"In the face of the misery of man and the world, faith is the only pillar that sustains survival in the face of adversity." Kinvara, Reverend Mother and Priestess of humanity
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The soldiers made way for Kinvara, creating a corridor, allowing Reverend Mother to walk among the army.
Respect and reverence could be seen in the eyes of every Red Legion soldier, this was Reverend Mother, the Herald of the Red God and the woman who controlled all religion in Essos. You could say she was legendary in the eyes of ordinary people.
Kinvara ignored the stares she was receiving and walked to the front of the line. Looking at the majestic black walls before her, she couldn't help but think that the king who built such a castle was really arrogant. From the castle alone, one could see the arrogance of its creator. However, that castle would be shaken by her in a few moments.
Raising both arms, Kinvara's eyes closed, the ruby on her necklace began to glow with an intense radiance. Incredible amounts of heat emanated from it, causing the air around the priestess to distort violently.
Kinvara opened her eyes and the fireball appeared in front of her, between her hands. The crimson fireball was the size of a palm. Nothing too big, but it was enough to destroy any man in plate armor.
However, under Kinvara's control, the fireball began to grow. From a small fireball the size of a palm to the size of a human head, it then continued to grow while the heat only increased.
Within moments, a gigantic fireball with a diameter of three meters appeared in front of all the soldiers, lords and laddys. The natives of Westeros simply held their breath watching this magical scene.
It seemed as if they were seeing a story straight out of the books, which were previously just pages smeared with ink by a madman, but seeing the magic happening in front of them made them realize that the books they read were not written by madmen, but by true witnesses to a power beyond human comprehension.
(Note: GOT's magic power system is so strange because George Martin said that magic was supposed to be scary and mysterious, so George didn't make any magic systems in his world. What can I understand, it's a pain in the ass to create a tree of magical abilities).
Now, they were also witnesses to the terrifying and mysterious power of magic, which really marked them deeply.
Watching the huge fireball, Visenya couldn't help but show a touch of envy.
"When could I do something like that?" The Queen of Westeros murmured, but assumed that it would take a few years for it to happen. As Aenar had told her, her power would mature with time and a lot of training.
Rhaenys had similar thoughts seeing Kinvara's actions, she had spent the whole night trying to create metals, but apart from some iron dust, she simply couldn't make any other metals.
Aenar smiled and was pleased with the reaction of both women. Envy may seem like a bad feeling to have, but only when you feel envious can you motivate yourself to improve and catch up with the person you were envious of before.
If you're not envious of someone else, it just means that you were content with your current status and didn't care about improving, which was perfectly normal. There were few people who could risk leaving their comfort zone.
There was nothing wrong with being content with what you had, people had choices and you just had to be satisfied with your choices.
"You two don't have to worry." Aenar comforted both women. "Kinvara is over two hundred years old. The two of you will achieve this power in just a few years. Compared to the time Kinvara has trained, a few years is really not much."
Although they knew that Kinvara was older than she looked, Visenya and Rhaenys took a deep breath to hear the priestess's exact age.
"Now I know why the Red Faith has always been the predominant religion in Essos." Visenya commented with an admiring tone. Compared to the Faith of the Seven, which wasn't even a miracle, the Red Faith was extraordinary. Not only could the members manipulate fire, revive the dead and have longevity, how could such a religion not be great?
Compared to other gods, the Red God certainly loved his believers, something that few gods really do. At least she'd only heard of the Red Faith that had these kinds of powers.
"She's started." Aenar spoke, drawing the attention of Visenya and Rhaenys. Both women watched with wide eyes as the huge red fireball flew towards Harrenhal. The fireball tore through the air with brutality and hit the wall hard.
BOODMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!
With the collision, a deafening sound spread across the battlefield as the heat wave spread to the surroundings. Some unlucky soldiers on top of the walls were hit and were reduced to ashes without even having a chance to cry out in pain.
"Incredible." Visenya spoke with a tone of awe, seeing the power of the fireball, she couldn't help but be shocked to the extreme. Seeing a dragon burn an army of sixty thousand people and seeing a human cause such damage were two different things.
She had never imagined that humans could possess that kind of power. In her eyes, before she met Aenar, only gods had such destructive power.
The black stone on which the wall was built melted in the intense heat. When the red flames died down, everyone could see the destruction the attack had caused to the largest castle in Westeros.
A huge hole appeared in the walls, ten meters in diameter and visible even from a distance.
"By the gods, is that power a human should possess?" A murmur came from the lords in the crowd behind Aenar. If Visenya was shocked, even though she had seen even more impressive things, the nobles of Westeros were in complete disbelief at what had happened.
Lords of lesser houses swallowed and showed horrified expressions. Other powerful castles could withstand such attacks, but that didn't mean that their small, fragile castles could withstand such an attack.
This was the same concern that all the Lesser Lords had at the moment. Even Harold, who had recently won The Eyrie, was shocked by what happened at this moment.
He had originally thought that House Targaryen's strength was focused entirely on dragons, but after arriving in the Riverlands and observing everything around him, he learned that dragons were only one part of House Targaryen's power. Powerful armies and witches capable of conjuring fire were equally impressive.
Aenar glanced at all the lords and was pleased to see their expressions. Only when there is awe can genuine reverence be born. These people had to learn that he was powerful and could destroy anything with a simple order from him.
And seeing their expressions, Aenar knew that the secondary purpose of Kinvara's attack had worked perfectly. Only then could his orders be accepted without delay or negligence.
However, what Aenar wanted to see arrived. Looking over the top of the wall, Robert could be seen wearing his silver armor.
Aenar raised the glass of wine in his hand and looked at the man at the top of the wall. Although he knew it was despicable, he didn't care. He will play fair when it comes to the fight between him and Robert, anything other than that, he will play according to the Game of Thrones demands.
Aenar's sharp gaze swept over Robert's angry expression with a sense of pleasure. Again, although he knew it was a bit childish, men were always a bit childish.
On the wall of Harrenhal, although Robert couldn't see Aenar perfectly, the glittering light of the golden goblet was easily seen and he could imagine the act Aenar was doing at that moment.
A feeling of fury bubbled up in Robert's chest. Unlike Rhaegar, who was an impulsive man on many occasions, Aenar had not inherited this trait from his father, but had probably inherited his cunning from his grandfather, Rickard Stark. The man was a wolf, but a malicious wolf full of hidden murderous intent.
Looking at Harrenhal, Robert could feel the extremely low morale hanging in the air. If he dared to leave the walls at this moment, he could imagine that when war broke out, their soldiers would be massacred. And when that happened, there would be escapes and defeat would be declared for House Baratheon.
"Tywin, make a feast and serve the banquet to the soldiers, we'll fight at night." Robert made his decision quickly. If he remained on the ramparts while morale was already low, it could be said that what little morale he had would disappear completely.
The banquet would be a good time to recover his strength and boost his morale; attacking at night, although risky, was a good time to win a victory, even if it was a small one.
"Yes, Your Grace." Tywin replied with a serious tone as he looked at the army outside Harrenhal with a solemn gaze.
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