The flames died down, and the strange phenomenon vanished.
Arthur turned to look at the soldiers, finding them staring at him in confusion; they didn't know what had happened, only that Lord Arthur had been walking towards the flames as if out of his mind, and they had fortunately pulled him back in time.
Arthur turned back to look at the traces of the recent burning.
If you asked Arthur if he believed in gods, the answer was, here, he did.
At least in the world of Ice and Fire, the main religions, apart from the Seven Gods, truly had so-called miracles.
He might have inexplicably triggered a sacrificial ritual, after all, he had just burned so many heads, which was simply astonishing.
And the god associated with fire was R'hllor, also known as the Lord of Light, the Heart of Holy Flame, the God of Shadow and Flame.
But he had never heard of R'hllor revealing his true form.
The air was filled with the smell of charcoal and an indescribable scorching afterglow, as if the towering flames just now were no ordinary fire, but had been drawn directly from R'hllor's divine realm.
Arthur took a deep breath, trying to calm the violent pounding in his chest.
The fire dragon he saw just now, the surge of power, that feeling of being connected to the very essence of fire in the entire world, was not an illusion.
He seemed to have attracted the attention of some supernatural power, which was by no means a good thing.
He knew nothing of R'hllor's doctrines, let alone any fervent faith.
Why did He cast His gaze upon him? Was it merely because the scale of the sacrifice was large enough? Or was it because there was something special about him?
It couldn't be that the flames from the burning mountain of piled-up heads had formed a strong "signal" in the darkness, attracting the attention of that thing, and he just happened to be the one who ordered the fire to be lit, could it?
Especially since R'hllor's followers would burn people at the slightest provocation, which was terrifying.
If the Seven Gods' tenets, though not followed by anyone, at least provided norms for mortal thoughts and actions, R'hllor's existence was entirely to counter His mortal enemy, the Great Other, the ancient alien god, the God of Darkness, the Soul of Ice, the God of Night and Fear, the God of Darkness, Cold, and Death.
He had no moral guidelines for mortals, as if He didn't care, yet the miracles He displayed gave Him the most widespread followers in Essos.
People yearned for His gaze, to receive His blessings, and to glimpse conspiracies and the future in the flames.
Arthur did not want to rely on such power; so-called "gods" would never help someone without reason, and the price might be impossible to repay.
But then he suddenly thought of his transmigration; wasn't this body's existence in this world a so-called resurrection, and the powerful soul compatibility that gave him immense strength and heightened senses, wasn't that the so-called gaze and blessing?
Arthur felt a chill run down his spine.
It seemed he would have to try to avoid fire-related activities in the future.
"What belongs to mortals, stays in the mortal world," Arthur continuously chanted to himself.
— — — — — —
Lady Rona woke from an uneasy sleep, groggy, and sat up abruptly, looking around her empty bedroom.
She had experienced too much these days; her spirit was fragile, her heart weak, and she only felt safe when she was by Arthur's side, even though the boy was so much younger than herself.
Yet he was so imposing, in front of his soldiers, in her castle.
"Lord Arthur?" she tentatively called out, her voice inexplicably hoarse, but no one answered.
A sudden panic and fear gripped her heart again, as if the safety she had just found was lost once more; her heart pounded rapidly, she was afraid to be alone now, she wanted to see Arthur by her side.
She threw off the covers, stepped barefoot onto the cold stone floor, and hurried to the door.
Outside the door stood two unfamiliar soldiers; she didn't recognize them, which made her even more anxious.
The two soldiers' faces were expressionless, their gazes fixed straight ahead, as if they hadn't seen her.
"Where is Lord Arthur?" Lady Rona asked urgently.
"Where is Lord Arthur?"
One of the soldiers slightly turned aside, clearing the path, but said nothing.
Lady Rona's heart sank, and she quickly walked out of the bedroom.
In the corridor, soldiers in the same attire stood at regular intervals; their gazes were steady, vigilantly surveying their surroundings, as if the inner castle had changed masters overnight.
No one saluted her, as if she was no longer the mistress of this castle; she walked faster and faster, more and more urgently, she felt as if her feet were scraped by something on the ground, but she felt no pain.
Those familiar faces, the attendants and guards, were all gone; her heart grew more and more panicked, this castle seemed to no longer belong to her, she began to sense something, but she refused to believe that young man would do such a thing, yet she also thought that perhaps that young man was no different from those other people.
She staggered, leaning against the wall, walking step by step towards the inner castle exit; she dared not think further, tears welled up in her eyes, she had already realized that Arthur was also after her land.
"My Lady, you're awake." A gentle, joyful voice came from behind her.
Lady Rona turned around as if electrified, seeing Arthur standing not far away, a smile on his face, the morning light outlining his tall figure, so calming.
He held a tray with steaming porridge and a piece of bread.
"Lord Arthur!" Lady Rona exclaimed as if she had found a lifeline, seemingly forgetting her earlier fear and suspicion.
The suspicion vanished from her mind the moment she saw Arthur again, even though she had already realized that Arthur was also after her territory, she still rushed towards him regardless.
Arthur steadily caught her, letting her bury her head in his embrace, her body trembling violently from lingering fear.
"It's alright, My Lady," Arthur gently stroked her head, as if comforting a frightened small animal.
"Everything is over, My Lady."
He placed the tray aside, picked up the Lady, and gently set her down on a low chair, then sat beside her.
"Those people… those soldiers…" Lady Rona stammered, tears in her eyes, pointing outside, like a spoiled little girl.
"I… don't know them… don't… know them."
"They are my soldiers," Arthur explained, supporting her shoulder.
"The traitors in the castle have been purged by me, My Lady, you are safe now."
He paused, looking at Lady Rona's pale face, and added, "With me here, My Lady, you are absolutely safe, no one will ever have the chance to harm you again." Except for me.
Lady Rona stared at him blankly, seemingly unable to digest the news at once; she knew what had happened, she could feel it, those people, Arthur, but she didn't care anymore, she just focused on Arthur in front of her.
"I have already sent people to bring a batch of grain from outside the city into the castle's warehouse," Arthur pointed towards the warehouse outside the window.
"Enough for your castle to last until the next harvest in your territory, or even longer."
Arthur thought to himself, as for how the grain came to be, don't ask!
"Really?" Her voice still trembled, but it carried a hint of surprise, and her eyes gradually lit up.
"Of course." Arthur smiled slightly, stroking her hair.
"Moreover, I will give you half of my own spoils of war, to help your territory overcome this difficult period."
Lady Rona felt as if she had instantly ascended from hell to heaven; she suddenly stood up, cupped Arthur's face in her hands, and pressed a soft, wet kiss on his young cheek.
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