In the Oak King's Hall, hundreds of lords cheered as one, celebrating the reconciliation between the Targaryen dynasty and the Faith of the Seven.
They crowded around Aegon and the High Septon, escorting them all the way to the Great Sept in Highgarden.
There, under the gaze of the gods, the Warrior's Sons of the Faith would officially disband.
The Reach was a unique region of Westeros where the Faith of the Seven coexisted with the worship of the Old Gods. The people there associated the Old Gods with Garth Greenhand, their demigod ancestor from the Age of Heroes.
As they stepped into the Great Sept, Septons led them slowly toward several statues, each over ten feet tall.
Aegon's gaze swept lightly over the hall. The domed ceiling was adorned with graceful paintings of the Seven and Garth Greenhand, while the stained glass windows alternately depicted the Seven and the legends of Garth.
Standing before the statues of the Seven, the High Septon introduced Aegon to the sacred scriptures of the Faith.
During a pause, the Septon of the Great Sept respectfully shared with Aegon the legendary feats Garth had performed in the Age of Heroes, the long history of his bloodline's spread through the Reach, and how the people had cleverly blended their ancestral worship of Garth with their belief in the Old Gods to form a faith unique to the region.
Moments later, at a signal from Orys, 5,000 members of the Warrior's Sons were led outside the Great Sept.
Seven of their captains were brought into the sanctum. Under the supervision of the High Septon, they slowly laid down their arms and solemnly placed seven steel swords on the altars before the statues of the Seven.
Outside the sanctum, the 5,000 Warrior's Sons followed suit, surrendering their weapons and handing them over to the Targaryen army as instructed by the High Septon.
"This is but a humble offering from the Faith of the Seven toward Your Grace's glorious conquest," the High Septon said to Aegon.
Aegon graciously accepted his gesture.
Cheers erupted once again in the Great Sept. The hundreds of lords were genuinely pleased with what they witnessed. In Westeros, a land shaped by thousands of years of history, divine authority and royal power had long coexisted in a state of balance, equality, and mutual restraint.
The Faith of the Seven held a special privilege that testified to its influence across Westeros: the right to autonomous judgment.
This right allowed the Faith to carry out private justice in disputes within a lord's territory—without needing the lord's permission.
For Aegon to disarm the Faith of the Seven was an unprecedented achievement in Westeros. Without the aid of the Dragons or the High Septon's cooperation, such a result could only have been won through a cataclysmic, bloody war.
After the ceremony dissolving the Warrior's Sons, Aegon announced in the Great Sept that a seven-day founding festival would be held at Highgarden in one month's time, along with a grand tournament.
He had chosen Highgarden as the site for the celebration because King's Landing, though under construction for two years, still had incomplete foundations and could not support such a large-scale event.
The new kingdom had just been born, and many unresolved matters would be addressed during this grand occasion.
With the day's ceremonies concluded, the lords began to file out.
The High Septon gave Aegon a gentle tug, indicating that he wished to speak with him in private.
Aegon gestured for Orys to bring a few personal guards and follow behind.
The High Septon noted Aegon's caution with a nod of approval, then led him to the open-air prayer platform atop the tower of the High Hall.
There, the king of a newly risen empire and the pontiff of an ancient faith stood side by side, gazing out over the vast plant maze of Highgarden.
The High Septon looked toward Balerion's massive, mountain-like body sprawled outside the Oak King's Hall and sighed deeply.
"It's been decades," he said, "and Balerion's grown even fatter."
Aegon couldn't help but ask, curious, "You've seen Balerion before?"
A nostalgic look came over the High Septon's face as he watched the dragon.
"You could say I'm the person in Westeros who knows Balerion best. Back in Oldtown, I was the one feeding him for Daemion.
In the blink of an eye, more than sixty years have passed... and now Balerion has a new master."
"You knew my grandfather?" Aegon asked. The pieces were falling into place—so this was the connection, the source of the High Septon's goodwill toward House Targaryen. His grandfather had left behind more than just a legacy.
The High Septon spoke with deep fondness.
"Daemion was only about twelve when he came to Oldtown, disguised as a vagrant. His real aim was to use the archives at the Citadel to map out all of Westeros.
I met him while enjoying myself in a tavern. After that, we drank together, whored together, and adventured together—we became fast friends.
It was then he told me who he truly was: a Dragonlord of House Targaryen.
I also had the rare chance to witness the most perfect creature this world has ever known—Balerion.
When Daemion spoke to me openly about House Targaryen's grand conquest, I was filled with excitement, moved by the boldness and ambition of the Dragonlord."
"At that time, I was the second son of House Hightower, without any right of inheritance. My future had only two paths: either enter the Citadel to become a Maester, or join the Faith to help solidify House Hightower's influence within the Faith of the Seven.
But I didn't want to live a life dictated by others. I wanted to follow Daemion and achieve something worthy of being recorded in the annals of Westeros.
So Daemion's dream became my dream. The ambition of House Targaryen became my own.
Thanks to House Hightower's support of the Citadel, members of the main branch had unrestricted access to its library. I took the initiative to steal geographical data on Westeros for him.
Those years at the Citadel with Daemion were the most unforgettable time of my life. We'd drink in taverns and speak freely of our ideals, meticulously planning the structure of the future kingdom after the conquest of Westeros. When we got drunk, we'd indulge ourselves with prostitutes, then head to the coast to feed and keep Balerion company.
Until one day, Daemion came to me in haste, saying that the Kingdom of Volantis had ambushed their navy, and he had to leave Oldtown and return to Dragonstone to protect his family.
I watched him take flight on dragonback, and that was the last time I saw him. After that, we only exchanged a few scattered letters.
I kept hoping Daemion would return to Oldtown, that he would land in Westeros and fulfill the dreams we had as youths. But I waited for decades. By the time I rose to the position of High Septon, all I received was the news of his death. That damn liar—he deceived me for a lifetime."
At that, the High Septon slammed his age-spotted palm heavily against the stone railing.
Aegon turned to look at him and noticed the old man's eyes were already slightly damp.
Aegon spoke softly, "My father told me that back in my grandfather's time, Volantis launched a surprise attack on House Targaryen's navy and a large fleet of merchant ships, causing immense, incalculable losses. The great conquest that had originally been planned for my grandfather's generation had to be delayed—until mine.
The dream you shared with him... I'll be the one to fulfill it. That way, his soul can rest in peace."
The High Septon gave a faint nod and let out a long breath, as if releasing a burden from his heart. He looked at Aegon and said sincerely, "House Targaryen may have completed the physical conquest of Westeros, but the conquest of its people's souls has only just begun.
I can sense that you already have ideas and plans, but you mustn't rush things.
If I hadn't stepped in to mediate, your abrupt disbanding of the Warrior's Sons would have ignited public outrage across Westeros, making you a target for all. Your House may command dragons, but your bodies are still mortal. Do not be reckless with change. Remember this... cough, cough!"
Aegon quickly stepped forward to steady the old man, gently patting his back to ease his discomfort.
"I understand. Please, don't worry yourself too much. Take care of your health."
The High Septon slowly shook his head and brushed aside Aegon's support.
"Autumn's nearly over, and the temperature's dropped suddenly. It's just a bit of a chill—nothing serious."
Aegon's heart sank.
He remembered all too clearly—his grandfather had once said the same thing, that it was just a minor cold, not worth worrying about... and passed away the next day.
The last thing he needed now was for the High Septon to follow suit. He still planned to use the old man's connections to place loyal confidants within the Faith of the Seven.
The High Septon was a seasoned old fox. One look at Aegon's expression, and he immediately understood what the young king was thinking. Spreading his hands, he said, "Don't expect me to do anything more for you.
This time, to help clean up your mess, I even fabricated a divine revelation from the Seven.
You need to understand—the Seven are the only gods known never to perform miracles in the mortal world.
By deceiving all of Westeros like this, I've utterly ruined my credibility among the Septons. Even House Hightower has now distanced itself from me within the church.
I took a desperate gamble, defying the Conclave's vote and disbanding the Warrior's Sons.
Right now, every Septon in the Faith would love to flay me alive and drink my blood. They believe I've betrayed the Faith, sold out our interests, and become nothing more than a Targaryen puppet.
Once I return to the Starry Sept, I'll be sidelined, with the Conclave watching my every move."
Aegon gave a faint smile.
"No matter. You still have the Targaryen Kingdom behind you. Those Septons won't be able to stir up much trouble."
"You don't understand," the High Septon replied calmly. "For thousands of years, the power of the Faith and the power of the Crown have been like oil and water in Westeros. Right now, I can only rely on a few personal guards to keep myself safe. I just want to live out my remaining years in peace. So don't come dragging me into your business again, you brat."
Aegon was left speechless. The man was already over a hundred years old and just wanted to retire—he couldn't very well force the High Septon to keep working for the Targaryens.
Just then, the High Septon lifted his head and looked toward the Black Dread. Summoning all his strength, he shouted in High Valyrian, "Balerion! Time to eat!"
It was the informal call and whistle used by Targaryen Dragonkeepers to feed dragons.
Balerion, who had been resting, opened his crimson eyes at the sound and slowly raised his long neck, turning toward the High Hall.
Aegon stared at the High Septon in disbelief. Balerion actually responded to his call.
The High Septon could speak High Valyrian? What strange things had Grandfather taught him?
...
The chaos in the church had settled—for now.
Time passed quickly. Another month had gone by, and fine snowflakes began drifting from the sky. Just as the Citadel had predicted, autumn was over. The continent of Westeros was entering a long winter.
The duration and cycle of seasons in Westeros had always been unpredictable. Each season could last for years.
As planned, the pace of the conquest began to slow. The lords' armies gradually withdrew, leaving only the liege lords in Highgarden to attend the Targaryen founding ceremony.
Queen Sharra of the Vale and young Lord Ronnel arrived just in time, as did many other lords and envoys from across the Narrow Sea.
Aegon's father, Aerion, made a special voyage back to Westeros by ship. Former Storm King Argilac arrived with him.
Argilac was reunited with his daughter, and Lady Argella took the opportunity to finally reconcile with her father.
Aerion personally visited the High Septon. Due to the sudden death of Aegon's grandfather, the relationship with the High Septon hadn't been passed down—Aegon was only now learning of the connection.
The High Septon had made great sacrifices for House Targaryen's conquest. Naturally, the Targaryen dynasty would repay him. It was clear that the High Septon's son, Maester Gawen, would be granted a key role in the new kingdom.
Nearly a thousand lords, both great and small, participated in this grand founding event to support the Targaryen dynasty.
At the opening ceremony, Aegon formally announced that Westeros had entered the Targaryen Era. The realm would now adopt the official Targaryen calendar—the Conquest Calendar—beginning from the day Aegon was crowned in King's Landing, designated as Year 1 of the Conquest.
This founding celebration marked the turn of Year 2 in the Conquest Calendar.
In just two years, Aegon had achieved incredible feats. At only fifteen years old, the young Dragonlord had already earned the confidence of every lord and foreign envoy. All believed he would lead the Targaryen dynasty into an even greater age of prosperity.
Throughout the celebration, Aegon moved constantly between balls and feasts, hosted council meetings, and attended the grand tourney.
He had originally wanted to compete in the tourney himself, but the packed schedule, along with heavy opposition from his ministers and the Queen, forced him to give up the idea.
During the Great Westerosi Noble Council held alongside the festivities, the Targaryen dynasty's administrative structure was gradually formalized. The most important outcome was the establishment of the Small Council.
This group of high advisors would assist the king in governing the realm, offering counsel from their respective areas of expertise.
The Small Council answered directly to the king. Only the king had the authority to enact the council's resolutions as law. If the king were absent, the Hand of the King would act on his behalf. If the king were underage, a regent would exercise royal power.
Appointments and dismissals of council members rested solely with the king.
The Hand of the King—often called the Chief Advisor—was the monarch's chief advisor and executor of royal authority across the Seven Kingdoms.
Aegon named his close friend, Lord Torrhen of the North, as the first Hand of the King in the Targaryen dynasty.
...
[Upto 20 chapters ahead for now]
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