From that moment onward, everyone finally understood why this man was known as Bloodwind.
No...
The title no longer seemed sufficient.
Whenever a weapon appeared in his hand—whether a lance, greatsword, or warhammer—it radiated a brilliant light comparable to the sun itself.
Anyone touched by that radiance found their courage stripped away.
At the same time, lightning danced around his body, striking with uncanny precision. Every enemy who dared stand before him seemed destined to suffer divine judgment.
It was as if a god had descended into the mortal world.
The battle ended almost as soon as it began.
One man had charged into an army of thousands.
Under the illumination of holy light and roaring thunder, that vast army collapsed like fragile bubbles, shattering at the slightest touch.
The battle had begun swiftly.
It ended even faster.
By the time Karl broke through the battlefield and arrived before Lady Aven Oakheart, Lady of Old Oak, he was holding Garlan Tyrell in one hand.
At that point, Lady Aven's choice was obvious.
She dismounted.
She knelt.
And she lowered her forehead to the ground.
Before her stood a man atop a chestnut warhorse, a glowing lance in one hand and lightning crackling around his body.
"House Oakheart submits to your command, Your Majesty, King Karl the First of House Baratheon."
"Great Bloodwind Knight."
"Warrior of unmatched courage and strength."
"Father of Dragons."
"Master of Light and Thunder."
"Your Exalted Majesty."
Her forehead remained pressed against the earth.
From the corner of her eye, she could only see trampled mud, flattened grass, and the edge of a black cloak embroidered with rivers of red and gold jewels.
Yet her voice had never sounded so sincere.
So devout.
Not even during her prayers in the sept.
As she knelt before Karl, she couldn't help recalling passages from the Seven-Pointed Star.
The holy text spoke of a time when the Seven Gods walked among men.
It was said that the Seven had once taken human form and traveled through the hills of the Andals.
There, they crowned Hugor of the Hill and promised his descendants a glorious kingdom in a promised land.
The scriptures described that land as:
"The golden realm beyond the mountains."
Remembering those stories, Lady Aven felt as though she were witnessing another such miracle.
The teachings of the Faith echoed in her mind.
"Pride is the beginning of ruin."
"The life of man is but a candle in the wind."
"Death is never far away, and the Seven Hells await those who refuse to repent."
Standing before Karl, she felt exactly like that candle.
Fragile.
Insignificant.
Powerless.
Yet another passage surfaced in her thoughts.
"All sins may be forgiven, but first they must be atoned for."
Lady Aven believed her sins could still be forgiven.
All she could do now was submit and await judgment.
---
Karl wasn't surprised by Lady Aven's surrender.
What surprised him was the absurdly long list of titles she had just recited.
He glanced down at the glowing spear in his hand.
Then at the lightning surrounding his body.
Only then did he realize that the special effects he had used to end the battle quickly had apparently caused a major misunderstanding.
Looking around, he saw countless soldiers kneeling alongside Lady Aven.
After several seconds of silence, Karl made a decision.
He wouldn't explain anything.
Instead, he casually drove the glowing lance into the ground beside him and dismissed the lightning effects surrounding his body.
Then he spoke calmly.
"I accept your surrender, Lady Aven Oakheart."
This had been the largest battle Karl had ever fought.
Yet it had also been the cleanest.
And the shortest.
During his earlier campaigns against the Lannisters north of the Red Fork, he had personally cut down countless enemies.
When conquering Shagga and the mountain clans, he had fought through them one by one.
As for King's Landing...
That had been pure chaos.
But this battle involving nearly ten thousand men had ended after a single charge.
The blood on his weapon belonged only to those few fools who had still dared resist.
Even so, Karl offered no words of comfort or reassurance.
He remained seated upon Fox, his horse, towering over the kneeling nobles below.
At his words, Lady Aven's shoulders trembled.
She instinctively wanted to look up.
Then immediately lowered her head again.
She feared offending the god-like figure before her.
Unable to suppress her anxiety, her gaze drifted toward Garlan Tyrell.
The young knight had been casually tossed aside by Karl like discarded baggage.
Remembering Garlan's confident declarations before the battle, Lady Aven's lips twitched.
"Pride is the beginning of ruin."
No saying had ever felt more accurate.
They had believed Karl was merely another ambitious warlord.
A man blinded by dreams and arrogance.
No one had informed them that he wielded weapons glowing like miniature suns.
No one had mentioned the lightning.
No one had spoken of miracles.
Having witnessed everything with her own eyes, Lady Aven felt she could only explain it one way.
Karl Baratheon was the earthly incarnation of the Seven.
The Seven Gods walking among mankind.
That belief made accepting defeat much easier.
---
Meanwhile, Garlan Tyrell lay on his back, staring blankly at the sky.
His eyes were empty.
His mind was numb.
He still couldn't process what had happened.
Moments earlier, he had been safely directing the battle from the center.
Then Karl had appeared.
A figure surrounded by thunder and light.
No army could stop him.
No formation could slow him.
Karl had simply ridden straight through thousands of soldiers and arrived before him.
Before Garlan could even react, a giant hand had grabbed his cloak.
The next thing he knew, he was being carried across the battlefield like a sack of grain.
His renowned swordsmanship had been utterly meaningless.
Years of training.
Years of pride.
Completely useless.
"Ser Garlan Tyrell?"
Karl's voice pulled him from his thoughts.
Only then did Karl seem to remember he existed.
Garlan instinctively looked up.
The moment their eyes met, he shuddered.
The sun blazed behind Karl.
His dragon-headed helmet appeared as a dark silhouette.
A bottomless abyss.
For a brief moment, Garlan felt as though he were looking upon the Stranger himself.
"K-King Karl..."
His voice trembled.
Lady Aven remembered another passage from the Seven-Pointed Star.
"Death is never far away."
She fully expected Karl to execute him.
Instead, Karl surprised everyone.
"Tell me your choice."
That was all he said.
Then he turned away and surveyed the battlefield.
Thousands of Reach soldiers had already surrendered.
Knights threw down their weapons.
Men dismounted and knelt.
No one attempted to flee.
The Westerlands soldiers had captured an army several times their size without another fight.
As Karl's gaze swept across the battlefield, the surrendered soldiers instinctively lowered their heads.
No one dared meet his eyes.
No one dared look directly at a god.
Even if Karl wasn't truly divine.
At this moment...
It didn't matter.
He might as well have been.
---
As Garlan struggled to answer, two riders approached.
Their armor gleamed pure white.
Ser Arys Oakheart.
Ser Balon Swann.
Both Kingsguard knights dismounted and knelt before Karl.
"Your Majesty."
Seeing their white cloaks reminded Karl of Margaery Tyrell, whom he had sent to Casterly Rock.
This man was her brother.
After a brief pause, Karl spoke.
"You have not yet committed any unforgivable crimes."
"I am willing to give you a chance."
"There are still vacant places within my Kingsguard."
"I grant you the opportunity to earn redemption."
The two Kingsguard exchanged glances.
Their expressions were complicated.
Garlan was stunned.
He had fully expected death.
Instead, he was being offered mercy.
Relief flooded through him.
"My king..."
He swallowed hard.
"This is my honor."
Although he already had a wife, none of that mattered anymore.
He quickly rolled over and knelt beside Lady Aven.
His previous despair vanished completely.
Karl nodded.
"Good."
"Gather your forces and House Oakheart's army."
"Disband the existing command structure."
"Merge them into my army."
"I will wait for you at Old Oak."
Then he looked toward Balon Swann.
"Remain here."
"Take Sandor Clegane and Bronn with you."
"Ensure everything is handled properly."
"When the reorganization is complete, these armies will be placed under your command."
With that, Karl nudged Fox forward.
Retrieving his lance, he rode toward Old Oak alone.
The castle now belonged to him.
---
The war was over.
The cleanup could be left to others.
In truth, Karl's departure was beneficial.
People needed time.
Time to think.
Time to rationalize.
Time to convince themselves.
If things progressed slowly, it would take a day.
If they progressed quickly, then before dinner those soldiers would already consider themselves Karl's loyal followers.
Fanatical followers.
With Old Oak secured, Karl needed only gather enough troops to reach ten thousand men.
Then he could march on Highgarden.
---
By evening, Karl sat within the great hall of Old Oak.
Yet the object before him was not a feast.
Instead, it was a white raven perched within a golden cage.
Beside it stood the castle's maester.
Karl raised an eyebrow.
"A white raven?"
"So autumn has arrived?"
The maester shook his head.
"Your Majesty."
"To be precise..."
"Winter has arrived."
"The long summer has ended."
"It lasted ten years, one month, and thirteen days."
Karl fell silent.
Although he had already expected this after the appearance of the red comet, seeing the white raven with his own eyes still sent a chill through him.
Winter.
The true beginning.
Then another thought suddenly surfaced.
Karl frowned.
"By the way..."
"Why haven't there been any messages from Castle Black?"
A faint sense of unease rose in his heart.
Something felt wrong.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)