The Boys: Viltrumite Bloodline Panel

Amidst this chaos, Joffrey happened to rush back.

Joffrey, the ass-est of the ass king who had yet to ascend the throne, already displayed a violent and cowardly side at this moment.

Clutching a bitten palm, he aggressively rushed over, demanding that Robert seek justice for him.

"Father! A lowly commoner actually dared to bite me! I want to make him wish he were dead!"

Robert was already full of anger.

The moment he saw Joffrey’s face, which bore a striking resemblance to Cersei, that nameless fire in his heart suddenly flared up.

"Wish he were dead? Good! Very good indeed! You’re truly just like that bitch mother of yours, equally vicious and equally stupid!"

Robert let out a furious roar. "Someone come! Tie this little bastard up for me!"

The guards looked at each other in dismay, but intimidated by Robert’s monstrous wrath, they swarmed forward anyway, tying up the astonished Joffrey tightly, leaving him unable to break free no matter how much he struggled.

Robert had someone fetch a riding crop and lashed it fiercely at Joffrey.

"Father... King! Have you gone mad?! I am your son! What wrong have I committed?!" Joffrey screamed miserably.

Yet no one dared to step forward to stop it.

Robert’s decades of accumulated resentment seemed to vent out at this very moment, beating Joffrey until his skin was torn and he howled like a ghost.

"Damned blonde bitch! You still dare to impersonate my son, are you even of the blood of House Baratheon? Can you even sit securely in this seat of the heir?!"

After dozens of lashes, Robert beat him until he was out of breath.

"Damned little wretch!"

Robert threw away the riding crop in his hand and kicked Joffrey over.

"From now on, you are no longer any crown prince!" Robert announced coldly. "I hereby declare that Joffrey is demoted to a commoner. Now get lost to the stable and tend to horses for me for the rest of your life!"

Joffrey collapsed completely onto the ground.

He didn’t even know why Robert beat him.

Robert did not treat all his children equally; for instance, he made a special exception for his naturally well-behaved and gentle younger daughter Myrcella.

Because Myrcella was not as vicious as Cersei, but instead very gentle and considerate, and after years of companionship, Robert could not bear to demote his daughter to a commoner as well, so he ordered Myrcella to be temporarily raised within the royal family.

In the future, she could also secure benefits for the royal family.

An adopted daughter of the king could still be used for political marriages, and might even be more useful than a biological daughter.

The younger son Tommen stood in sharp contrast to Joffrey; he was cowardly and timid, and not The Rival for the throne. Letting him grow up under the careful assistance of a maester would allow him to manage the Westerlands for himself in the future.

War would definitely break out!

Yet regarding the various arrangements after this war, Robert had already reserved a place for everyone’s future in the blink of an eye.

...

"Hah!"

Hillel hovered high above in the sky, taking everything in.

Robert truly had some substance.

However, no one could say for sure where the pieces on the chessboard of power would fall. Today’s protagonist-looking person might end up kicked to death like a stray dog on the roadside tomorrow; this was the true underlying tone of Game of Thrones.

...

Winterfell.

Hillel didn’t take long to find Catelyn.

Catelyn was the wife of the Warden of the North, and she was also an extremely controversial figure in Game of Thrones, interpreting the game of power through maternal love, which ultimately doomed the entire North.

There was nothing wrong with a teenage girl living like a princess.

But for a woman who was already married and a noble Duchess, yet still lived like a princess, she could only blame others.

At this moment, Catelyn was guarding the bedside of her son Bran, weeping tears of blood.

Her young son had mysteriously fallen from a high tower a few days ago, and had nearly lost his life in a night assassination attempt.

Hillel’s appearance caused Catelyn to wear a look of terror.

"Assassin!" She abruptly pounced toward the bedside, spreading her arms to protect the unconscious Bran like a large bird.

"I won’t let you harm my son!"

She thought Hillel was an assassin sent by the murderer again.

Yet Hillel ignored her.

He flashed to the bedside, bypassed Catelyn directly, and reached out to touch Bran’s forehead.

It was indeed the will of the Three-Eyed Raven obstructing this child from waking up.

Bran possessed a naturally strong willpower and powerful mental energy. If not for his physical disability, the Three-Eyed Raven would never have had the chance to parasitize his body. As long as Bran could recover, he could delay the Three-Eyed Raven’s plan to a certain extent.

Once he unified the continent of Westeros and conquered this World, all the gods of this world would be expelled or even strangled to death!

"I beg you!"

Catelyn knelt down, her face covered in tears, pleading bitterly.

"Please, don’t kill my son! If you want to kill someone, kill me instead! Use my life in exchange for his!"

Hillel was somewhat speechless.

"People shouldn’t be this foolish!" He sighed. "If I really wanted to kill your son, do you think you’d still have the chance to stand here and talk to me?"

"Even if I truly were an assassin, would your begging be of any use?"

"Perhaps I’d even make you lie over the bedside for some exciting action!" Hillel sneered.

Catelyn was slightly stunned.

What did that mean?

He wasn’t here to kill Bran; was this person here to mate with her?

Catelyn’s expression became even more terrified!

No! Don’t do it!

"You... what kind of person are you precisely?" Catelyn asked trembling, her eyes filled with fear.

"Who I am, you don’t need to ask right now; you will know in due time!" Hillel said. "You only need to understand one thing: I can replace the old gods you worship, and I can make Bran recover so that he won’t have to be paralyzed in bed for the rest of his life!"

Catelyn’s eyes showed shock and suspicion.

This person mysteriously appeared in Bran’s room, yet wasn’t an assassin, but a maester?

Which maester possessed such skill?

Catelyn’s first reaction should have been skepticism, but maternal love overrode her brain, causing her to ask instinctively.

"Re... really?"

"Yes, but everything comes at a price! All men must die, all men must offer tribute!"

Hillel said.

He slowly raised his hand and gently waved it toward Bran on the bed.

The next moment.

That unconscious child actually opened his eyes.

"Mother..." Bran looked around blankly.

"Mother, my legs... I seem to be able to feel my legs!"

Saying this, he propped himself against the edge of the bed and actually stood up shakily!

The maesters had diagnosed that Bran would find it difficult to wake up, and even if he were fortunate enough to wake up, he would never be able to pick up a weapon in the second half of his life to become a knight or his elder brother’s capable assistant.

He would be paralyzed in bed for the rest of his life.

Yet right now, Bran had miraculously recovered!

"A miracle!" Catelyn covered her mouth, tears streaming down like rain. "This is a miracle!"

"All men must die, all men must offer tribute! The old gods you worship are not necessarily as useful as me, so what should you call me now?"

Hillel looked down from above and slowly floated up.

His cloak swayed without any wind.

This scene was deeply etched into the bottom of Catelyn’s eyes.

The North worshipped the old gods and the First Men, which was different from the beliefs of the south; they preferred to stand under weirwood trees to pray rather than face artificially constructed stone statues to pray for peace for their families.

But this did not affect Catelyn changing her faith.

____

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