"Roar!"
"Awooo!"
"Aaah!"
"Caw!"
Azure starlight rose slowly over the ruins of East Sea Watch. In the next instant, several thunderous howls exploded around the blue star. They were not sounds of nature, but the roars of gods.
This was no metaphor. Those were truly gods roaring.
Even ten kilometers away from East Sea Watch, the furious cries still rumbled in their ears like crashing thunder.
At first, the sounds seemed like gales shrieking, waves surging, crows calling, the earth shaking, and the heavens collapsing. Yet gradually, every watchman began to hear the fierce and majestic emotions hidden behind those natural tones.
Within the wailing wind they heard laughter and fury coexisting, two contradictory emotions at once. They heard it, and their heads spun, their ears rang.
Within the surging waves they heard malice and joy, again two clashing, simultaneous emotions. They heard it, and their souls trembled as blood spilled from their ears.
Within the crows' cries they heard devoted worship mixed with yearning lament. They heard it, and their souls felt as if struck by a speeding truck again and again, until they finally lost consciousness and collapsed onto the deck.
Nine out of ten sailors had already fallen. Only the strongest-willed warriors remained standing in the freezing fog, hearing shrieks that tore at their souls, like blades scraping across glass beside their ears for ten thousand years. They clutched their heads and wailed, wishing they could simply faint.
There were many more voices, but they could no longer distinguish what they were.
They heard correctly. These were not only the sounds of nature. Gods were roaring, laughing, cursing, pleading.
The Night King was present.
The Drowned God strode across the surf.
The Storm God rode a spiraling tornado.
The maimed Three-Eyed Raven, Bran, "rode" upon crows.
Even the Lord of Light, R'hllor, parted the heavy leaden clouds and cast his radiance down upon the gates of the mortal world.
Beyond them, countless other gods and demons lingered. Some projected their will. Some hid within the tide of magic as spectators. Some descended personally. Others lurked nearby, ready to snatch advantage from the chaos.
One could say that every deity and fiend of the world of ice and fire who had the right to intervene had at least committed a fragment of consciousness. Those without the ability but with the desire still devoted their attention.
Well, excluding the newly ascended Seven.
The Dragon Queen barely qualified to intervene, but she knew little of ancient secrets and never imagined something like this would happen at the Wall.
So on the topmost garden of the Great Pyramid, she lounged on a reclining chair, wearing a silk shirt and trousers, barefoot, enjoying the increasingly rare "sunset"—though technically, it was afternoon.
Her centaur handmaid Qiqi massaged her shoulders, while Eyri alternated feeding grapes, dates, and strawberries into her mouth.
Little Mist drifted in midair singing a lilting melody, while more than a dozen musicians with harps, pianos, trumpets, violins, and drums prepared accompaniment.
Across the garden lawn, sixteen slender, graceful maidens danced like willows swaying in the wind.
Their flowing sleeves caught the breeze, their jeweled headpieces glittered in the sunlight, and they offered the Dragon Queen a serene and elegant dance.
Blackie, Greenie, and the other three dragons lay sprawled atop a low garden wall, eyes half-closed, enjoying a rare peaceful afternoon with their mother.
After the Meereen campaign, the Dragon Queen had slipped into a life of unprecedented leisure.
"Lord God, I am the Storm God. Without the Song of Storms, what am I? Hand over your final legacy to me!" The Eye of the Storm howled toward the blue star.
"Lord God, without wind there are no waves. I am the Drowned God. Without the Song of Storms, how can I command the seas? Lord God, you must choose me as your heir!" The patched face within the waves shouted skyward, golden light spraying from his eyes.
"You are already true gods and no longer my subordinate deities." A tired and frail voice drifted from within the blue star.
It was the Gate God.
"No, Lord God. I will forever be your subordinate, and you will forever be my Lord." The patched face and the Eye of the Storm both cried out with joy, voices overlapping.
"Well, since you still call me Lord God..." The Gate God drew a weak breath and spoke slowly, "then in the name of the Lord God, I announce… you may leave."
The Drowned God.
The Storm God.
Had their forms been visible, both faces would undoubtedly have twisted.
The patched face froze in shock, and even the tornado wavered for a heartbeat.
"Your legacy..." the patched face stammered.
"None for either of you." The Gate God's wavering voice carried a trace of impatience.
The patched face and the Storm God fell silent, yet neither departed.
"Old friend, you are right. Your legacy cannot fall into the hands of those two useless evil gods." The light of the sun flared dazzlingly bright, illuminating the ruins of East Sea Watch as if it were midday.
Well, it was nearly noon anyway.
The sunlight seemed strange, all brilliance with no warmth.
The air remained bitterly cold.
"I am the savior destined at the end of this age. I will end the Long Night and bring a new sun, a new summer, and a new era to the world.
Old friend, give your earthly kingdom to me. Only in my hands can it be used to its fullest." The Lord of Light, R'hllor, radiated like blazing gold.
The Gate God fell silent.
"Mother Goddess, according to the agreement ten-thousand years ago, when you finally fade into oblivion, you must grant your divine kingdom to one of your believers!" the raven cawed, its voice carrying urgent and pleading intent.
The Gate God remained silent.
"Heh, heh, heh. If this chunk of dead wood won't hand itself over, can't we just take it by force? It's been dead for ten thousand years. Now it cannot even remain asleep and is about to vanish completely, yet you lot are still so timid. What is there to be afraid of?" A burst of cruel, vicious laughter came from the dark sky.
Then several black shadows rode the wind and snow, streaking swiftly toward the azure star.
The star was clearly suspended high in the sky, yet the black shadows seemed to strike an illusion.
No, not an illusion.
The azure star was like a black hole, actually absorbing and devouring every wisp of shadow that passed near it.
"What?" The vicious laughter turned into a cry of terror. "Ahhh, why is this happening? Spare me, no!"
"Idiot. If brute force worked, why would we have waited all this time, waited ten thousand years, waiting for it to truly step into annihilation?Why would we abandon the dignity of true gods and humble ourselves here, begging so miserably?"
Thunderous mockery rang out from the shadows in the direction of the Ghost Forest.
The Lord of Light said urgently, "Old friend, I don't need all your inheritance. I only want your innate divine art."
"Old ghost, you really dream big. Wind Song has already been started by Daenerys. With your inferior cultivation talent, even if you got 'The Wind of One Realm,' you still couldn't compete with her, just like back then when you couldn't compete with Goat Egg."
A sinister, cold laugh drifted from the dark shadows in the west.
"Bastard! You, a mere minor evil god, dare speak to me like that!"
R'hllor flew into a rage. The brilliant great sun suddenly turned incandescent white, projecting a scalding beam of white light toward the western shadows.
"Ahhh!" Ice and snow melted under the sunlight. The shadows on the ground were like boiling oil in a pot, and a sinister voice wailed in agony.
"Heart Tree, with so many gods here to see you off, you should at least give us some benefit in return.
We do not want your Wind Song or the Wind of One Realm, but your talent of time and space must be handed over."
One shadow dissipated, and another spread in from a different direction. An evil, cold voice sounded within it.
The Gate God let out a heavy sigh. "Sorry, everyone. My possessions will only be given to my heir."
"Caw, caw, caw!" Bran was overjoyed. "Mother Goddess, I will not fail your trust."
"No, not to you," the Gate God immediately denied.
The raven carrying Bran's will nearly fell to the ground. "Wh-why? I am the Three-Eyed Raven of this generation!"
"The Three-Eyed Raven. Are you worthy?" Just a trace of mental fluctuation almost froze this entire world.
It was the Night King.
With an umbrella-hilt sword on his back, he stood proudly atop the ruins of the Wall. Thick freezing mist enveloped several hundred meters around him. Sunlight, storms, and shadows could not draw near.
"Mother Goddess, give the divine kingdom to me. Let me help you complete your final mission," he said.
"No, don't give it to him," Bran said anxiously. "Mother Goddess, he will destroy your beloved sunlight, rain, and mornings. A world of darkness and icy death is not what you desire."
"Darkness, coldness, order, and silence are the true appearance of the world at its beginning. Flames that recklessly squander the heart of the earth and construct an illusory sun only hasten the world's death, ultimately pushing it into an even darker, colder, more despairing abyss," the Night King said coldly.
"Sorry. I long for sunlight and rain. I cannot give the divine kingdom to you, even if you represent another me and come to claim what belongs to it," the Gate God sighed.
The Night King fell silent.
Bran let out a sigh of relief and asked again, "Mother Goddess, is your heir Jon? He bears the destiny of a savior and has completed the talent of the Holy Spirit. He is indeed more qualified than I am to be your heir."
"No. My heir is Daenerys."
"I only have nunchaku, hehe haha hey," Xiao Wu sang a line, then puckered her lips and stopped. "Mother Daenerys, I don't want to sing this song. It sounds so silly."
The group of dancers quietly nodded as well. They could not dance to something like that.Uh, a sudden shift in tone. The traditional song-and-dance of the world of Ice and Fire could no longer satisfy the Dragon Queen.
She wore frog-eye sunglasses, lazily resting her head on her arm, a straw in her mouth, sipping a cup of mango juice held by Missandei, and said indistinctly, "Then sing 'You Don't Go.'"
"Then I'd better sing 'Nunchaku,'" Xiao Wu shuddered and said dejectedly.
"My divine kingdom will be given to Daenerys."
"What?" Bran was dumbfounded.
"Supreme God, what are you doing? That woman doesn't even believe in you!" Patchface shouted in shock and anger.
"Supreme God, we are your subordinate gods. She is nothing!" the storm roared furiously.
"I don't want subordinate gods, and I don't want followers either," the Gate God said helplessly.
It was all of you who came clinging over on your own.
"Why?" Bran came back to his senses. "She is not of the First Men, not a believer of the Old Gods, and she herself is not even in Westeros."
"Because she passed the test," the Gate God sighed.
"What test?"
"She once entered the divine kingdom and took up Wind Song. After understanding that Wind Song was the cornerstone stabilizing the Wall, she immediately gave up the power within easy reach.
She then exhausted her own magic to repair the damaged Wall.
I will only hand power to someone who can use it with restraint. Daenerys is such a person."
"This is unfair!" Bran shouted unwillingly. "If you want to choose an heir who reveres power, which of the Green Seers throughout history was not diligent, cautious, and afraid to misuse even the slightest bit of the 'Mark of the Green Seer'? Why not choose us?"
"All generations were like that, except you," the Night King mocked coldly.
(End of chapter)
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