Huh?
The red-robed priest Thoros looked utterly confused. He had completely lost his memory of what had just happened and had no idea what was going on.
He saw members of the Brotherhood Without Banners beside him, kneeling and kowtowing nonstop, while the wolf cavalry stared at him with complicated expressions.
What exactly happened?What did His Majesty Robb mean by those words?The god I believe in is the Lord of Light.
Does a god even feel fear?
"Why is it so hot? What is this… ahhhhhh!!!"
Just as the red-robed priest Thoros was still in a daze, piercing screams snapped everyone back to reality.
When the god descended earlier, the torch in Thoros's hand had fallen to the ground and ignited the pile of hay where the bodies were placed. By now, it was burning fiercely.
And the screams were coming from those "corpses."
Those corpses were actually moving!
They could even scream?!
Under everyone's gaze, Count Beric Dondarrion was reborn within the flames. His current appearance, however, was rather pitiful—having just been revived, he was immediately choked by smoke and scorched by fire, shouting miserably.
Robb snapped his fingers. The horse beneath him stamped its hoof, and a stream of white, icy air spread forward from under the horse's feet, extinguishing the flames on Count Beric Dondarrion's body.
Beric stopped screaming. He looked around in confusion, then stared blankly at the equally bewildered red-robed priest Thoros.
Didn't I just die?
I revived Beric Dondarrion?The Lord of Light didn't abandon me?!
Seeing the two of them like this, Robb kindly spoke up, "It seems you still don't understand what happened. Have your men explain it to you."
After the members of the Brotherhood Without Banners explained everything that had just occurred, the two finally grasped the situation—yet felt even more confused, finding it utterly unbelievable.
The Lord of Light descended?A test between His Majesty Robb and the Lord of Light?
It all sounded like fairy tales from ancient times.
But seeing Beric Dondarrion return from the dead, and hearing so many people swear to it, they had no choice but to believe.
Once Robb saw that the two of them understood what had happened, he began to think about the current situation.
Some of what the Lord of Light said was cryptic, but some of it was easy to guess.
"Dragonflame rekindled" most likely referred to the Dragon Queen on another continent, hatching three giant dragons—their flames restoring the Lord of Light's power.
"As winter approaches" was even easier to understand—it referred to the Night King beyond the Wall.
From the Lord of Light's meaning, did he want to join forces with Robb against the Night King?
Having allies was a good thing, but choosing allies was a delicate matter. One wrong choice, and you might end up stabbed in the back by a traitor.
Since the Lord of Light was the first to approach him, Robb decided to observe for now.
As for the two people before him, Robb had already decided how to arrange them.
First, Robb looked at the man who had returned from death. "Count Beric Dondarrion, after the great upheaval in the capital, you were still willing to remain loyal to King Robert. I admire your loyalty. Are you willing to join me and fight against the Lannister army?"
"If you are unwilling, I will have people escort you back."
Count Beric Dondarrion hesitated for a moment. He was the lord of Blackhaven, his lands in Dorne—one of the few regions not yet drawn into the war.
If he said now that he wanted to return, he could immediately leave all this behind and live a peaceful life.
But that was not what he wanted. He could have left long ago, yet after seeing what the people of the Riverlands had suffered in the war, he could not allow himself to walk away.
Compassion. Loyalty. Mercy.
The spirit of knighthood had always shone in his heart.
Beric Dondarrion made up his mind and looked at Robb. "I want to stay, to fight for the innocent people of the Riverlands."
Robb greatly admired this warrior. "My uncle, Ser Edmure, is active nearby. Bring your men and travel with us—there will be a place for you under Ser Edmure."
Beric Dondarrion nodded in agreement. He did not care whom he served under; what mattered was whether he could save innocent civilians.
Robb then looked at the red-robed priest Thoros. This man had experienced a divine descent and served as the intermediary between the Lord of Light and himself. He had to be kept close.
"You should already know what happened just now. My force happens to be lacking a sorcerer—join the wolf cavalry."
"As you wish, Your Majesty." The red-robed priest Thoros did not refuse.
After encountering Robb, the Lord of Light had descended upon him, even granting him the power to revive the dead. The meaning behind these signs could not be clearer.
The Lord of Light intended for him to become His Majesty Robb's preacher, using the miracles bestowed by the god to serve Robb.
The matter of the divine descent was, for the time being, settled.
After handling everything, Robb continued leading his troops around the Riverlands, searching for Tywin's hounds.
With the members of the Brotherhood Without Banners joining them, the wolf cavalry's speed slowed somewhat, but their efficiency in clearing the ruins of villages along the way improved greatly.
Every time they passed through a village, Robb's anger grew little by little without him even noticing.
Robb did not know how many raiding forces Tywin had sent out, but he had a very clear understanding of just how cruel they were.
These people were nothing but beasts!
Even in this era, where there was a fundamental gap in status between nobles and commoners, no normal noble would ever believe that commoners deserved to be treated like this.
Any village visited by Tywin's troops had not a single survivor. From the corpses, it was clear that they had all endured inhuman torture before death.
The village's grain and livestock were either stolen or burned.
Commoners hung on poles, left to dry in the open air.
Children torn apart alive.
The condition of the women was even more unbearable to behold—no person with even a shred of kindness would want to know what had happened to them.
The more Robb saw, the angrier he became.
"Bring that Bolton Kreh out. Have horses drag them along. When we rest, hang them on spears. Let them see clearly the crimes they've committed."
At this moment, Bolton Kreh was no longer recognizable as a human.
His skin was gone, every blood vessel and muscle fiber exposed. Not to mention being touched—even sunlight alone caused him unbearable agony.
But what drove him most insane was that he should have died long ago!
Who could survive such brutal torture for so long?
Yet every time he was about to die, a golden light would inexplicably appear on his body, repairing his wounds and sustaining his life.
Was this the legendary healing spell?
But was healing magic supposed to be used like this?
Why would a spell that symbolized mercy torment him like a demon?
The knights under his command were the same as him—the only difference was that they had lost their tongues and could not utter a single word.
They were now living a fate worse than death, their hearts filled with regret.
However, Ser Bolton Kreh soon found a bit of comfort,because more and more people began to share the same fate as him.
...
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Here are a few fan-fic titles that I've recently uploaded on my Patreon:
"Game of Thrones: Dragon Prince"
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(End Chapter)