Chapter 486: Chapter 487: Royal Power and Divine Authority
"Just these people?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"No movement from House Lannister?"
"Well, not entirely," Gavin Mander replied. "Some representatives of the Faith visited Ser Lancel Lannister, but once Lord Tyrion found out, he had Lancel arrested immediately."
Samwell let out a cold snort and asked again, "And the northern lords? Has Roose Bolton met with anyone?"
"No, Your Majesty. Lord Bolton has remained in the army camp outside the city all night and hasn't entered King's Landing."
"How obedient of him."
Gavin caught the unmistakable hint of disappointment on the King's face and couldn't help but laugh to himself.
He understood Samwell's intent: to use this opportunity to flush out the schemers and opportunists among the nobility. Yet despite the High Septon's cooperation in this grand performance, only a handful of minor players had taken the bait.
"This just shows that most nobles fully recognize your authority, Your Majesty," Gavin said with a smile. "In their hearts, your prestige surpasses even that of the Seven."
Samwell chuckled and shook his head.
"Be careful where you say such things. Carry out the plan."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Once Gavin left, Samwell stood alone, gazing into the dark night sky.
The stars were dim, and the moonlight cold; it seemed another snowfall was imminent.
The frigid wind blowing in from the Narrow Sea carried a salty, damp chill, but Samwell felt nothing of it.
Unseen fire sprites swirled around him, their warmth insulating him from the biting cold.
Ever since his mental attributes had skyrocketed, Samwell found his mastery over fire elements reaching unparalleled heights. Advanced fire magic, which Melisandre once painstakingly taught him, now felt almost trivial.
He could even perceive the magical imprint of fire left within his greatsword, Dawn, likely a mark of R'hllor, the Lord of Light.
Though he hadn't yet figured out how to remove the imprint, being able to sense it was progress enough.
Moreover, he discovered that his bronze armor also harbored a powerful energy.
This energy suppressed R'hllor's fiery mark but seemed to be a chaotic amalgamation of various sources, far more complex than expected.
Initially, Samwell assumed it was tied to the Great Other, the god of winter and darkness, the rumored master of the Long Night. But now, he wasn't so sure.
Instead, the energy on the bronze armor bore a resemblance to the "blood-eye" left behind by Euron Greyjoy—something that the Three-Eyed Raven coveted deeply.
And the Three-Eyed Raven was associated with the Old Gods...
Samwell's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of soft footsteps behind him.
He turned to see Daenerys Targaryen stepping out of the room, her hand resting on the doorframe.
"Did I wake you?" Samwell quickly approached and wrapped his arm around her waist, enveloping her in a cocoon of warmth through fire magic.
"No, I woke on my own." Daenerys leaned into her husband, basking in his heat as her eyes fluttered shut in comfort. "This little one keeps pressing on my bladder; I have to get up multiple times a night."
Samwell laughed heartily. "Just one more month to go."
"Mm. Were you speaking with Gavin earlier?"
"Yes."
"About the situation with the Faith?"
"Exactly. Some people are being unruly, and this is the perfect chance to deal with them."
Daenerys hesitated, then said cautiously, "I didn't expect you to kill the High Septon at Baelor's Sept. It seemed impulsive."
Samwell smiled faintly, saying nothing.
Initially, he hadn't planned to handle the High Sparrow with such drastic measures.
Though ambitious, the High Sparrow was the Seven's representative on earth and a leader of millions of followers across Westeros. Killing him rashly risked disastrous repercussions.
When the High Sparrow proposed re-establishing the Faith Militant, Samwell recognized the man as a potential threat. However, his plan had been to coerce the High Sparrow into stepping down voluntarily.
Ironically, the Faith Militant itself was to be the weapon used to tarnish the High Sparrow's reputation.
Yet events had taken an unexpected turn.
The High Sparrow had presumptuously transformed the blessing ceremony into a coronation—an act of placing the Faith above royal authority. This, Samwell could not tolerate.
And, fortuitously, the High Sparrow's audacious act had also allowed Samwell's mental attributes to soar, granting him near-divine powers.
These factors combined left Samwell with no choice but to deliver divine "justice" in the form of a fiery end for the High Sparrow.
It was both a punishment for breaking their agreement and an experiment to test the Seven's reaction.
As expected, the Seven remained silent.
And now, the aftermath seemed far less severe than anticipated.
Perhaps Samwell's godlike display at the Sept had intimidated the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms, deterring them from rash actions.
So much so that even with traps carefully set, few dared step into them.
"Don't worry," Samwell assured Daenerys. "Most nobles are still on our side."
"That's a relief." Daenerys sighed softly.
In the east, a faint pale light began to emerge on the horizon. Before long, dawn broke, its golden rays piercing through the darkness.
Wooooo—
The deep sound of horns suddenly echoed from outside the city walls.
Moments later, fully armed soldiers began pouring into King's Landing under the light of the rising sun, a black tide surging through the streets.
"It's begun," Samwell remarked, his tone laced with boredom.
After all, the minor players involved in this conspiracy hardly stirred his interest.
"Mm." Daenerys watched the approaching tide of soldiers with a mixture of awe and excitement. "Sam, will you take this opportunity to dismantle the Faith Militant?"
"Why would I?"
Daenerys blinked in surprise. "This is the perfect chance to eliminate such a threat, isn't it?"
Samwell shook his head.
"The Faith Militant isn't necessarily a threat to us. It could become an asset. Don't forget, this is a rare force capable of counterbalancing the power of the noble houses."
Daenerys's expression turned thoughtful. She recalled the chaos that had consumed her father's reign, when House Targaryen was cornered by a coalition of powerful houses.
In those moments, her family had been forced to rely on the likes of the Lannisters, the Reach, and Dorne—none of whom could truly be trusted.
Perhaps if the Targaryens had possessed a strong, independent force back then, much of the tragedy could have been avoided.
But the Faith Militant?
"Sam, while the Faith Militant might challenge the nobles, it won't necessarily serve us."
"That remains to be seen," Samwell said, smiling.
A sudden surge of immense power radiated from him, and in an instant, his hair and eyes turned a brilliant gold.
At that moment, Samwell resembled a deity descending upon the world.
Golden light filled Daenerys's vision.
Amid the radiance, she heard the roar of the white dragon, felt a gentle kiss on her forehead, and heard her husband's whispered words:
"Why can't royal power and divine authority become one?"
(End of Chapter)
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