Two unfamiliar terms entered Viserys's mind, but he was unable to utter a response.
"You do not know?"
That ancient, timeworn voice echoed in his mind once more.
Viserys's heart tightened. He realized the creature could hear his thoughts. What kind of cheat-like ability was this?
"No, of course I know!" Viserys said firmly.
At a time like this, he absolutely couldn't admit ignorance.
It was probably because the creature believed he knew these things that it spared his life.
'But if he can read minds… doesn't that mean he knows I'm lying?'
The thought surfaced in Viserys's mind and cold sweat immediately drenched his back.
Fortunately, the giant turtle had only judged from his expression that he didn't understand — it was not actually hearing his inner thoughts.
The voice in his head felt closer to a form of "transmission," not mind-reading.
"Then tell me — why does your body bear blessings of both water magic and fire magic? Are you a follower of the Red God?" the turtle asked.
"The Red God? You mean R'hllor—"
"The name must not be spoken!" The giant turtle slammed its massive claw into the river.
Water splashed everywhere, drenching Viserys from head to toe. His silver hair clung to his face.
But immediately, the turtle added, "Use a title instead. I cannot say or hear that name."
'It seems R'hllor isn't just real — his rank must be insanely high,' Viserys thought.
But his reaction also confirmed to the turtle that he wasn't a believer of the Red God. After all, all of R'hllor's followers called him the Lord of Light.
"I am not the Red God's chosen, nor his follower," Viserys said. "But I am blessed."
After all, blessing himself still counted as a blessing.
It was only now that Viserys understood why the giant turtle — the Old Man of the River — thought he might be a "saint" or a "blessed one."
Saint might be harder to grasp, but blessed was simple.
Blessing meant receiving a fate, fortune, or power from some higher source.
And a teenager mastering both advanced fire and water magic — that was far from normal.
That was why the Old Man thought he was blessed.
He also recalled Lothan saying that the Old Man of the River had once been blessed by the Mother of the Rhoyne River. It all made sense now.
"No. You are lying. You are not blessed — you are the one who blesses."
As expected, creatures that had lived for thousands of years were not easily fooled.
Viserys felt as though its words were a heavy blade, slowly being drawn and ready to fall on his neck.
Then the ancient being looked at those still trapped in illusions and said, "Strange. How do you have apostles? You have no godhood."
The turtle turned its gigantic head back to Viserys. Clearly, whether human or beast, some instincts were universal: If one eats you, perhaps they can gain your power.
This creature obviously wanted the ability to grant blessings for itself.
The next moment, the warship-sized turtle began to move. Before his eyes, its body seemed to grow larger.
Each step forward made it more colossal — like a moving mountain.
Viserys had no doubt that in the very next breath it might open its jaws and swallow him whole.
He didn't know whether his golden-finger ability would transfer to someone else if he died.
In that split second, an idea struck him, "You want to eat me? Are you not afraid I'll reincarnate?"
The turtle paused.
Clearly, he had startled it.
To be honest, Viserys didn't even know if it would work.
But in the tales of ice and fire, there was a widely spread prophecy — that the next savior would be the reincarnation of Azor Ahai.
If a savior could be reborn, why not a god?
What if someone ate a god's reincarnation — would the god not retaliate?
And if the reincarnation still possessed such power, then surely he must be an extremely powerful god.
Before the old turtle could react, Viserys continued quickly to avoid being exposed, "I often dream—of crowds kneeling before me.
I seem to be a statue. I cannot remember who I am. If you eat me, we will become mortal enemies.
My loss will be immense as well. But if you help me awaken my memories of my past life, perhaps… I can help you."
The Old Man of the River hesitated for a while, then slowly spoke, "You know how to help me?"
"I don't know," Viserys calmly answered. "That is why I need you to awaken my memories first."
Feeling the oppressive aura gradually weaken, Viserys pressed forward, "Start by explaining what a Saint is. Consider it a favor I owe you."
The giant turtle hesitated. But this was indeed a good deal.
He had seen Viserys bless others with his own eyes. The possibility of reincarnation was real.
He might be some true god — or even a higher god.
Becoming enemies with such an existence would be foolish.
Better to seize this moment and gain a favor. Perhaps that could change his fate.
"The one called Saint stands above the blessed," the turtle explained. "He carries the will of the gods, tasked with fulfilling a divine mission. He may receive divine power directly — or act through the aid of his deity."
Viserys nodded and asked, "Then what about godhood you mentioned?"
"To obtain a divine seat, one must first possess divinity," the turtle said after some thought, avoiding certain forbidden names.
"For example—the Seven. The Smith is the god of strength. The Mother is the god of life. The Father is the god of justice.
For these waters, I am its minor god."
Viserys gave him a look, signaling him to explain further.
"Divinity determines the lowest level of one's godhood. Godhood rises with the number of believers.
The Mother is said to have raised ten thousand children. It was these children who forged her divinity.
As for me—after controlling these waters for ten thousand years, I gained divinity. My divinity is stronger than the Mother's. But because too few worship me, my godhood is not higher than hers."
Viserys understood.
Divinity is the foundation — the qualification to ascend. Godhood is the rank — determined by faith and followers.
After listening, he considered carefully and said, "I think I'm starting to remember something… but it still slips away. I'll repay this favor someday.
Tell me—what do you want me to do for you?"
The old turtle raised its head high. In its turquoise eyes burned a deep, fervent desire.
"I want—to become a true god!"
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