Game of Thrones: Joffrey the Chosen

Chapter 56 The King of Wild Boars

Everyone was stunned.

Some people had their mouths open, while others stared wide-eyed.

Several devout believers even knelt down, clasped their hands together, and uttered silent prayers.

"good!"

It's unclear who shouted first.

"Long live!" "Long live!" "Long live!"

Cheers surged like waves, startling flocks of birds in the forest that swept across the sky in a dark mass.

Startled by the sudden commotion, the white deer raised its head, a hint of panic flashing in its dark eyes.

Joffrey quickly reached out and gently pressed his hand against the side of its neck.

That strange connection was re-established.

It quieted down.

Then he turned his head and looked at Joffrey.

His clear eyes were like a mountain stream, reflecting an age-old question.

What to eat?

Joffrey couldn't help but laugh.

He asked his attendant for a handful of salted barley crumbs, spread them in his palm, and offered them to the white deer's mouth.

It sniffed, then lowered its head and began to lick it gently.

"Come with me," Joffrey said softly. "There's plenty of good food."

I don't know if it understood.

After finishing its meal, it actually stood up and followed Joffrey closely.

Robert's gaze darted back and forth between Joffrey and the white stag.

"I've been hunting for half my life," he said, "and I've never seen anything like it."

Joffrey smiled at him.

"Father, how was the arrow I fired for you?"

"Hmm?" Robert strode over and examined the beast up close.

"What a load of rubbish!"

Even so, his eyes were surprisingly bright.

Robert reached out to touch the snow-white fur, but withdrew his hand halfway through.

It seemed afraid of startling it.

It also seemed as if they feared it was just an illusion, something that would dissipate at the slightest touch.

"Your Majesty!" a nobleman exclaimed excitedly, rushing forward. "The deer is the royal emblem!"

"Your Highness has tamed the white deer; this is a blessing from the gods!"

"Yes, yes, yes!" another nobleman quickly chimed in, "This is heaven watching over Baratheon!"

Robert glanced at the man and suddenly grinned.

People everywhere like auspicious omens.

"Well said!" he announced loudly. "Take this deer back and keep it in the gardens of the Red Castle!"

"Let everyone see that my son, Joffrey, has actually made the Kingsguard's White Stag submit to him!"

"Your Majesty is wise!" the crowd cheered in unison.

The sun's shadow slants to the west.

The hunting party set up camp in a clearing in the woods.

The crackling campfire ignited sparks that intertwined with the countless stars in the sky.

Joffrey fiddled with the bacon in the frying pan, which smelled delicious.

His eyes kept glancing at the white deer beside him.

The beast lay quietly to the side, its head resting on its front hooves, its black eyes half-open and half-closed.

I wonder if it really has some kind of spirituality.

Joffrey promised it that as long as it followed him, he would provide it with food and lodging, and it could even find several wives.

And then it just followed us all the way here.

After rubbing the deer's head a couple of times, a thought suddenly popped into Joffrey's mind.

It's good that you didn't run away.

otherwise----

"This venison is incredibly delicious! Quickly, take it to Lord Ed!"

Even with these thoughts in mind, Joffrey still couldn't relax.

He gazed at the campfire, listening to the rustling of the night wind through the trees.

Perhaps it was because of the white deer, or perhaps it was because of the crowd's extremely presumptuous cheers.

Or perhaps it was an inexplicable unease about what might happen to Robert next.

Joffrey experienced Bran's fall from the building.

He knew that some things couldn't be stopped just by wanting to.

Over the next few days, the team continued to wander through the forest.

The legendary bear never showed up.

The few wild boars they drove out were all small, and Robert didn't think much of them.

The group could only follow him as he scurried through the woods, listening to him grumble and complain.

Every time Lancer handed out a drink, Joffrey would check it first to make sure that the adulterated spirit was no longer present.

"Hunting is like fighting a war," Robert said suddenly after taking a swig.

Joffrey looked at him.

"You can tell a person's true nature by hunting." Robert gazed at the dense forest ahead, his voice unusually calm.

"Look at those who shout the loudest when they encounter wild boars; they're the first to flee when they actually get to the battlefield."

"Those who rush at the sight of prey are probably hotheads, and at most they'll survive three battles."

"A truly good hunter must know when to wait, when to charge, and when to retreat."

He turned his head and looked at Joffrey.

"You missed that arrow that day, did it on purpose?"

Joffrey was taken aback.

Robert grinned. "After all these years of hunting, do you think I can't tell?"

"Your arrow was meant to scare away the wolves, not to shoot the deer."

Joffrey paused for a moment, then nodded.

Robert patted him on the back.

Whether you pity it or admire it.

"But before you take action, you must think about the consequences and make sure you can control the situation."

He spurred the horse's belly.

"Let's go!"

"We absolutely have to find a big one today!"

Joffrey looked at the man in front of him and suddenly felt a little unfamiliar with him.

dusk.

They found a cave.

-

Robert only lasted three hours before his true colors were revealed.

When the big guy was driven out of its den, everyone gasped.

It was as big as a calf, with tusks over a foot long, bristling mane, and a pair of small eyes that gleamed menacingly.

The so-called giant bear has long since disappeared.

But this wild boar is ten times more terrifying than a bear.

Upon seeing this guy, Robert immediately forgot everything he had said not long ago.

"That's it!"

He dismounted and took the boar-hunting spear from his attendant.

Joffrey tried to stop him, but Robert dashed out in the blink of an eye.

"Get out of my way, this guy is mine!" he shouted loudly.

"Anyone who dares to come closer, I'll stab them to death first!"

The wild boar lowered its head, pawing the ground with its hind hooves, and let out a low, threatening growl.

Robert lowered his spear and slowly approached.

A man and a beast faced off in an open space.

At that moment, the wild boar moved.

It charged straight down with its head down, as if a knight on its back was guiding it forward.

"You beast!"

Robert laughed loudly and advanced instead of retreating.

Joffrey immediately mobilized the "compassionate and righteous" forces.

He wanted to influence the beast, to slow it down, to make it run away, to make it—

"Um!"

Joffrey's thoughts were jolted back to reality.

wrong!

This is no ordinary wild beast.

It has no thoughts in its mind.

There was no fear, no hesitation, only pure, primal madness, a desire to destroy everything.

Joffrey's pupils constricted.

But Robert, when sober, needs no one's intervention.

He thrust his spear precisely, piercing the wild boar above the front leg and cutting straight into its heart.

That was a fatal blow.

The timing, the angle, the force—everything was just right.

Just like sixteen years ago on the banks of the Trident, when he smashed his warhammer into Rhaegar's chest.

The wild boar let out a mournful squeal, its front legs buckled, and it collapsed to its knees.

Joffrey's heart, which had been clenched with anxiety, slowly calmed down.

Robert raised his left hand high, as if to welcome the cheers of the crowd.

"Crack!"

Suddenly, a crisp sound rang out.

The boar-hunting spear in his hand snapped in two.

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