and the corners of his mouth curved into a bloodthirsty arc.

He was like a monster that had been suppressed for a long time and pounced on another iron type again.

“Freak boy.”

The iron type was shocked and hurriedly picked up the bow and arrow.

A sharp long sword is pierced into the lower body, pulling and pulling out the roots of troubles.

"ah!"

Tie Zhong's eyes were about to burst and he let out a heart-piercing scream.

Berlon held the dragon claw in his hand and pierced the opponent's raised chin again.

Blood sprayed out in a splash, and the sword covered with water ripples penetrated the skull and poked straight out from the back of the head.

“Let's go help Earl Sam.”

The first time he killed someone, Bellon's pupils trembled wildly, and he wanted to join the fight when he called Benjikou.

"No!"

Benjikou's eyes widened and he dragged the crown prince and continued running down the mountain.

“What are you doing, we have to help.”

Berron is in a hurry.

"no!"

Benjikor gritted his teeth and roared like an ox: "Let's go to Harrenhal."

The scarlet red in his eyes has not faded, but he still remains rational.

Berron struggled to get away, and took advantage of the darkness to get into the bushes and go down the mountain.

Looking back, I saw a fire spreading on the mountain.

Hush, it seems like you can hear the sound of a sharp blade piercing flesh.

When he turned back, a little fire appeared in the distance, accompanied by the roar of war horses.

The cavalry ranks at the front, waving silver trout flags on red and blue striped ground.

At the same time, the light of dawn shone, dispersing the coldness and dark clouds of the night.

Berron was stunned and swallowed a mouthful of saliva to moisten his throat.

At dawn, reinforcements arrived.

In a blink of an eye, one month later.

Junlin, dragon's lair.

“Hiss!”

Sylax crawled on the ground, stretched his neck and roared.

“Quiet, Sylax.”

Honglong people gathered around to calm the emotionally sensitive golden beast.

Some distance away, there is a dark dragon pit.

“Ahem…”

Rhaegar crawled out in disgrace, covering his mouth and nose and coughing.

"How about it?"

Rhaenyra squatted beside the dragon pit and asked nervously.

“Well done.”

Rhaegar panted heavily, with a smile on his face: "There are six dragon eggs, two of which have broken shells."

(End of this chapter)

Chapter end

Report