The Red Keep, Throne Room.
Robert Baratheon's roar seemed powerful enough to shake the menacing iron spikes from the Iron Throne.
"Assassin?!"
"In my city! In broad daylight! My son nearly nailed to a wall by a crossbow bolt?!"
He hauled his massive bulk up and kicked over the low table laden with wine cups in front of him.
Rich vintage wine mixed with shattered glass splattered across the floor.
"Search the whole city! Drag that damned assassin out for me! I want his head on a spike feeding the crows!"
Joffrey stood to the side, his face still pale.
But the look he gave Lynn was filled with fanatical worship.
"Father! It was Lynn who saved me! You must reward him heavily!"
Robert's gaze fell on Lynn. The tyrannical rage subsided slightly, replaced by undisguised appreciation.
"Good lad!"
Robert's hand, the size of a ham hock, slapped Lynn's shoulder heavily again.
"You saved my son's life!"
"What do you want! Name it!"
"Gold dragons? Fine steel? Women? If I have it, it's yours!"
Lynn's expression remained calm as he bowed slightly.
"Your Grace, I only did what I should."
He paused, his face seemingly paling a shade, his breathing growing slightly labored.
"To block that bolt just now, I used a secret technique that drains me greatly."
"I need to return to my chambers to rest and recover."
This explanation was entirely reasonable.
After all, that lightning-fast interception seemed beyond human capability to onlookers.
Attributing it to some mysterious "secret technique" made it easier to accept.
"Quick! Take him to rest!"
Robert's eyes lit up, and he immediately ordered the Kingsguard beside him.
"Find him the best room! Post guards! No one is to disturb him!"
Joffrey looked even more nervous: "Ser Lynn, you must rest well!"
He had unilaterally bestowed the title of "Ser" upon Lynn, though as Prince, he technically had the right.
Lynn nodded to the King and Prince, and under the "escort" of two Kingsguard, turned to leave the noisy Throne Room.
As he turned, he caught a glimpse of Petyr Baelish standing in the corner out of the corner of his eye.
The worry on Littlefinger's face was perfectly placed, but Lynn could catch the gloom hidden deep in his eyes—the shadow of a plan disrupted.
The game had only just begun.
Don't be impatient, Lord Baelish.
---
Red Keep, inside the tower bedroom assigned to Lynn.
Lynn locked the door and jammed a heavy chair firmly against it.
Outside the window, King's Landing was in chaos due to the assassination attempt. Gold Cloaks were searching house to house.
Lynn knew they would find nothing.
That assassin was likely hiding in some filthy corner of Flea Bottom right now, waiting for the wind to blow over before fleeing the city, never to return.
Lynn sat cross-legged on the bed and rolled his eyes back.
The world instantly fell silent.
His terrifying 25 points of Spirit surged like a tide within his consciousness.
The assassin's "coordinates" had long been locked by his Greensight.
Skinchanger (Mastery)!
Hummm—
His consciousness was instantly extracted!
Lynn's spirit transformed into an invisible thread, passing through the stone walls of the Red Keep, over the noisy streets, and piercing precisely into a reeking, cheap inn in Flea Bottom to the south of the city.
Found you, little rat!
A scrawny man was curled up under a bed, shaking like a leaf.
The fear of failure and resentment toward his employer intertwined in his mind, making his mental defenses as fragile as paper.
Lynn's consciousness breached them effortlessly!
The scrawny man's body went rigid, his eyes instantly becoming vacant.
In the next second, that vacancy was replaced by an absolute calm and madness.
Lynn opened his eyes.
He controlled this "new" body and crawled out from under the bed.
He didn't run.
He walked to a cracked mirror, looked at the stranger's face, and grinned a grotesque smile.
Then, Lynn turned, pushed open the door, and strode purposefully in one direction.
The Red Keep.
---
Inside the Throne Room, the atmosphere remained heavy.
King Robert's rage had not yet subsided. He was grabbing members of the Small Council, discussing how to strengthen the city's defenses.
Queen Cersei Lannister had also hurried over upon hearing the news.
Gone was her usual elegance. She spoke anxiously to the King, her face full of grief and anger, then comforted her frightened son with the gentlest of tones.
Jaime Lannister, clad in white armor, stood silently beside the Iron Throne.
His short golden hair shone in the torchlight, but his green eyes held a complexity no one could read as he looked at Cersei and Robert.
Just then.
BANG!
The heavy oak doors of the Throne Room were smashed open from the outside!
A ragged, foul-smelling, scrawny figure charged in like a rabid dog!
"Assassin!"
The two nearest Gold Cloaks didn't even have time to react before the figure knocked them aside with suicidal abandon.
Lynn held a dagger in his hand, his target clear—King Robert on the Iron Throne!
The Throne Room instantly descended into chaos!
Screams from the ladies erupted everywhere!
"Protect His Grace!"
Ser Barristan Selmy roared, drawing his sword.
But someone was faster!
Jaime Lannister!
He moved the instant Lynn charged in.
A golden blur, like a lightning bolt, instantly interposed itself before Robert.
He didn't even draw his sword. With a clean sidestep, he used his vambrace to precisely deflect Lynn's dagger.
Simultaneously, his right leg kicked out with lightning speed, striking Lynn's knee.
CRACK!
A sickening sound of bone fracture.
Lynn screamed, losing his balance and crashing heavily onto the cold marble floor.
Before he could struggle, several swords were pressed firmly against his neck and back.
Crisis averted.
The whole process happened in the blink of an eye.
King Robert was still leaning forward, his cloudy eyes filled with shock and lingering fear.
He was drunk; numbed by alcohol, he hadn't even reacted to what happened.
He had nearly been killed by a bug from Flea Bottom.
"Speak! Who sent you!"
A Gold Cloak pressed his sword point to Lynn's throat, shouting sternly.
Lynn lay on the floor, his body convulsing violently from the pain, blood frothing from his mouth.
He raised his head with difficulty, looking past the crowd, fixing his gaze dead on the beautiful blonde woman in fine clothes standing beside the throne.
Cersei Lannister.
Using the last of his strength, he let out a shrill, raspy scream.
"It... it was the Queen!"
"Queen Cersei sent me!"
"She told me to kill Joffrey too!"
"She... she promised me... gold and lands..."
"For... for the Lannisters!"
Before he could finish, the longsword in Jaime's hand thrust down without hesitation.
Lynn withdrew his consciousness just before death arrived; he didn't want his Spirit to suffer severe trauma.
The pitiful assassin was executed directly before he even understood what was happening.
As the sword precisely pierced the assassin's heart.
Blood stained the golden lion cloak of House Lannister.
The Throne Room fell into a deathly silence.
You could hear a pin drop.
Everyone's eyes converged on Cersei Lannister.
The elegance and concern on Cersei's face froze completely.
She looked blankly at the cooling corpse on the floor, then at the gazes around her—a mix of shock, suspicion, and scrutiny.
Her beautiful blue eyes were full of confusion.
Her mind was blank.
The Queen?
Me?
When did I send someone to assassinate Robert?
And how could I possibly order the assassination of my own son?
In the corner of the crowd, the face of Petyr Baelish, usually wearing a playful smile, instantly lost all color.
Cold sweat soaked his back in seconds.
Of course he knew who this assassin was.
His carefully placed pawn, his brilliant plan to drive the tiger to swallow the wolf...
How did it turn into this?
Why would this assassin try to kill Robert?
And why... would he implicate Cersei?
Impossible!
This defies logic!
It was as if an invisible ghost was disrupting his board.
A chill from the depths of his soul made his body tremble uncontrollably.
First Bran, then the attempt to lure Ned into investigating Arryn's death... why did everything end up going wrong?
No, this is grave. I must destroy all evidence immediately!
"CERSEI—!!!"
A roar like a wounded beast shattered the silence.
Robert Baratheon's bloodshot eyes glared dead at his Queen.
The killing intent in that gaze was almost tangible!
Up in the tower, Lynn snapped his eyes open.
He heard the roar echoing through the Red Keep.
He slowly exhaled a breath of stale air, the corners of his mouth curling up uncontrollably.
He had considered controlling Jaime to attack Robert.
But with his current Spirit and Skinchanger level, controlling Jaime just to have sex with Cersei had been a strain; attacking the King would be too risky. He ultimately abandoned the idea.
Failure would only make them vigilant.
Besides, he didn't want a full-scale war between the Stag and the Lion just yet.
That would trap him here. His forces were insufficient to farm experience points effectively, and Daenerys was still waiting for him across the Narrow Sea.
The priority was still to go to Essos, abduct Daenerys, and raise an army. That was the safer path.
Littlefinger, you played your cards well.
Now, it's my turn.
You wanted a war between the Lion and the Wolf?
Then I'll start by driving a wedge between the Stag and the Lion.
Let's see you choke on that.
---