Chapter 198: Who Is the God of Cold?
Daenerys never took her eyes off the spot where Drogon had been dragged beneath the waves.
Minutes passed.
The sea remained eerily still.
Unable to bear the uncertainty any longer, she ordered the fleet to move toward the area.
The ships had covered only half the distance when the ocean suddenly swelled upward.
A massive bulge rose from beneath the surface.
Clasping her hands tightly and staring wide-eyed at the sea, Daenerys felt her heart pounding.
Then she saw it.
A gigantic black wing broke through the water.
"Drogon! It's Drogon!"
Her voice rang out with pure joy.
When Drogon had vanished beneath the sea and the water had gradually fallen silent, she had truly believed she might never see him again.
Now that he had resurfaced, all her anger over the coordinated attacks simply vanished.
Drogon thrust his head from the water and drew in a deep breath of fresh air.
Only then did he drag the Drowned God up after him.
The sight left everyone stunned.
The creature that emerged behind Drogon was barely recognizable.
Only two pitiful tentacles remained.
The rest had been torn away.
Daenerys stared in disbelief.
The Ironborn were even more shocked.
Since pledging themselves to Daenerys, they had found themselves caught between two loyalties.
When the battle began, they hadn't even known which side they wanted to win.
On one hand stood Drogon.
On the other stood the deity they had worshipped their entire lives.
For a brief moment, many had simply frozen.
Then duty had forced them back into battle against the enemy fleets.
Even so, none of them had truly believed Drogon could defeat their god.
Drogon was powerful.
But he was still a dragon.
The Drowned God was a god.
The comparison seemed obvious.
And yet—
Now they were staring at their divine being hanging limply from Drogon's claws, stripped nearly bald of its tentacles.
The shock was so great that many Ironborn momentarily forgot the enemy fleets were closing in for battle.
Drogon rose into the air and surveyed the battlefield.
With Rhaegal and Viserion joining the fight, Dragonstone's forces had already reversed their earlier disadvantage.
For the moment, the fleet was safe.
Satisfied, he lowered the Drowned God back onto the water's surface.
Only then did he turn his attention inward.
Following the creature's instructions, he sank his consciousness into the divine light within his mind and began constructing a channel for transmitting thoughts.
This wasn't entirely new to him.
When he had remotely healed Aka's mother, he had already created a similar connection.
Compared to that, sending thoughts was much simpler.
The link formed quickly.
Almost immediately, he sensed a divine domain surrounding the Drowned God.
"Like this?"
He projected the thought through the channel.
The response arrived instantly.
Faster than spoken words.
"Yes. Exactly like that."
The speed surprised Drogon.
It was more efficient than normal conversation.
After a brief pause, he got straight to the point.
"Suppose I spare you."
"What's to stop you from recovering your strength and coming after me again?"
His golden eyes narrowed.
The Drowned God had nearly dragged him to the bottom of the ocean.
It wasn't exactly the sort of opponent one simply released on trust.
Especially not a god.
Especially not one that had just tried very hard to kill him.
And somewhere beyond that question lurked an even greater mystery.
If this creature truly was the Drowned God worshipped by the Ironborn...
Then who exactly had sent it?
And more importantly—
Who was the mysterious God of Cold behind the Night King?
Compared to whatever information the Drowned God might reveal and the potential threat he posed in the future, Drogon felt that killing him and absorbing his divine essence would be a far more practical reward.
The Drowned God immediately sensed that Drogon still hadn't abandoned the idea of killing him.
He hurriedly transmitted his thoughts.
"After this, I won't come after you again. And they probably won't either."
"They?" Drogon asked. "Who are they? And why wouldn't they come after me?"
"Promise not to kill me first, and I'll tell you."
The Drowned God refused to answer so easily.
Drogon's eyes narrowed.
"Do you really think you're in a position to negotiate?"
A dangerous glow flickered in his pupils.
"Believe me, I can turn you into divine essence right now."
The Drowned God stubbornly replied:
"You truly know nothing. What remains after a god dies is called a Divine Spark—not divine essence."
"And if you won't spare me, then I won't tell you anything."
Drogon snorted.
"I'll learn the truth eventually."
Having lost patience, he opened his jaws.
Black dragonfire rolled through his throat.
He was about to incinerate the Drowned God where he floated.
"Wait! I'll talk! I'll tell you everything!"
The Drowned God finally gave in.
The moment he sensed the terrifying heat gathering in Drogon's mouth, all thoughts of bargaining vanished.
Drogon withdrew the dragonfire and fixed his gaze on the god's pale, lifeless eyes.
"Talk."
The Drowned God hesitated briefly before speaking.
"This operation wasn't just me."
"The ones who planned to eliminate you and Dragonstone's army included the Lord of Light, the Seven, and the Many-Faced God."
"The Spirit God was supposed to participate as well, but for some reason never joined."
Drogon's eyes narrowed.
"The Doom of Valyria was your work too, wasn't it?"
"If that's the case, why are there only a few of you this time?"
"And who exactly is the Spirit God? I've never heard of such a god."
The Drowned God explained:
"Precisely because we caused the Doom of Valyria."
"Many gods exhausted themselves in that catastrophe."
"Some fell into deep slumber. Others only recently awakened."
"Their divine power hasn't recovered enough to justify appearing."
He paused before continuing.
"As for the Spirit God..."
"That's the being mortals call the Old Gods."
"The deity worshipped by the Children of the Forest and the Greenseers."
"'Old Gods' is simply a collective title for ancient divine beings."
The moment he heard that explanation, Drogon immediately understood why Bran had insisted on accompanying the fleet to Dragonstone.
Bran must have foreseen that several gods would unite against him.
Yet he had said absolutely nothing.
Was he simply enjoying the spectacle?
Or had he secretly hoped the alliance of gods would kill him?
And had Bran forgotten that if Daenerys were defeated, Cersei would undoubtedly move against House Stark next?
The more Drogon thought about it, the more dissatisfied he became.
For a Greenseer of House Stark, Bran's behavior was suspiciously unhelpful.
Apparently the boy still needed occasional reminders not to get too clever.
Putting Bran aside for the moment, Drogon returned to the more immediate question.
"If the Lord of Light, the Seven, and the Many-Faced God were all involved..."
"Why didn't any of them come to save you?"
The Drowned God lowered his eyes.
A trace of bitterness appeared in his voice.
"Because even if they had come, they probably couldn't have saved me."
Drogon blinked.
"Why not?"
"Aren't they stronger than you?"
Instead of answering immediately, the Drowned God rolled his eyes dramatically.
Then he sighed.
"You really know very little about gods."
"The Lord of Light, the Seven, the Many-Faced God, the Spirit God, and most of the others are different from us."
"They have no physical bodies."
"Only spiritual forms existing within their divine realms."
"To exert influence in the world, they must either work through believers or possess mortal vessels."
His tone grew increasingly resentful.
"The gods never fully recovered after jointly destroying Valyria."
"That includes me."
"Even when they possess followers, they aren't necessarily stronger than a god who still possesses a physical body."
Only then did Drogon understand why the Drowned God had seemed weaker than expected.
And with that realization came considerable relief.
After all, the Drowned God alone had nearly dragged him to the bottom of the sea.
If several veteran gods had appeared in person, Drogon suspected he'd be the one reduced to a Divine Spark.
Dragonstone's entire fleet would likely have been annihilated as well.
Feeling much less concerned, he moved on to another matter.
"What about the White Walkers?"
"Are they truly gone?"
The Drowned God shook his head.
"I don't know."
"They may return someday."
That answer surprised Drogon.
"Then what about the God of Cold?"
"What kind of being is he?"
The Drowned God's response was equally unexpected.
"I don't know where he is."
"I don't know whether he even has a physical form."
"In fact, the name 'God of Cold' came from the Lord of Light."
Drogon's eyes widened slightly.
The Drowned God continued:
"Eight thousand years ago, Azor Ahai—while possessed by the Lord of Light—personally slew the Night King."
"When the Night King appeared again, the Lord of Light concluded that another deity must exist behind him."
"A god representing darkness, cold, and death."
Drogon was stunned.
So after all this time, the terrifying enemy Melisandre believed stood opposite R'hllor might have been nothing more than R'hllor's own assumption.
The so-called God of Cold might not even be a confirmed existence.
Seeing the dismissive look in Drogon's eyes, the Drowned God immediately warned him.
"Even if none of us know what the God of Cold truly is, don't underestimate him."
"R'hllor was close to manifesting a physical body."
"If a being that powerful regarded the God of Cold as a greater threat than dragons themselves..."
"Then he must have had a reason."
The warning hung heavily between them as storm clouds gathered over the sea.
[WHERE IS THE SUPPORT FOR TODAY'S CHAPTER 👀]
Want faster updates? Send those stones my way—the more, the merrier. Read early at [email protected]/A_divin5