Criggon Castle. The sanctuary, the prayer room of the Demon Mountain.
The Mountain sat on the stool, looking down at Lord Petyr Baelish, Littlefinger, opposite him.
He stared at Petyr until the composed Petyr lost his composure, his hands on the table shifting positions at least three times.
The Mountain pulled out a glass bottle and tossed it to Littlefinger.
The little finger reached out and caught it. The glass bottle contained a red liquid—blood.
"What is this?" Demon Mountain asked in a deep voice.
His tone carried a condescending and oppressive air.
"If I'm not mistaken, this is blood from my fingertip."
"Do you remember the night we met at the restaurant?"
"Unforgettable!" Little Finger's lips curled up slightly, revealing a mischievous smile.
"You can still laugh?"
"I have always done so, sir."
"You are about to die."
Littlefinger gave a soft hum: "Sir, if you really wanted to kill me, I wouldn't be sitting in front of you right now. To be honest, I don't understand why you brought me here. I gave you the price you wanted for the gold ore exactly as you requested."
"I brought you here because what you're holding reveals your secret."
"My blood?" Littlefinger looked surprised. Of course, he was faking it; it was so fake it was obvious.
"I know all your secrets from your blood."
Littlefinger chuckled. "Sir Gregor, what do you want me to do for you? Just tell me, and I'll do it. Let's get down to business, Sir. You didn't bring me to Clegane Village for no reason, but you won't kill me either. So, let's get to the point."
The Mountain said calmly, "The Blood Wizard knows all your secrets through your blood, and coincidentally, this Blood Wizard is my maternal grandmother."
Little Finger's gray-green eyes gleamed with a hint of mockery. He looked at the rock-solid Demon Mountain and chuckled, "My lord, let's see who's the real deal. Don't say a word about anything else, okay?"
"Good. You took advantage of Lysa Tully's feelings for you and instigated her to poison her husband, Jon Arryn, the First Hand. Then, you made Lysa Tully write a letter to her sister, Catelyn Tully, blaming the Lannisters of the West for Jon Arryn's death. In her letter to Catelyn, Lysa Tully said that the Lannisters poisoned Jon Arryn."
Little Finger's mocking smile vanished instantly, his face slowly turning deathly pale. Beads of sweat trickled down his nose, forehead, and neck, completely beyond his control. His hands, resting on the table, were already twisted together without his realizing it.
Littlefinger stared at the Mountain, his inner defenses crumbling!
Why did the Mountain know everything about his meticulously planned conspiracy? He subconsciously glanced at the glass bottle clutched tightly in his palm. He had a deep impression of this glass bottle. More than a month ago, at night, in the tavern next to Master Tob Mort's blacksmith shop, he saw the Mountain, was forced onto the table by the Mountain's men, and had his fingertips forcibly pricked to draw a glass bottle of blood.
Later in the throne room, Varys the Spider specifically warned him that some wizards could cast curses using human blood, harming the blood's owner. He hadn't taken it seriously at the time; the Seven Gods were no longer powerful, and the wizards' spells had been ineffective for years. The Spider was simply trying to see him frightened and embarrassed, but he remained calm and composed, disappointing the Spider who wanted to see him afraid.
"You are the mastermind behind the murder of Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King; you are also the mastermind behind the plot to use Lysa Tully to deceive the Stark family and have them pin Jon Arryn's death on the Lannisters of the West. See, I already know your secrets."
Sweat began to drip from his little finger and the tip of his nose. He gripped the glass bottle tightly in his hand, wiping the sweat with the back of his hand, his entire arm trembling slightly. His mind was buzzing, as if a thousand horses were galloping, but the words of the Demon Mountain easily pierced through the galloping horses, clearly echoing in his mind again and again.
"Littlefinger, if Lord Tywin finds out about your scheme to frame the Lannisters for the murder of the Hand of the King, causing war between the North and the West, how do you think you'll die?"
Littlefinger was a quick-witted man, but he opened his mouth and couldn't utter a single word. It was as if a ball of cotton was stuck in his throat, making it impossible for him to breathe or make a sound.
The Mountain stood up, opened the liquor cabinet, took out a bottle of liquor and a glass. He poured half a glass of liquor, its color a deep red, like blood: "Littlefinger, would you like a glass?"
Little Finger released the small glass bottle containing his blood, grabbed the wine glass, and downed it in one gulp. Then, he began to cough violently; his already graying dark hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, making his face look even smaller. His eyes, which had always revealed a shrewd glint, became blank and unfocused.
He was genuinely terrified!
He didn't want to die, and he certainly didn't want to live a life worse than death!
For Littlefinger, born into an insignificant family with no influence, Lord Tywin Lannister would kill him like a lion tearing apart a lamb, and easily dispose of the body. From that moment on, the Baelish family would cease to exist.
My little finger was so scared that it felt cold all over and started to spasm slightly!
He feared death, and even more so, he feared dying without securing a high-ranking noble status for the Baelish family or leaving any descendants for the family. Littlefinger was born in Aegon's 268th year and was exactly thirty years old this year.
In his panic, Littlefinger remembered his lover Lysa Tully.
Littlefinger's father, Earl Baelish, and Duke Hoster Tully forged a friendship while fighting together in the Battle of the Ninepenny Kings. After the war, Duke Hoster Tully, out of respect for Earl Baelish, adopted Littlefinger as his son.
Littlefinger grew up in Riverrun with the Duke's two daughters, Lysa Tully and Catelyn Tully. He fell deeply in love with the older sister, Catelyn, while the younger sister, Lysa, fell deeply in love with him.
A poor boy whose territory is only fit for sheep droppings is falling in love with the daughter of the Duke of the Riverlands? Littlefinger's status is far inferior to that of the Tully family. His nickname "Littlefinger" was first used by Lysa and Catelyn in Riverrun. This was because of his family's territory—the smallest and most barren peninsula on the Fingers, a peninsula with nothing but rocks: Littlefinger Peninsula.
When Catelyn was betrothed to Brynden Stark, the heir to the North, Littlefinger dueled with Brynden for Catelyn's sake. At Catelyn's request, Brynden spared his life.
One night, Lysa deliberately went into Littlefinger's bedroom while he was drunk, and soon after, Lysa became pregnant. When Lord Hoster Tully found out, he was furious. He tricked Lysa into drinking Moon Tea, causing her to miscarry, and banished his adopted son, Littlefinger, from Riverrun.
From then on, Littlefinger's only goal in life was to become a real big shot.
Driven by a thirst for power and status, Littlefinger aspired to become a high-ranking nobleman. Even after Lysa Tully married Jon Arryn, Lord of the Vale, he maintained a romantic relationship with her. With Lysa's help, Littlefinger secured a position as tax collector in Gulltown, a port city in the Vale. His business acumen became apparent then, as he increased Gulltown's tax revenue tenfold in a very short time. Consequently, Lord Jon, Lord of the Vale and Hand of the Seven Kingdoms, began to promote him repeatedly, until he eventually became Master of Coin of King Robert Baratheon.
Although he held a high position in the Imperial Council, his territory remained the Little Finger Peninsula on the Five Fingers Peninsula. No matter how much money he made from his brothels, he was always referred to as the Earl of Sheep Dung by the truly sophisticated nobles. —On his land, only a few goats that ate rocks and moss were worthy of being kept.
Just as Littlefinger's meticulously planned schemes were unfolding, his blood was taken by the Mountain, and a blood wizard saw through all his plans through his blood.
This is unbelievable. The Mountain found out about a secret that should never have been leaked, and Littlefinger was truly terrified!
Without making a sound, the Mountain poured Littlefinger another glass of wine, which Littlefinger drank in one gulp.
Little Finger drank seven cups of wine before his bluish-purple face began to flush.
The Mountain put away the wine bottle and glass, looking at him with a detached gaze.
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Littlefinger raised his head; the cold sweat had stopped, and the alcohol helped him stare steadily into the eyes of the Mountain.
"Sir, what do you want?" Littlefinger asked.
This statement fully demonstrates that reason has returned to Littlefinger's mind.
"I want Tywin Lannister to sit on the Iron Throne," the Mountain said calmly, looking serenely at Littlefinger's shocked expression.
Silence fell, and the space became unusually quiet, as if no one was in the room.
"It's difficult!" Littlefinger said. He finally realized that the Mountain was no longer the crude, slow-witted, headache-prone Mountain he knew.
"Help Lord Tywin ascend the Iron Throne, and your reward will be the opportunity to become a true duke with land and military power, or I will tell Lord Tywin your entire conspiracy. The choice is yours."
Littlefinger stared at the Mountain, realizing he couldn't see through him at all. In the Mountain's eyes, he saw no desire, no evasion, no cunning, no sharpness; he only saw an ordinary pair of eyes.
This sent a chill down Little Finger's spine!
He disliked people whose eyes revealed no inner emotions. Lord Tywin was such a person.
"What do you want me to do, sir!"
"I will take you to see Lord Tywin. My grandmother has already told the Duke that the Westerlands will go to war with the North, and you are the one who started the war. You have to admit that."
"No!" Littlefinger was startled and immediately refused. "Does the Duke already know that I had Lysa write the false letter to Caitlin?"
"The Duke knows nothing about any of your schemes or plots. He only knows that you have done things that are detrimental to the Lannister family of the West, and that the prophesied war is related to you."
"Then how should I face the Duke? Please teach me, Your Excellency!"
"Duke Tywin already knows about Cersei and Jaime's incest. When you meet the Duke, you can tell him that you had someone hint at this to Eddard Stark, and that you suspect Jon Arryn's death is also related to this."
"Did Cersei and Jaime poison Jon Snow to prevent their incestuous relationship from being exposed?" Littlefinger asked.
"Yes!"
The Mountain's intention was to use Cersei and Jaime's incestuous relationship to help him cover up the truth.
"Then how can I save my life?"
"It's very simple. You can persuade Lysa Tully to send troops to help the Westerlands fight against the North and the Riverlands. Lord Tywin cannot defeat the North, the Riverlands, and the Vale at the same time. Your strategy of turning the Vale against Tywin and seizing their power is an offer that Lord Tywin cannot refuse. Not only will the Duke not refuse, he will also use his power to help you take over the Vale."
Littlefinger Petyr Baelish looked at the Mountain for a long time, then whispered, "You can't be the Mountain!"
"You are no longer Littlefinger. Before I take you to see Lord Tywin, you must swear allegiance to me before the Seven," the Mountain said. He clapped his hands three times, and the door was pushed open. A witch, her hair disheveled and face obscured, dressed in a grey wizard's robe, walked in barefoot, holding a black, spiked object and a small glass bottle.
The Mountain said calmly, "Littlefinger, my grandmother wants another vial of your blood. The last vial was cursed and can't be used. As long as your blood is in my hands, I can predict what you want to do, so don't try anything funny with me."