Third person pov:

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The chamber was opulent, adorned with lavish tapestries that depicted scenes of glorious conquests and regal ceremonies. The light from the grand windows streamed in, casting a warm glow across the room. King Joffrey Baratheon, resplendent in royal attire, sat upon a wooden chair placed in the center of the chamber.

Cersei Lannister, the Queen Mother, stood near the chamber's entrance. She had a contemplative look on her face as she smoothed out the intricate embroidery on her gown.

Joffrey's piercing green eyes locked onto Cersei's as she prepared to leave. The boy king was serious, his youthful face bearing an air of authority that was both unsettling and captivating. "And remember, mother," he intoned, his voice measured and cold. "Everyone who is not us is our enemy."

Cersei nodded solemnly at her son's words, her gaze lingering on him for a moment before she turned to open the ornate door. As she exited the chamber, the heavy wooden door closed behind her with a soft, foreboding thud, leaving Joffrey alone with the weight of his new responsibility...

For a scant few minutes...

The door to Joffrey's chamber swung open once more, this time with a carefree flourish. In walked Tyrion Lannister, the Imp, his steps a little unsteady from the wine he had been downing. His jovial demeanor seemed to fill the room as he entered.

Tyrion chuckled as he approached Joffrey's wooden chair. "My dear nephew, the king! How delightful!" He raised his glass, toasting to the new monarch. "I must say, the wine flows quite generously in the Red Keep today."

Joffrey's expression remained serious, but there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he regarded Tyrion. "It seems you've had your share already, Uncle..."

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Negary pov :

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"I must admit, *Hic* when that raven arrived bearing your invitation to be Hand of the King, I thought it was another one of your jests,*Hic* a cruel joke at my expense." I watched Tyrion say drunkenly.

I chuckled, swirling the wine in my own goblet as I listened to Tyrion's remarks. "You know, Uncle," I began, a wry smile playing on my lips, "this is the fifth time you've mentioned that you thought it was a jest. Should I be worried about your trust in my sincerity?"

'Indeed you should' I thought while looking at the drunk and happy dwarf. He was clearly elated , given that it was probably the first time someone valued him so highly. He was clearly still suspicious of me though , given the fact that even in his drunken state , he was analyzing my face , probably waiting for me to show the disdain and schadenfreude a prankster might feel for his victim.

Suffice to say , I wouldn't show him any of that. It was already hard to convince him that I meant no harm.

He reached King's Landing a few days ago (not having been captured by Catelyn Stark this time around) and he was just moving aimlessly in-between whorehouses.

It was a shame, really. A man with a wit like his , coupled with a more appealing appearance and a bit more ambition would have taken the world by storm. Still , his lack of height was not enough of a reason to indulge in hedonism and embark in self-destructive habits , but to each his own.

I could understand his feelings somewhat.

Feeling like he had no purpose and seeing the futility of it all , coupled with being scorned by most of his family and those surrounding him... it's quite impressive that he managed to forge such a sturdy mentality.

Tyrion laughed heartily, his wit as sharp as ever. "Oh, dear Joffrey, you should never be worried about my trust. I merely find it amusing how life has a way of surprising us. And I must admit, this is one of the most pleasant surprises I've had in quite some time."

And that was the reason I chose him to be my Hand.

My ,,mother,, didn't like that one bit , but she was quite easy to pacify by telling her exactly what she wanted to hear...that she was still the one I will listen to the most and that Tyrion is only a figurehead.

'I'm sure she will realize quite soon that it was all bullshit and will start acting up , and depending on how volatile she is...she might even have an unfortunate accident. She's not all that useful anymore...'

I also didn't need a Hand per se , but I had much better uses for my time than managing the affairs of a country I cared nothing about.

It also allowed Eddard to return to the North and rally it's armies.

Also , I had to make a trip to the North to strike a deal with Mance Rayder , the King Beyond the wall (and also kill some Boltons while I'm there for good measure). So my dear Hand and my grandpa will have to deal with Stannis in my stead.

Melisandre was unfortunately ignoring my letters. She didn't answer even when I offered to make the Lord of the Light the official religion in Westeros , which was weird, but who am I to judge.

Renly was currently kind of being kept hostage in the capital and I had no plans on allowing him to leave. Time heals all wounds as they say , and I didn't want him to forget the ,,miracles,, I was able to perform , even if it was quite unlikely.

Indeed, that was the reason I turned the Iron Throne in a fucking statue of the Fat King.

First of all , it cemented the trust Eddard had in me , seeing how much I ,,loved,, and ,,respected,, my father , coupled with the ,,humbleness,, I showed by sitting on a wooden chair like a commoner.

It was at the same time a show of strength towards my remaining contenders for hegemony , while also boosting my already insane reputation with the masses even more.

And I say remaining because from the original 5 kings that should have chased the crown , only three remained.

By Killing Petyr and exposing his schemes , I prevented an uprising in the North and by keeping Renly in check , I basically removed him from the board.

The only remaining ones were me , Stannis who would probably not be intimidated by my show , and Greyjoy who should also be removed sooner rather than later now that I think about it.

All in all , there should be no problems on the civil war side of things. If worse comes to worst , I will just kill everyone standing in my way when I feel strong enough , and deal with the fallout from offending the Lord of Light.

Why such a radical way of thinking , you ask? Well , it was becoming increasingly obvious that the gods couldn't or wouldn't interfere with the material plane as they wished. Otherwise, why would they allow me do do as I please with little to no resistance? I needed to find out their hidden agenda, because a hidden dagger is always more dangerous than a dagger in plain sight.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

And so , I started entertaining the idea of purposefully offending some ,,god,, just to understand what I was dealing with.

I was quite confident in my ability to at least run away , too , because of my latest innovation in soul refinement.

Using soul energy...as fuel for magic.

It sounded bad , especially since it was quite literally tearing hunks of my soul off to power whatever the hell I wanted to make into reality.

The efficiency was also horrendous, with barely any of the energy actually doing what it was supposed to do.

It was also impossible to use for small tasks , given the fact that I essentially supercharging everything I wanted to do.

But my accumulated soul foundation was sitting at a comfortable 500man Soul before I ,,called upon the gods,, to turn a throne into a statue , so I didn't really care much about consumption.

There were tens of thousands of people in the capital , with tens of them being born and dying every day , so if there was one thing I didn't lack , it was a soul supply.

No , what I really cared about was the soul tearing part. Because I realized that each time it happened, after my soul ,,healed,, it became a teeny-tiny bit more resilient.

Which meant...I made myself a refinement method. And I now had a way of steadily increasing my strength as time went on.

It took me around two days for my soul to recover after one training session in which I basically wasted about a hundred souls worth of soul energy as far as I could tell , and this improved my soul refinement by about one soul each time.

And this in turn meant that I would be able to reach the 1000man Soul threshold in about three years.

Suffice to say , this was much too slow for my liking , but it was a start. I was already planning on improving my method.

Tyrion raised his wine goblet high, the candlelight flickering in his mischievous eyes. "To King Joffrey, the Blessed!" he exclaimed, his voice carrying a tone of mock reverence. "I still can't believe that the Smith himself answered your prayers, dear nephew. Long may you reign, and may your days be filled with as much merriment as this one."

I joined in the toast, clinking my goblet against Tyrion's.

'Poor guy , I hope you maintain that attitude when working on mountains of paperwork taller than yourself...' I thought while smiling.

"Aye, the Smith has indeed smiled upon me," I replied , unmoved the moment of triumph.

'This is only the beginning...'

"To a prosperous and glorious reign."

The Lannister and Baratheon continued to share the wine, their laughter echoing through the chamber until Tyrion finally took his leave.

I was just about to exit my mortal coil and continue my training in my soul form.

I say continue because I was always training my magic , even when doing other tasks.

Given that now I was subjectively perceiving the flow of time much , much ,slower than an average human, I was always trying to 𝗳𝗼𝗰𝘂𝘀 on more than one thing at once.

And it was working!

'It's only a matter of time now...'

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But I was întrerupted just as I was about to start my paper-floating routine by yet another person entering my chambers.

"This better be worth it..." I said to Varys who turned out to be the uninvited guest , all while controlling my meat puppet to stare unblinkingly at him.

'Maybe I should paint one of those "Do not disturb" signs on my door?'

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Varys pov :

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Varys entered King Joffrey's chamber with his usual grace, his soft-soled shoes barely making a sound on the chamber's ornate rugs. His eyes darted around, scanning the room for any signs of intrigue or danger before he approached the king.

As he stood before Joffrey, he couldn't help but feel a shiver run down his spine. The events of the coronation, the transformation of the Iron Throne, and the power that Joffrey had displayed had left him deeply unsettled. Varys was a man who thrived on knowledge and control, but the prince's actions had defied all logic and understanding.

In his mind, Varys admitted to himself that he was concerned. The recent events surrounding Joffrey's ascension to the throne, and the transformation of the Iron Throne itself, held a significance that was beyond their mortal comprehension. It was an otherworldly power the prince had displayed, and Varys feared the implications of such a move.

He chose his words carefully as he spoke to Joffrey, not wanting to betray any hint of his true feelings or motivations. But deep down, he couldn't deny the unease that gnawed at him, a fear of the unknown and the unpredictable nature of the new king's rule.

Varys spoke with a measured tone, careful to maintain his mask of discretion. "Your Grace," he began, "everything unfolded according to your plan. The traveling merchant was indeed paid a visit, but Ser Jorah Mormont swiftly intervened to stop any harm from coming to Daenerys Targaryen."

He paused for a moment, ensuring that his words conveyed nothing but loyalty and support. "Your wisdom in these matters is unmatched, and your foresight has served us well. The realm is fortunate to have a king who takes such precautions to protect its stability."

Joffrey leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on Varys. "Save the bootlicking for someone who buys it," he retorted sharply. "Tell me, Varys, how did the Dothraki react to this attempt on their Khaleesi?" His tone held a hint of curiosity, as if he were genuinely interested in the answer.

Varys delivered the news with his usual calm demeanor. "They are marching toward Westeros, my Lord, determined to conquer it, and they are pillaging everything in their path to amass the wealth needed to buy ships. But, of course, you were already aware of their intentions, were you not?" Varys asked, his tone mild but probing, as if testing Joffrey's knowledge and preparedness.

At this , Joffrey only smiled without saying anything in response.Feeling the weight of Joffrey's smile and sensing that further probing was unwise, Varys offered a polite bow. "Of course, Your Grace. I wish you a good night," he said before quickly exiting the chamber ,but before he could close the door behind him , he heard the King's voice once more , saying something that made him even more afraid

"You are a smart man , Varys..."

It seemed like a praise...so why did it feel so much like a threat?

And what did the King hope to accomplish by angering the Dothraki?

'So many questions...do I have what it takes to find out the answers?' Varys though while making his way towards his next stop. The new Hand's chamber where some of his spies should have already delivered his gifts.

'A good first impression goes a long way after all...'

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Negary pov :

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I was starting to feel like Murphy was trying to annoy me , because the moment the Eunuch left my room , another guest entered my room.

A small, ethereal figure resembling a woodland dryad drifted into my chamber. Its form was translucent green, with a childlike countenance. Its face was a mask of eerie, expressionless calm. This spectral presence moved silently, phasing through walls and objects as if it were a creature not bound by the laws of the physical world.

It was my soon to be servant , of course.

Leaf was a bit distant this past week , no doubt mulling over my proposal , and from the (kind of) resolute way she was floating towards me , she seemed to have come to a decision.

"What's up , Leafy? We still have some time until we start our training" I asked her casually.

"I thought about your proposal...." She said slowly , completely ignoring what I said.

"And I accept....but I have conditions" She continued sternly, probably still struggling to accept the decision she made.

That's quite understandable , but I had to move fast , in case she has a change of heart.

"That's good to hear , my wooden companion" I told her with a warm smile. "Now come here and tell Papa Negary what you want for Christmas"

"..."

A blank stare was all I got , but after a brief staredown , her shoulders sagged and she sighed , seemingly allowing tension to leave her body.

"There's no need to be so tense , Leaf. It's a mutually beneficial trade . I don't plan to force you to do anything you don't want" I started selling my pitch with a serious expression. The earlier joke was meant to take the wind out of her sails , and now while she is mentally off balance, I will be able to...

*Knock Knock Knock*

'WHO THE HELL IS DISTURBING ME AGAIN'

Someone was knocking at my door once more , and just when I was about to negotiate employment terms with my discount Pinocchio.

"Excuse me for a moment" I told Leaf who was looking at me amusedly. Huh , did I show my annoyance in my face? That's not good , I need to be able to always mask my emotions...

'Fuck you Murphy...you win this one' I thought as I opened the door.

I was met by the sight of a maid standing there, holding a small, fluffy dog in her arms. The dog had a bright coat of golden fur, and its round, expressive eyes sparkled with curiosity. It was a funny little creature, with floppy ears and a wagging tail that betrayed its excitement.

''Your Grace, um... Lord Varys has sent you this dog as a gift.'' The maid said shyly as she shoved the dog in my hands ''He also apologizes that it took so long , but it was hard finding a dog that matched your specifications" she continued...and ran away.

Yes, she literally sprinted away after she finished talking , not even giving me the opportunity to respond.

Wait , wasn't she the maid who tricked me before we left for Winterfell?

'Eh , who gives a fuck' I thought as I looked at the bundle of cuteness in my arms.

The small Corgi dog, now in my arms, began to bark with an excited yip, its tiny tail wagging furiously.

I entered my chamber, the Corgi dog nestled in my arms. With a subtle wave of my hand, I closed the door behind me using my magic. I then approached Leaf, who was gazing at nothing in particular, and held the small dog up for her to see.

Furrowing her brows in confusion, Leaf asked, "What is with that animal?" Her voice held a note of curiosity as she looked at the Corgi in my arms.

With a hint of sarcasm, I introduced the dog, "Allow me to present Ser Joy, the Dog Knight." Laying the Corgi on the bed, I started petting him affectionately.

'Oh , is that a bit of disappointment I see in your eyes , Leaf? Don't worry, I will also keep petting your head...' I thought amusedly as Leaf almost glared at Ser Joy who wasn't able to see her.

My ethereal form separated from my physical body, but I maintained a delicate thread of mana connected to it, ensuring that my corporeal self continued to pet the Dog Knight.

With a harmless smile , I then turned to Leaf and asked,

"Shall we continue where we left off?"

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A.N :

"To earn and gain one must fight, losing and winning never came into the conversation for him, but not out of some arrogance or confidence.

He simply saw the fight as life, to stop fighting was to lose, to struggle even when beaten was truly a victory while becoming complacent after the fight the true

loss.

The fight was only lost when you stopped fighting, not when you were beaten."

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Skill gained:

Soul crush (refinement technique) - novice