Chapter 145: Daenerys Targaryen

Hillel once again felt the surveillance of the gods.

This World did have gods.

It’s just that compared to those existences in the DC Universe that easily ascend dimensions, effortlessly blow out stars, and punch through the Universe with a single blow, the gods here did not manifest themselves as very powerful.

From the beginning of the Game of Thrones story, it was mainly a game between the Red God and The Great Other, with the believers of both sides fighting to the death on this continent for several thousand years.

In addition, there were the Drowned God, the God of Death... and other low-profile gods whose powers were not much to speak of either.

Hillel asked the system, "So you threw me here just to have me conquer this World? Aren’t you afraid of being targeted by the gods here?"

[Please host, conquer this World as soon as possible.]

"That settles it then!" Hillel grinned. "I’ll go get a few dragons to play with. If there’s no time limit, I’ll just fool around here for a dozen years or so!"

Hillel simply treated it like playing a game.

"After the Conquest progress is maxed out, will this World belong to me, or to us?"

Hillel calmly asked a follow-up question.

[The essential core of the World—that is, the fundamental laws and causal anchors that maintain its operation—will be extracted by the system to feed back into the host; however, the reality of the World itself is not dissolved thereby.]

[It can be understood as follows: What the system takes away is the form of the material World, the set of root rules that make the World what it is.]

[And what is left to the host is the existence of this World itself.]

[Just like pulling out the rules of a chess manual, the chessboard and chess pieces still actually exist. The host will become the new creator of this chessboard and can re-establish the basic rules of how the chess pieces fall.]

"What are you babbling about? Why didn’t I quite understand!" Hillel touched his nose.

It sounded like the system extracted the World’s power of rules, kept the post-Conquest World for itself, and then he could become the God of this World, re-establishing a new set of World rules?

That must be what it meant!

His comprehension ability shouldn’t have had any problems!

"No wonder the system would launch a grand crusade. Then I wouldn’t mind cosplaying Darkseid, but Dear System, you need to be sensible. When you run into Gods like The Presence or OAA, Thulhu... and those messy, tentacled things, you better run fast!"

"How fast those little legs of yours move concerns my head, Hillel!"

"When something happens, those little feet of yours better shuffle faster!"

Dear System remained silent as usual.

"Forget it, you can’t squeeze a good fart out of you even with three kicks. I’ll go take a look across the Narrow Sea!" Hillel muttered.

"At this time, Daenerys Targaryen should still be a little girl, and hasn’t hooked up with that Khal yet!"

...

Essos.

Pentos.

In the mansion of Magister Illyrio, Hillel found Daenerys Targaryen.

Daenerys Targaryen.

At this moment, the future Mother of Dragons, the Unburnt, Khaleesi of the Dothraki, Queen of the Great Grass Sea, Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, legitimate heir to the iron throne, the Liberator, Breaker of Chains... was still a young girl at the mercy of others.

She was preparing to bathe, attended by her handmaidens.

Floating outside the window, Hillel heard a few servants whispering.

"That Khal Drogo is arriving much later than expected!"

"Indeed! Your Highness Viserys is furious about this, cursing that Khal for not being punctual."

"Sigh! What a pity for such a gorgeous white-haired princess! Falling into the hands of Khal Drogo, she’s bound to have a miserable life!"

Hillel understood in his heart.

He casually borrowed a set of local clothes to change into, disguising himself as a native in coarse linen clothes and a cloak draped over the outside.

Dealing with locals still required wearing local clothes.

Tights plus a cape were still too avant-garde for the people here; only dwarfs acting in comedies would dress like that.

After changing his outfit, Hillel silently floated into the hall.

At this moment, attended by two handmaidens, Daenerys Targaryen slowly stepped into the pool of scalding hot water. Her skin was slightly flushed from the steam, yet she felt not a trace of burning heat, while her expression was entirely numb.

Daenerys Targaryen had been manipulated by her own brother to the point of numbness!

According to local customs, once a girl saw blood for the first time, it meant she could be married off.

In other words, Daenerys Targaryen was only thirteen or fourteen years old at this moment.

One can only say it was relatively normal in ancient times, but for modern people, this age was still too young.

Hillel raised his hand and pointed into the air.

The two handmaidens collapsed softly to the ground, without a sound.

Daenerys Targaryen only heard two muffled thuds coming from behind her, and instinctively turned her head back.

Then she saw that a strange man had somehow already stood behind her.

"Ah!!"

Daenerys showed terror on her face, wrapped her arms around herself, shrank back, pressing her whole body against the pool wall. Those violet eyes were filled with fear and timidity.

She wanted to cry for help, but no matter what, she couldn’t open her mouth!

"Don’t scream!"

Hillel said faintly, "If I wanted to kill you, you would have died long ago!"

The newcomer shoved his hands into his cloak, his tone calm and composed. Daenerys took a long time to calm down and confirm that the other party had no malicious intent, and his gaze was very honest, not glancing around.

"You... what kind of person are you?"

Daenerys Targaryen asked tremblingly, "Which faction were you sent by? My brother is the true dragon’s son, if you dare to touch us..."

"The true dragon’s son?"

Hillel sneered, "I don’t have a stupid son like your brother!"

"On this vast land, if there truly is a true dragon, it can only be me, not your brother, that cute... foolish thing!" Hillel’s figure slowly left the ground, suspended in mid-air, his cloak fluttering without any wind.

Looking at the man suspended in the air, Daenerys Targaryen gradually shed her terror, her expression turning into bewilderment, faintly tinged with a hint of awe.

"Could... could my prayers have worked?"

Daenerys Targaryen said excitedly.

Prayer?

What prayer!

Would your ancestors, who constantly birthed deformed offspring, cross the river of history to save you?

Stop joking!

The game of the gods was intermittent, and the downfall of the dragon family also meant the rest of the Red God.

But this did not affect Daenerys Targaryen’s understanding.

The man before her eyes... was definitely not human!

He might be one of the avatars of some god in the mortal World.

"Can you lead me out of the sea of suffering? My knight!"

Daenerys Targaryen obviously still retained the innocence of a little girl; she often kept a diary, praying in her diary to break free from bad luck.

What decent person keeps a diary?

Can what’s written in a diary be true thoughts?

"I am not your knight. Poke those pink fairy tale bubbles in your head just a little! I am bringing you a prophecy!" Hillel looked down at her and slowly said, "You will obtain three dragon eggs, with three sleeping dragons dwelling within. They will bring you vitality when you are at your most desperate."

"By then the sleeping dragons can indeed awaken, but the one who will conquer the dragons is not Viserys, but Daenerys Targaryen!"

"Relying on them, you will sweep across Essos and become the uncrowned queen of this continent!"

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