Chapter 57
Top-Tier Intellectual Battle
Chapter 57 Top-Tier Intellectual Battle
Red Castle.
The king's bedroom was burning hot, so hot it was suffocating.
But Joffrey felt a chill run through his body, a chill that seeped from his very bones.
He held Robert's hand, still unable to believe that it had really happened.
It was like a chaotic nightmare.
All he remembered was that there was a lot of blood flowing there.
A lot of blood.
Robert's, wild boar's, all mixed together, dyed the clearing a dark red.
He tried his best to manipulate the wild boar's thoughts and enter its consciousness.
Then he felt his whole body being pierced by spears, and his head being smashed to pieces by a sharp knife.
By the time he came to his senses, Robert was already pinned under the boar, his face as white as a sheet.
Then came the mad dash.
Stretcher, horseshoes, bumpy road.
Joffrey rode beside him, watching drops of blood seep from the bandages and fall onto the dust.
Robert kept his eyes closed.
Occasionally, he might twitch his fingers or mumble a curse.
The door opened.
Robert opened his eyes and gently beckoned with his finger.
"Ned, come here quickly."
Joffrey gave up his seat and stood silently to the side.
Ed strode across the room and then abruptly stopped in front of Robert.
He could hardly believe what he was seeing.
Robert, who had been full of energy not long ago, now lay limply on the bed, like an empty shell.
"Oh my god—" Ed's throat felt like it had been clamped by pliers, "What—?"
"A damned demon," Robert hissed, his face pale.
He took a couple of breaths, his chest heaving with difficulty.
"I thought that guy was dead, so I didn't move away—but it turned out to be—cough cough."
The blanket was lifted.
Grand Secretary Paisell did his best to stitch the wound back together, but the gruesome scar was still a shocking sight.
"It stinks. Cover it up again." Robert frowned.
"Oh my god—I'm really in trouble this time."
He grinned, revealing a blood-red smile.
"But I didn't let it get away with it—I smashed its eyes with a sharp knife."
"Isn't that right? — Say it!"
"Yes." Renly was covered in sweat. "That beast broke the spear and shoved its fangs into my brother's stomach."
"We've stuck several spears in it, but this thing is still pushing forward."
"In the end, my brother smashed its brains to pieces, and that beast finally died."
"Even if he's dead, it won't do—cough cough, did you bring the body back?" Robert looked at Renly.
"Prepare dinner immediately." He seemed to want to laugh, but the pain turned it into a muffled groan. "You all have to eat it."
His gaze slowly swept around the room.
Finally, it fell on Cersei.
"You have to eat too."
He reached out, wanting to touch her face.
The hand trembled in mid-air, and Cersei quickly grasped it and pressed it against her face.
Robert suddenly laughed.
That smile was strange; it wasn't mockery or anger, but a kind of relief I'd never seen before.
"You stinky woman." He coughed twice. "For the past ten years or so, you've annoyed me, and I've annoyed you too."
"When I hit you, you must have thought—I might as well just stab me to death."
"But—cough cough—but never mind." Robert's hand slid off her face.
"You'll never have to see me again—aren't you happy?"
Cersei's eyes reddened.
"Robert—darling—" she whispered, her voice choked in her throat.
"And you."
Robert took a breath and turned his gaze to Renly.
The king's younger brother quickly came forward.
"How old are you? Stop wasting your time." Robert paused, his chest heaving. "Get married and have some kids."
"Also, don't keep arguing with Stannis—he's not a bad person, he just has a bad temper."
Lan Li nodded blankly.
"And you—you old geezer."
Paisell walked over, trembling.
"You've done your best." Robert squeezed his fingers, his voice growing weaker.
"This is all my own doing, I don't blame you."
"Please don't blame him for this."
Paisell opened his mouth: "Your Majesty—"
He looked at Robert, his expression almost tearful.
"Xiao Qiao, come here too."
Joffrey walked to the bedside.
Robert looked at him, his gaze suddenly becoming very complicated.
There was pride, reluctance, guilt, and something else I couldn't quite put my finger on.
"I see it." Robert blinked deeply.
"That's not luck—that's fate."
"You're made for be king."
He reached out and tried to ruffle Joffrey's hair.
The hand was raised very slowly, as if each inch of the hand was being lifted was an exhaustion of all the strength in the body.
Joffrey immediately lowered his head.
"Don't follow my example." He rubbed his thumb against Joffrey's hair.
"Don't be like me—I lived my whole life only to find out at the end that I had lived the wrong life."
His hand slipped down.
"Alright—get out, everyone."
"Get out, get out." Robert closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling slightly. "I need to talk to Ned—about something private."
"Come back later."
"I—" Cersei began.
"You go out too." Robert didn't open his eyes.
His voice still carried his usual stubbornness, but it sounded so weak it seemed to come from a very far place.
"Just this little bit—can't you even wait a moment?"
The door closed gently.
In the corridor, everyone stood in silence.
Only Renly paced back and forth, a dazed look on his face.
"My brother will be alright." His voice was weak. "He will definitely be alright."
He turned to Paisell and grabbed his arm.
"Don't you think so? He'll get better!"
Paisell stumbled as he was pulled, nodding frantically in response, "Yes, yes, yes—yes, yes, yes—"
Joffrey leaned against the wall, saying nothing.
He kept replaying the memory in his mind, savoring the last look Robert gave him.
And the weight of that hand landing on his head.
I just felt empty inside and didn't want to do anything.
Time passed by, second by second.
The door finally opened.
Ed stood in the doorway.
His expression was very calm.
It was as calm as a stagnant pool.
"His Majesty summoned you in." His voice was wooden, as if he had just swallowed a mouthful of dry firewood.
The crowd rushed in.
Cersei, Renly, and Paisell served as witnesses.
They stood by the bed and watched as Robert laboriously picked up the Royal Seal and pressed it onto the hot, yellow wax clay that Ed had dripped onto the parchment.
"Wait—cough cough—wait until I'm gone—" Robert closed his eyes, his voice so soft it was almost inaudible.
"Initiated by the Imperial Council."
"Now—give me something to stop the pain—I want to sleep."
one day.
Two days.
Three days.
into the night.
The Red Castle was shrouded in solemn silence.
The servants walked on tiptoe, afraid of making a sound.
The torches in the corridor have all been replaced with candles, and the candle wax drips down like solidified tears.
Everyone fell into deep mourning.
Because it's today.
King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men; ruler of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the entire realm.
Robert I of House Baratheon.
he----
he's gone.
He abandoned the entire kingdom and left.
in other words.
Robert the fuck abandoned the whole kingdom.
He's gone.
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