Lynn's words had barely faded.
A plump figure slowly walked out.
Varys.
The Spider of King's Landing, his signature gentle smile, which seemed to encompass all secrets, was gone.
In its place was a complex expression of shock, confusion, and fanaticism.
He had heard everything just now.
He heard it all!
From Jaqen Hghar's plan to Lynn's ideal, which was enough to subvert the entire Westeros worldview... not a single word was missed.
Lynn's words were not only for Jaqen but also for the eavesdropping Varys.
Varys repeatedly chewed on Lynn's words in his mind.
He had spent his entire life searching for a "wise ruler" for this decaying kingdom.
He once thought it would be Rhaegar Targaryen, but Rhaegar died at the Trident.
Then he placed his hopes on Robert, who overthrew the Targaryens, but Robert was a pig who only knew how to drink, chase prostitutes, and ignore state affairs.
As for Robert's son, Joffrey, don't be ridiculous; Joffrey a wise ruler? That would make all of Westeros laugh!
He had also placed hope in Rhaegar's surviving bloodline.
Whether it was the "beggar king" Viserys in Pentos, Daenerys, or the hidden "Aegon."
But they, ultimately, were merely continuations of the old order.
What they wanted was to reclaim what belonged to the iron throne, to rebuild an empire that was inherently corrupt.
They had never thought of bringing true change to the common people living in this land.
And Lynn before him... the "Great Unity" world he described.
The old would have an end, the strong would have use, the young would have growth, lost items would not be picked up on the road, doors would not be locked at night... no exploitation or oppression, no war or disparities, everyone would live in peace and contentment, and the old, young, sick, and disabled would all be cared for.
Selecting the virtuous and capable, promoting trustworthiness and harmony, with society managed by the virtuous and capable, without monarchical absolutism.
Transcending self-interest, advocating universal love and mutual assistance, achieving harmonious coexistence for the entire society... that was no longer a kingdom; that was a... divine realm.
An ideal land that existed only in the wildest dreams, one that even the Seven Gods had never promised.
Every word, every sentence, was not for the rulers, but for all common people!
What an ambition this was!
Varys looked at Lynn.
This young man, he had dragons, and power enough to overturn the war.
He had strategy, could easily see through people's hearts, and played with power.
Now, he also had a faith that was unprecedented, perhaps even never to be seen again.
A faith that could drive everyone mad.
What was he still hesitating for?
What was he still waiting for?
The so-called "prince who was promised"?
Aegon, who was still nowhere to be found?
No.
Those were all ethereal.
But Lynn before him was real.
Varys took a deep breath.
The hem of his expensive silk robe.
For the first time, and for the first time ever, touched the dusty ground.
He knelt on one knee.
He performed this action with utmost fluidity and piety.
He was no longer The Spider who manipulated everything from the shadows, but a devotee who had finally found his lifelong pursuit.
"My Lord."
"I have served the kingdom my entire life, and I thought I was serving the common people who struggled to survive."
"But only today do I understand that I was merely serving the kings who sat on the iron throne."
"I was merely keeping this decaying millstone turning, continuing to crush the flesh and blood of the innocent."
"My little birds brought me all the secrets of the Seven Kingdoms, but not a single secret could show me true hope like your words just now."
He looked up, and in his eyes, which were always hidden behind a gentle smile, tears shimmered as never before.
"Varys, I wish to serve you."
"My little birds will sing for you."
"They will clear all the thorns from your path until the world of Great Unity you speak of descends upon this land."
Lynn looked at Varys kneeling before him, with not much surprise in his heart.
A true idealist cannot refuse a nobler and more achievable ideal.
Varys's allegiance was inevitable.
He reached out and helped Varys up.
"I do need your help, Lord Varys."
"But not now."
"Don't rush, Lord Varys."
"For now, we are all just spectators."
Lynn's gaze seemed to penetrate layers of walls, landing on the highest royal bedchamber in the The Red Keep... Jaqen Hghar had changed into the most ordinary commoner's attire.
His ordinary face allowed him to blend perfectly into this chaotic and dirty district.
He sat cross-legged on the bed, his hands caressing the human skin mask of Stannis Baratheon.
In his mind, Lynn's "Great Unity" world still echoed.
What kind of realm was this?
A world without pain, without despair, without oppression.
In such a world, would the many-faced god still need to exist?
Would they, these servants of death, still need to bestow "release" upon those suffering souls?
For the first time, Jaqen's faith wavered.
They ended pain.
And Lynn wanted to eradicate pain.
Who was right?
Perhaps, both were right.
Or perhaps... Lynn's path was the ultimate path.
Perhaps, in such a world, the many-faced god would not need to exist.
Because the many-faced god, in essence, was a fabricated belief... But would those corrupt worms who had already tasted power create obstacles for Lynn?
Jaqen slowly exhaled.
He stopped thinking about these questions that could drive any Faceless Man to despair.
He was just an actor now.
An actor about to stage a monumental drama.
He slowly placed the cold mask on his face.
The mask seemed to come alive.
It perfectly merged with his flesh and bones.
His brow bones lifted, cheekbones protruded, the lines of his jaw became harder, and the corners of his mouth drooped from being constantly pursed.
He stood up and walked to the cracked copper mirror in the room.
In the mirror, a completely different face appeared.
It was the face of Stannis Baratheon.
Cold, rigid, full of unquestionable authority and a lingering trace of stubbornness.
But this was not enough.
Jaqen closed his eyes, and a memory not his own surged forth.
Stannis's gait, a stiff, upright stride unique to a warrior.
Stannis's tone of voice.
Every word seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth, carrying a cold, hard quality.
He even began to imitate Stannis's signature small gestures.
Unconsciously grinding his teeth when thinking.
When he opened his eyes again, he was no longer Jaqen Hghar.
He was Stannis Baratheon!
Lord of Dragonstone!
"Stannis" walked to the table, opened a parchment, and wrote on it.
To the loyal Davos:
The air in King's Landing is more suffocating than the sea breeze of Dragonstone.
The smell of decay is everywhere.
My 'benevolent' brother is indulging in wine and women.
His body is decaying faster than the honor of House Baratheon.
I see his end, and I see the future of the kingdom.
What rightfully belongs to me will soon return to its rightful owner.
Law and justice will ultimately triumph over chaos and desire.
Prepare the fleet.
When the stag falls, that will be the day we return to King's Landing.
A letter full of hints and ambition.
Every word revealed Stannis's arrogance and his obsession with his power.
The handwriting was so authentic that even Stannis himself would not be able to distinguish its authenticity.
Because, to some extent, Stannis himself had written this!
Jaqen sealed the letter with a forged wax seal engraved with the crowned stag sigil.
Then, he walked out of the house.
Unlike before, Jaqen changed into eye-catching, luxurious silk clothes and entered a tavern filled with all sorts of people.
In the tavern, a ragged boy was wiping tables.
The boy looked only seven or eight years old, as thin as a bean sprout, but his large eyes held an alertness beyond his age.
Jaqen ordered the most expensive wine and sat in an inconspicuous corner.
He deliberately took the letter from his embrace, read it again, and then, as if cherishing it greatly, tucked it back into his embrace.
But this time, he did not tuck it in tightly.
The edge of the envelope peeked out from under his luxurious outer garment.
Having done all this, he began to drink by himself.
Not long after, a drunken mercenary "accidentally" bumped into him.
Jaqen's body swayed.
The letter silently slipped to the ground, and a foot wearing worn straw sandals gently kicked it under the table.
A moment later, the boy wiping tables came over.
He bent down to wipe the wine stain on the floor with a rag, and the letter, which would determine the future direction of the kingdom, disappeared into his embrace.
The boy, like a slippery loach, sneaked out the back door and quickly disappeared into the labyrinthine alleys of Flea Bottom.
Lynn had already found Robert's informant for him.
Jaqen only needed to "deliver" it into the informant's hands.
Jaqen in the tavern drained the last drop of wine in his cup, a curve nobody could understand forming on his lips... Meanwhile, inside the The Red Keep, a piece of news spread like wildfire.
His Majesty the King was going hunting in the King'swood!
It was said that a legendary white stag had appeared in the forest.
Robert Baratheon swore to take its head with his own hands to prove that he was still in his prime.
The entire The Red Keep became busy because of this.
Robert Baratheon, wearing his hunting attire that barely fastened, looked spirited, surrounded by a crowd of people.
His face, swollen from debauchery and alcohol, bore a sickly flush.
"Bring me wine!"
He roared loudly.
Lancel Lannister quickly handed him a bulging leather wineskin.
Robert snatched it, twisted open the cap, and began to gulp it down.
The strong liquor flowed down his thick beard, soaking the front of his tunic.
On the balcony of the Tower of the Hand.
Lynn and Ned Stark stood side by side, overlooking the large hunting party about to depart below.
Ned had previously disagreed with the King going hunting.
Now, he no longer intended to stop him.
Lynn knew.
This might be the last time Robert Baratheon would breathe the air of King's Landing so freely in his life.
The horn sounded.
The hunting party marched out of the city gate in a grand procession, heading towards the lush King'swood.
The stag had already walked into the hunter's trap.
And the true hunters had just sharpened their claws.
When the tail of the hunting party disappeared from sight, Varys appeared behind Lynn.
"My Lord."
"The stag has entered the forest."
"King's Landing is already restless."
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