MTL - Han’s Son is Not a Slave - Chapter 18 haircut

In the cutthroat world of Westeros, where power is a game and everyone's fate is a pawn in a deadly chess match, Gendry is a nobody with a secret that could change everything. A bastard with the blood of the Stormborn coursing through his veins, he's been thrown into the scorching heart of a blacksmith's forge. Here, he'll face the trials of iron and fire, learn to hide his true identity, and carve out a path through the treacherous whirlpool of power.As the shadow of the Spider spreads across King's Landing, Gendry's fate takes a dark turn. Can he survive the deadly game of politics? And will he find his own glory amidst the forge's flames?

“Stop following me!” Asher yelled, his patience running thin. He had let it slide for too long because she had done a lot for him. But now she was everywhere, suffocating him.“I’m only trying to protect you,” she responded.Asher sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I need some space, alright? I can take care of myself.”She didn’t budge, and just kept staring at him with that same obsessive look, like she had no intention of leaving.“Is it because you’re strong now? Are you going to leave me because I'm no use to you anymore?” Her voice had turned cold, sharp enough to cut through the silence.“Of course not, you know that’s not the reason…”“Then why do you want me to stop following you?”“I’m just going to the restroom, for God’s sake!” He massaged his temple, clearly at his wit’s end.“Oh, you should have said that earlier.” She giggled, the earlier tension melting away.“I did,” he sighed in defeat.

The Night Has Come, and kermesinus moon ascends in the sky.Hoarse whispers flow at the street corners, and brass steam machines spew out bloody mist.Your brain is singing a hymn, eyes are chanting a melody.Skin cracks, and flesh buds swell.Amidst the Mist, the wall of flesh that has devoured thousands of corpses wails endlessly—“Weep not, our players don't bite, they just want to play with you.”Annan, the lone strategist, the top player, the savior of the mist-covered continent, the leader of the Thirteen Saints, the friend of the Twelve True Gods, the king of pioneers, “the Just”, the Gatekeeper of the Fourth Calamity, the uncrowned deity, advised kindly.

Looking at the survivors, their faces the picture of despair, surrounded by zombies at the foot of the towering walls, Tang Ye stretched his arms wide and shouted: “Welcome to paradise!”