No matter how powerful a wizard is, their expertise is limited to the realm of mysticism. In other aspects, such as eating, drinking, defecating, birth, aging, sickness, and death, they are still just ordinary mortals with flesh and blood.
In this world, there are two major schools of thought. One school is hard science, and that is the City of Knowledge in Oldtown. Every kind of knowledge within the City of Knowledge is solid science.
The scholars of the Citadel study architecture, metallurgy, medicine, botany, astronomy, geography, astrology, seasons... Each nobleman has a scholar who has passed the Citadel's rigorous examinations by his side.
Scholars were responsible for solving all the problems that nobles encountered in their lives that required knowledge, essentially serving as all-around life advisors.
Completely opposite to the scientific knowledge possessed by scholars is mysticism.
Mysticism includes prophecy, magic, apotheosis (distinct from that of scholars), theology, psychic arts, and so on.
The knowledge and teachings of the mystical cannot be understood using the knowledge and teachings of the academic world, nor can they be explained using scientific knowledge, because they are completely inexplicable.
Those who practice mysticism include wizards, priests, silent sisters, pastors, monks, sorcerers, shadow casters, bishops, monks, aliens, green prophets, and so on.
Gregor Clegane, plotting to change his fate, needed capable individuals to join his cause. He, along with Jenny and Earl Gavin, sought out the witch, appealing to her emotions and reasoning with her, but she remained unmoved. Her reaction to Jenny and Earl Gavin was even colder, showing no trace of familial affection.
Gregor said, "Grandmother, don't you want to go to the Seven Holy Sepulchre in Clegane?"
That's not my home.
This is not your home either.
"I've gotten used to it here."
"You'll get used to it better in a different place. You need someone to take care of your food, clothing, and shelter. Grandmother, you're getting old."
"The people chosen by God do not fear old age and death."
"Uh… well… alright!" Gregor said. "Grandmother, will your god tell you what I will do next?"
The witch's murky yellow eyes stared at Gregor through her long hair, her expression terrifying.
Her rejection of Gregor, Jenny, and Earl Gavin was obvious.
No wizard can know everything. Many wizards are only proficient in one area. For example, the fire sorcerers of King's Landing only study wildfire and know very little about other occult knowledge.
Wizards, due to their long hours researching various strange potions in laboratories, often lack physical exercise and are therefore quite weak. Older wizards, in particular, require extra care. These caregivers are typically wizard apprentices.
The wizards' combat strength is no different from that of ordinary people; any swordsman could easily cut down an entire group of them.
Gregor didn't stand up; instead, he gently lifted the witch across the table. The witch was furious, cursing through her lisp. But it was all in vain. Gregor gently embraced the witch, stood up, and walked towards the door.
The door was already closed, but Gregor didn't reach out to open it. He just strode over and smashed the door to pieces with a loud bang.
Jenny and Earl Gavin were dumbfounded!
Because of this "breaking out of the door", the witch's independent prefab house creaked and was on the verge of collapse.
Jenny and Earl Gavin rushed out, fearing the wooden house would collapse at any moment.
Gregor placed the witch, who was cursing him through gritted teeth, onto the carriage. The witch immediately struggled to get off, but Gregor stopped her with a hand.
Gregor's hand was an insurmountable wall for the witch.
Gregor said respectfully to the witch, "Grandmother, you may curse me, but you must not get out of the carriage. Otherwise, I will burn all your potions and your house to the ground. All your neighbors on this street will be punished by me."
The table full of potion bottles and the pile of potion ingredients in the corner of the wall were like the witch's lifeblood. The witch was getting old, and in her daily life, she couldn't do without the kind help of her neighbors on this street.
The witch was startled and, as expected, dared not get out of the carriage. She stepped back and sat back down, gesturing wildly and cursing Gregor. In the end, she cursed her dead husband and two sons, her granddaughters Hebe and Rover, Samwell, her grandson-in-law Earl Gavin, her great-granddaughter Jenny, and so on.
Twenty-two years ago, when Cersei Lannister was ten years old, she threatened to burn down the witch's house and hang her from a tree to force the witch to reveal Cersei's prophecies about the future. This demonstrates that the witch's physical strength was practically zero. She may have some unknown methods of killing, but they certainly had nothing to do with physical strength. Perhaps due to some taboo, or perhaps because of the disappearance of dragons, she could not use her dark magic to kill indiscriminately.
In this world, with the complete disappearance of dragons, various magic scrolls and spells gradually lost their effectiveness, ultimately weakening magical power. This led to the complete decline of wizards from their dominant position. The maesters of the Citadel seized the opportunity to rise in status, their position growing ever higher. Maesters occupied positions such as the king's advisor and the assistants to nobles, and wizards were completely relegated to the upper echelons of politics and aristocratic power.
Gregor asked Earl Gavin to send a guard to hire an oxcart, and everyone worked together to load all the bottles, jars, flowers, and plants from the witch's room onto the cart. The witch dared not get off, and stood on Jenny's carriage, cursing and scolding everyone for the order in which they arranged her bottles and jars.
Miss Jenny stood aside, holding her kitten, amazed by her grandmother's volatile temper and inexhaustible energy for scolding.
Half an hour later, everything was packed up, and the witch was tired of scolding. Jenny didn't dare ride in the same carriage as the witch, so she got on Gregor's horse. Whenever Gregor went out on horseback, he usually had three horses to rotate.
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Gregor then ordered a guard to buy a small bucket of kerosene from a street shop. Amid the witch's tantrums and curses, Gregor poured the kerosene onto the roof of the witch's hut and then threw a torch up there.
The fire immediately raged, and everyone on the street carried buckets of water, but no one dared to put it out. Only when the fire spread and threatened to burn through the narrow alley and reach the neighboring houses did Gregor shout that it was time to leave.
So, a horse-drawn carriage and an oxcart began to drive out of the street, with eight guards standing on the left, right, front, and back, their hands on the hilts of their swords, and people scattered in disarray.
Gregor and Jenny rode side by side beside the witch's carriage.
After they left, everyone rushed to put out the fire. The flames were quickly extinguished, but the smoke had already risen into the sky.
The witch suddenly lifted the curtain, pointed at Greg and cursed, "You damned mountain, I want to eat snow salt roasted meat, and I will never use chopsticks when I eat. I will only use iron cutlery."
"Okay!" Gregor replied politely.
"I also want to wear silk clothes; the silk from Qarth is of the best quality."
"I will definitely send someone to buy you the finest silk from Qarth at the trading market in Lannisport. Grandmother, did you live in Qarth when you were young?"
The witch ignored Gregor's question: "Gregor, I also need three servants: one to grind, gather, brew, and taste medicine for me; one to wash and comb my hair, prepare bath water, wash clothes, and cook; and one to clean the sanctuary, clean the rooms, take care of the sanctuary torch, add holy oil, and assist during rituals and prayers."
"Grandmother, I will do whatever you say."
"I need another helper." The witch tossed her long hair aside, her pale yellow eyes making Jenny's heart flutter. "Gregor, your fiancée looks quite nice. Could you ask her if she'd be willing?"