Chapter 73:
King's Landing, Blackwater Bay Docks.
When the massive tracks of the "Sovereign" command tank heavily stepped onto the granite slabs of the King's Landing harbor, the entire city seemed to tremble faintly under the weight of power.
Victor Pompey stood atop the command cupola, looking down with a commanding gaze at the power center he had personally reshaped. On both sides of the streets, tall electric poles stood like a steel forest. Arc lamps flickered with a cold light even in daylight — iron nails forcefully driven into the medieval body by industrial civilization.
Yet, within this familiar and reassuring smell of machine oil, Victor keenly detected a discordant note.
It was an extremely faint, sweet fragrance that nevertheless sent a chill down his spine.
"Welcome back to court, my lord."
Margaery Tyrell walked forward gracefully, accompanied by Tyrion and a group of officials. She wore a bright yellow maternity gown. Even with her pregnancy clearly visible, the flame called "ambition" still danced in her deep brown eyes.
Victor jumped down from the tank, symbolically kissed Margaery on the forehead, then leaned close to her ear and asked in a cold voice: "While I was away, it seems King's Landing has gained some 'colors' I'm not familiar with?"
Margaery followed Victor's gaze to the end of the welcoming procession. The corners of her mouth curved into a playful arc. "You mean Miss Lilith? She is now the most popular 'Holy Lily' in King's Landing. Without her medical ship, that damned plague would have already filled the Blackwater River."
Victor looked in the direction she indicated.
At the very end of the line stood a woman who seemed completely out of place amid the surrounding aura of power and desire.
She wore a pure white linen robe with no gold ornaments, only a small wooden holy icon hanging at her neck. She was extremely beautiful, yet in a fragile, sickly way that evoked pity — as if a slightly stronger wind or snow could snap her in half.
At this moment, she was squatting on the ground, gently wiping the dirt from the face of a snot-nosed little beggar. Her movements were natural and holy, showing no trace of performance.
[System Notification: High-intensity interference field detected.]
[Target possesses a special energy shield. Unable to scan. Recommend maintaining social distance.]
Victor narrowed his eyes. This was the first time since his transmigration that the system had failed to analyze a "native" in front of him.
"An exiled noble with an ancient magical heritage?" Victor mentally marked a question.
…
At the same time.
Lilith Mort lowered her head. Her sapphire-blue eyes held no pity — only a deep, abyssal coldness.
On the retinal display only she could see, a pitch-black panel covered in dried blood spots flashed with frantic red light:
[Black Mother Goddess System Notification:]
[SSS-grade prey detected: Victor Pompey.]
[Identity Confirmed: Due to the target's possession of an advanced technology tree, he is classified as an equal-level transmigrator.]
[Hunting Rule No. 1: Absolute camouflage. Strictly prohibit any modern thinking or advanced vocabulary.]
"Heh. Found you."
Lilith let out a soft, delighted laugh in her heart. In her previous life, one of her most enjoyable hunts had been in the police chief's office — helping him with files while adding an equal amount of arsenic to his daily coffee.
She understood this type of man all too well — men who possessed power and fancied themselves "creators."
They were strong, suspicious, but they all shared one common weakness: the arrogance of a savior deep in their bones.
As long as she appeared sufficiently harmless and fragile, this self-important Victor would voluntarily offer his throat to her teeth.
…
That night, Red Keep Banquet Hall.
The scent of wine and perfume filled the space between the marble columns.
Victor was surrounded by the crowd, enjoying the highest honors as the dragon-slaying hero.
Lilith sat quietly in a corner, carefully bandaging the scraped knee of a young servant boy. Her movements were as gentle as morning dew, and every glance she gave was filled with compassion.
"Lord Victor, won't you go meet the saintess?" Sansa had somehow appeared beside Victor. Her silver hair shimmered under the lamplight. As a mother who had also awakened divinity, she felt an indescribable repulsion toward Lilith. "There is a… deathly stillness about her."
"Perhaps because she spends so much time in graveyards and sickrooms." Victor observed calmly.
After finishing the bandaging, Lilith slowly stood up and happened to meet Victor's gaze.
She did not display seduction like Margaery, nor majesty like Daenerys. Instead, she lowered her head in apparent panic, like a startled fawn, and hurriedly retreated into the shadows of the side hall.
This "instinctive" flinch instantly and precisely struck Victor's desire for control.
"She's afraid of me?" The sliver of doubt in Victor's heart was replaced by an inexplicable sense of vanity.
Late at night, after the banquet ended.
Victor was taking a walk in the Red Keep's rear garden when he encountered Lilith again beside the fountain carved with ancient divine statues.
She was crying in front of the flowing water. Her white robe was dampened by the mist, clinging tightly to her slender back.
"Who are you crying for?" Victor's voice rang out in the darkness, carrying an unquestionable weight.
Lilith turned around in apparent fright. The wooden holy icon in her hand fell to the ground. She stammered as she curtsied: "M-my lord… I was only feeling sad for the patients who could not be saved… I am too useless. My herbs could not save everyone."
She cried so genuinely, her shoulders shaking violently. Even the faint redness around her eyes was perfectly measured.
Victor stepped forward, picked up the wooden icon, and handed it back to her.
In the instant their fingers touched, Victor felt the tremor in her fingertips. It was extreme fear — the instinctive reaction of a weak woman of this era facing a tyrannical dragon-slayer.
"System, scan again," Victor ordered in his mind.
[Scan Report: Heart rate, body temperature, and muscle response all match severe fear characteristics. Judgment: Ordinary human female.]
Victor completely lowered his guard. The corners of his mouth curved into a domineering arc.
"Herbs cannot save the world, but steel can. Since you like saving people so much, stay in the Red Keep. My hospital needs a saintess."
Lilith knelt on the ground and bowed her head deeply. Her long hair concealed the fleeting, almost mocking curve at the corner of her mouth.
"The prey has entered the trap."
Lilith looked at the shadow on the ground.
Victor looked at the extremely fragile woman before him. He thought he was simply adding a new accessory, completely unaware that this woman called the "Lily" was already calculating how to turn his empire into a grand altar at the moment of his greatest triumph.
The hands of two transmigrators clasped together in the night.
One believed he had conquered fragility. The other was kissing the noose on the gallows.
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