Read_and_Chill

[A Song of Ice and Fire Fanfiction] Transported into the body Viserys Targaryen, the rightful sovereign of the Andals, Rhoynar, and the First Men, and the Guardian of the Realm, I embrace my title as the 'True Dragon.'
**Update**- I can now confirm this book will be a harem book. around 250ish the book alludes to the possibility of it  while introducing the first confirmed woman the MC sleeps with. 

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Hello everyone, I wanted to diversify my projects a bit after my earlier stumbles and newfound success and motivation from my main translation work as I start to get into a groove of improving my translating abilities. ASOIAF and GoT overall seems to be a popular but have a somewhat underserved audience on here compared to something like Marvel, DC, and shonen jump manga /comics.  
That being said I am very well aware of the rather large distaste for bad Chinese fanfiction translations. I do my best to select works that have a large volume of chapters that are available to me. Given that I’m in the US and don’t have access to things like Alipay or WeChat (believe me I’ve tried :(  ) to get access to more popular sites like b.faloo and my extreme unwillingness to just touch up existing MTL translations means I will continue to have to select from a limited number of projects.
I also know the color of the eye on more human side of the face should be purplish but I'm still super new to using Midjourny as my focus this past month has been more on getting my quality up and creating a stockpile of chapters for my main translation project.-- also I got lucky with the image actually kind of reflecting a more intense version of what I would imagine the "golden finger" looks like.

A Song of Ice and Fire: Wrath of the Sleeping Dragon

The massive ice dragon let out a final, desperate roar before crashing heavily onto the icy plains, stirring up a blinding snowstorm.

Benjen Stark, being too close to the impact, was forced to release the reins of his horse, Red. He found himself buried under the snow, gasping for breath.

Ironically, he no longer needed to breathe. Once, he had struggled against this new reality, trying to draw breath into his lifeless body. But over time, he had grown accustomed to the sensation of not breathing for hours on end.

As Benjen lay on the ground, waiting for the snowstorm to settle, he caught a glimpse of a figure atop the fallen ice dragon. The White Walker wore a crown of ice and wielded an ancient stone sword. Benjen had encountered the Night King once before in Winterfell. He had narrowly escaped then, but the Night King's visage was etched into his memory.

Not long ago, amidst the army of the dead, Benjen had searched for two individuals: his sister, Lyanna Stark, and the Night King, the most formidable of the White Walkers. He had ventured beyond the Wall, seeking clues about the White Walkers to prepare for the impending war between the living and the dead.

The sight of the Night King mounting the ice dragon and driving his mysterious stone sword into its skull filled Benjen with a mix of dread and determination. He reached into his chest and grasped the dragonglass dagger hidden there. The cold touch of the dragonglass sent shivers down his spine, reminding him of his undead state.

Benjen concealed the dagger in his sleeve just as his loyal horse, Red, returned. The horse, now a skeletal creature, approached with a gentle demeanor, despite its grotesque appearance.

"Old friend," Benjen whispered, caressing the horse's mane. He believed that their transformation might be linked to the weirwood tree in Whitetree village, where they had both been ambushed by wights.

"Red, leave this place," Benjen urged, sending the horse away with a gentle pat. The skeletal steed hesitated, looking back at Benjen with a longing in its eyes, before disappearing into the snowstorm.

As the snow settled, the massive form of the ice dragon lay still, its body aflame with blue fire. The Night King stood before it, his hands raised, channeling some arcane magic.

Benjen, the black-clad knight, watched intently. With the dragonglass dagger concealed, he stealthily approached the Night King, blending in with the surrounding wights.

A nearby wight growled, its drooling maw twisted in a grotesque grin. But Benjen paid it no mind. His focus was solely on the figure before him, the Night King.

"Die," Benjen muttered under his breath, drawing the dragonglass dagger from his sleeve. With a determined stride, he lunged at the Night King's back.

Chapter 701: Assassination