"Great—Mighty—Heavenly—Dragon!"
The burning fish-beam wood flared like a terrestrial firebrand, flames surging twenty to thirty meters high. Suddenly, a vast, solemn, and sacred voice resounded from midair.
Like an evening drum and morning bell, it was deafening and soul-cleansing.
In an instant, the fear everyone felt toward the twisted black shadow within the flames vanished completely.
They looked up to the sky and saw a white-gold palm, as large as the board of a double bed, descending from above and slamming down hard onto the struggling, wailing King Aegon.
With a thunderous crash, the surrounding crimson flames exploded outward. Sparks flew, charcoal scattered, ash filled the air, as if a missile had struck King Aegon.
At the same time, the shadowy tentacles wrapped around him also burst apart.
"Chi-chi-chi-chi." The black shadow writhed, emitting a sound that clawed at the soul.
The Knights of the Fiery Heart, who had been chanting the Red God's sacrificial rites, fell abruptly silent, staring in shock and at a loss. The Northmen, the Vale lords, and the mercenaries from across the Narrow Sea were likewise struck dumb with inexplicable terror.
"What's going on?" Stannis cried out in alarm.
As everyone stood stunned and bewildered, the surrounding flames were drawn by a mysterious force, rapidly converging above King Aegon's charred, twitching "corpse."
They gathered into a ferocious giant dragon, its eyes wide with fury.
As vast amounts of flame were absorbed into the fire dragon's body, its form gradually shifted from illusory to solid.
Melisandre's gaze sharpened, and the ruby at her throat blazed with brilliant red light.
Before the fire dragon, formed from the fusion of flame and faith-born divine power, could fully solidify, hundreds of thin, elongated black shadows shot out from the flames like a hedgehog's spines. Like spears, they pierced the dragon all over.
With a loud boom, the giant dragon shattered into countless small fireballs that rained down from the sky.
Dany seized the spotlight with a flawless entrance, only to fail spectacularly the moment she revealed herself.
When the fire dragon exploded, a milky-white orb radiating sacred brilliance was left behind. It was a single thought of the Seven Gods.
Abandoning any attempt to reform the dragon, Dany manifested herself directly before the world in the form of the holy light orb and roared, "Insolent demon! How dare you sacrifice my holy knight upon land blessed by me!"
"Ah, Holy Mother!" A Vale noble suddenly came to his senses, dropping to his knees with a thud. Tears streamed down his face as he cried out tremblingly, "The Holy Mother has descended to the mortal world!"
A wave of shocked cries rippled through the crowd. "Gods above! Have the Seven Gods descended?!"
"It was the false god who drew the Holy Mother here. Aegon is a holy knight blessed by the Seven Gods, a saint of the Seven!" A Vale noble who recognized the mark of a holy knight exclaimed in sudden realization.
"Holy Mother, have mercy. Save my son!"
Regardless of the fact that he had never believed in the Seven Gods before, Illyrio cried out with unprecedented devotion, like a drowning man clutching at his final straw.
There was no need for his frantic pleas. Since the Dragon Queen had arrived, she was naturally not going to let her grand nephew meet such a miserable end.
A low hum filled the air as the crescent-moon-shrouded night sky suddenly spilled down a hazy wash of silver light, nearly covering the entire weirwood grove.
That silver radiance then condensed into a pillar of milky-white, sacred light that descended upon the charred, groaning figure in the fire pit.
At the same time, a golden seven-pointed star sigil lit up on King Aegon's brow. The mark of the holy knight manifested outwardly as spiritual essence poured into his sea of consciousness, helping to mend his shattered soul.
With healing magic from without and soul restoration from within, King Aegon truly seemed on the verge of rebirth.
"The Seven Gods…" Even Stannis, who was usually unshaken by the collapse of mountains before him, now showed panic in his eyes as he looked to the red-robed woman for help.
"The Seven Gods are fake. Throw a dagger at her," Melisandre sneered.
"What?" Stannis was confused.
Melisandre turned back and pointed at the Valyrian steel dagger with a dragonbone hilt at Stannis's waist. "It's Daenerys playing at gods and ghosts. Throw the dagger at her."
"Daenerys?" The fear on Stannis's face vanished, replaced by grinding teeth and eyes filled with shame and fury.
He felt deceived and humiliated.
He drew the Valyrian steel dagger, the ransom Daenerys had given for Asha Greyjoy, strode to the edge of the fire pit, and hurled it with all his strength.
The dagger whistled through the air and struck the light orb dead center.
Though the orb was clearly illusory, it felt as though the blade passed through a mass of cotton candy. The dagger pierced the orb, carrying away a handful of milky-white motes before losing momentum and clattering into a nearby bed of burning coals.
As expected of the greatest demon-slaying weapon in the world, a Valyrian steel blade inflicted a truly fatal wound even upon the Holy Mother Dany, wreathed in sacred radiance.
"Ah! Heretical servant of a false god, how dare you profane the Seven Gods!" The light orb alternately expanded and contracted as a voice of majestic fury transmitted directly into everyone's ears. It was as if thunderbolts were exploding in their minds, leaving hearts in turmoil and thoughts in disarray.
"I shall curse you deeply. A heretic shall never ascend the Iron Throne!"
With a dull explosion, Saint Dany's divine thought shattered. The milky-white orb burst apart, scattering into countless points of white light that vanished beneath the night sky.
Well, this was precisely why, in the world of A Song of Ice and Fire, gods so rarely appeared openly before the masses.
At this moment, Dany was in a true divine state. A god's descent should have been a scene of sacred splendor, but the laws of this world were profoundly hostile to transcendent power. A single Valyrian steel dagger was enough to slay a god with ease.
Even more humiliating was the fact that the Valyrian steel dagger with the dragonbone hilt had originally belonged to Dany herself. No wonder the Valyrians would rather forge sphinx statues from Valyrian steel than allow Valyrian steel weapons to circulate widely.
When the light orb exploded, the pillar of light enveloping King Aegon vanished. Flames and shadows, like living monsters, once again spread toward him, igniting him and wrapping around him.
That horrifying demonic shadow once more settled over everyone's hearts.
Suddenly, a lord of the Vale seemed to jolt awake from a nightmare. His face twisted as he cried out in terror, "Stannis is attacking the Mother!"
"Blasphemy, blasphemy!" the priest of the small sept in Snakewood wailed in anguish, cursing loudly. "Heretics will never set foot on the Iron Throne!"
Previously, when the Second Stag burned the weirwood grove, the people of the Vale were indifferent. When Aegon was burned, they were equally unmoved.
But the Seven were their mainstream faith!
The descent of the Mother, what a tremendous miracle that was.
Yet it was desecrated by heretics in league with a shadowy evil god.
"Heretics, blasphemers!"
"Heretics, blasphemers!"
"Westeros does not need a blasphemous king!"
Almost all the knights and nobles of the Vale joined in the shouting.
The Second Stag's eyes bulged with rage, his teeth grinding until blood filled his mouth.
"Your Majesty, should we just sacrifice them all?" Mel leaned close to his ear and suggested.
The Second Stag's expression flickered between light and dark. After a long moment, he changed the subject and asked, "Can the dragon eggs still be hatched?"
"Of course!" Mel held the stone egg high. Black shadows hung down from beneath it like roots. Before the naked eye, the shell cracked open, revealing within a creature whose black-andred scales slowly writhed.
"A demon dragon is born?!" the Second Stag cried in wild joy.
"Demon dragon, demon dragon, demon dragon!" The Knights of the Fiery Heart, who had been subdued for quite some time, once again erupted into fervent chants.
At that moment, another change occurred.
An inexplicable pressure suddenly enveloped the sacred grove.
It felt as if an enormous mountain, invisible yet substantial, were suspended overhead.
"Hum."
Above King Aegon's charred corpse, about thirty meters from the ground, golden light appeared like a three dimensional projection. It first traced lines of light, then filled in the details along those lines, finally constructing a vivid, towering stone gate.
It was in the style of a Celestial Dynasty archway. The pillars on either side were carved with seven pointed stars, and at the very top hung a plaque bearing the words "Heavenly Mountain" written in the language of Westeros.
"Ah, ah, ah, ah." From behind the gate came an ethereal, youthful female voice. A faint sorrow instantly spread through the hearts of all present.
Well, the little mist spirit had manifested in physical form and been pulled by the Dragon Queen into the space of the Faith of the Seven, serving as an atmosphere enhancing singer.
The Children of the Forest were originally called "those who sing the earth." They might lack other talents, but their singing was unquestionably superb.
Even the Dragon Queen could not help but become intoxicated by it, let alone ordinary people.
A clean, pure rendition of "Castle in the Sky" quieted the entire world.
The Second Stag and Mel were also entranced, briefly sinking into the song and instinctively unwilling to awaken.
With a soft creak, the milky white gate opened, and endless, gentle golden light poured forth.
The golden light fell upon King Aegon's corpse. Any shadows it touched squealed and fled back into the flames.
At last, Mel snapped awake, and the Second Stag came to his senses as well.
By then, the golden light had formed a stairway between the Gate of Heaven and Aegon's body.
"Ahhh!" a knight of the Vale suddenly cried out in disbelief.
For from within the gate emerged, well, not the Mother.
Instead, an elderly man with gray white hair, tall and gaunt, stepped out.
His face was etched with deep, knife carved wrinkles. His thin cheeks made him look somewhat stern and austere, yet his gaze was exceedingly gentle, like a warm spring breeze, akin to a grandmother's silent watchfulness.
His attire was simplicity itself. Aside from a white robe, he wore nothing, and a pair of dark, rough, bare feet were exposed.
A layer of holy white light enveloped his entire body, shimmering but not dazzling.
"The Father!" the old monk of Snakewood cried out excitedly as he fell to his knees.
"The Father." The crowd was about to echo the cry when the same knight of the Vale shouted to stop them. "He is not the Father. He is the High Sparrow! So the High Sparrow has ascended to heaven!"
The old monk's cry cut off abruptly.
"Wasn't the High Sparrow dead?" he asked in confusion.
"That is not a living man. It is a holy spirit. Precisely because he is dead, we can see him at the gate of Heavenly Mountain."
"Is he guarding the gate of Heavenly Mountain?" a man from the North asked doubtfully.
"What is wrong with guarding the gate? Even guarding the gate of Heavenly Mountain is an honor!" a knight devoted to the Seven retorted indignantly.
"No, no, not guarding the gate!" the old monk shook his head repeatedly and shouted excitedly. "The High Sparrow is a guide of heaven, just as described in the Seven Pointed Star Scripture. The Mother smiles upon us, the voice of heaven resounds, the gates of heaven open, and the holy spirit guides the souls of the dead into heaven."
At this point, he seemed to suddenly realize something. "Aegon is about to ascend to heaven. Seven above, he can ascend to heaven too?"
Was the requirement for ascending to heaven a bit too low?
The old monk wore a conflicted expression.
Before he could finish wrestling with it, the High Sparrow had already reached the base of the stairway. He extended a sturdy hand like a withered tree branch and, as if scooping the moon from water, made a gesture over King Aegon's charred face. From the air, he drew forth a tall, powerfully built, silver haired young man.
"Ah, it is truly exactly like the scripture. The High Sparrow is guiding Aegon to heaven."
But at this moment, Aegon's state was terribly wrong. His spirit body was riddled with holes, entwined with dense masses of black shadows like blood sucking leeches. Some of those shadow leeches had already burrowed into his spirit, while others still hung halfway outside, swaying and looking utterly horrifying.
Everyone around, including the Knights of the Fiery Heart, felt their scalps prickle. They could no longer imagine that the process of blood sacrifice to R'hllor was so evil.
"Evil, begone!" The High Sparrow's eyes flared wide with fury as he raised his other hand and slapped it down onto Aegon's head, which was contorted in pain.
(End of chapter)
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