Game of Thrones: Bastard? I’m the Damn Heir!

Chapter 346

Several hundred thousand free folk could not all be withdrawn to the south of the Wall in a single day.

Thus, after reaching an accord with Mance Rayder regarding the integration of the free folk beyond the Wall into the Seven Kingdoms, Kal returned once more to Castle Black.

In the end, led by Robb Stark, a small number of northern nobles such as Rickard Stark remained here, together with fifty men in total, including members of the Night's Watch represented by Qhorin Halfhand.

As the bridge between the free folk and the Seven Kingdoms, they still had much work to do.

Because he had to preside over the affairs of Castle Black, Benjen could only withdraw back with Kal. As for the work that would need to be done with the several hundred thousand free folk marching south afterward, one did not know how much there would be—merely thinking of it was enough to cause a headache.

...

Castle Black, the great hall.

The rejuvenated Maester Aemon, accompanied by his apprentice, gathered here with Benjen, the nobles of the Vale, and the northern lords.

All eyes were fixed upon the king seated at the forefront.

"Regarding this expedition beyond the Wall, I believe you all understand it clearly…"

"After this, I shall depart. The matters at Storm's End must be handled, and the Seven Kingdoms must be restored to peace, so as to face the coming calamity."

"If nothing unexpected occurs, we shall not have much time."

As Kal's voice fell, the faces of those in the hall grew heavy.

Though the king's expedition beyond the Wall had not lasted long, the meaning contained within it could not be explained in a mere few words.

Setting aside the unprecedented feat of conquering lands beyond the Wall and formally incorporating the free folk into the Seven Kingdoms—

The attack they had suffered at the Fist of the First Men, the significance of the White Walkers encountered there, and the prophecy concerning the Long Night had already planted a deep shadow in the hearts of those present.

Events from eight thousand years ago—stories once thought to be nothing more than tales—now unfolding in reality, left one with an indescribable sense of unreality.

Kal continued: "Therefore, not only must we hold the Wall fast, I propose that, as with the newly established lands along the Wall at present, taking advantage of our current strength, we ought to extend our reach several tens of leagues farther north, to leave sufficient military buffer."

"The enemy we face next is not human. They are unprecedentedly powerful. No preparation we make can be deemed excessive."

"To rely solely upon defense has never been a lasting strategy."

However, as Kal spoke, Maester Aemon was the first to raise an objection.

"Your Grace, the two passages left at the Wall are insufficient for us to accomplish so much. To expand northward is not realistic."

"Should we encounter mishap and be unable to withdraw or receive reinforcement in time, those forces we extend outward will become nothing more than meat laid upon the board, to be carved at will."

At Maester Aemon's words, the nobles who had accompanied Kal beyond the Wall and witnessed that harsh land with their own eyes could not help but nod.

Kal smiled.

"You are right, Maester Aemon. To fight in the open against those who can command corpses and the weather would undoubtedly be an act of extreme folly."

"But what I truly mean is that we must establish outposts beyond the Wall. We must place our eyes farther afield."

"Only in this way can we respond more swiftly and react in time."

"Your Grace speaks truly!" Benjen nodded.

What the king said coincided exactly with his own thoughts.

Seeing that no one else raised objections, Kal looked around the hall with satisfaction.

"Then let it be so for the time being. Our greater task now must still be focused upon the withdrawal of the free folk."

"For once we act, unless our enemy is a fool, they will certainly attempt to prevent it. The decisive battle and the disaster may come even sooner than any of us expects."

"Therefore, if possible, we must open another passage besides those two wormholes—one more convenient and more efficient."

"We must be able both to draw our clenched fist back and to strike outward with it. Only by balancing offense and defense can we prevail."

"And once the matters at Storm's End are resolved, I shall find a way to gather resources and supply them here. Otherwise, our enemy need only exhaust us, and we will trap ourselves here."

"My lords, the road ahead is long and difficult. If mankind is to endure, the duty before us cannot be shirked."

"Dismissed."

Thus a meeting concerning the future survival of mankind, and the coming disaster and war, came to an end.

For these matters were but the calm before the storm—the preparations before war.

In the great hall of Castle Black, several hundred people gradually dispersed, leaving only Maester Aemon, Lord Commander Benjen Stark, the Royal Guard Dacey Mormont, and Theon still beside Kal.

"Maester Aemon, in the name of the king I now relieve you of your duties in the Night's Watch. Afterward, you shall go to King's Landing. Many places in the Seven Kingdoms now require your presence."

The young Aemon Targaryen had not expected the king to say this the moment he spoke, and he was somewhat surprised.

"But Your Grace, the Wall also requires me."

Kal shook his head, rejecting the veiled refusal.

"No. The Wall will gradually return to its proper course on its own. What I speak of is not limited merely to these daily affairs."

"Previously I spent some time at the Citadel. A scholar named Marwyn once told me that, with your learning, you should long ago have become an archmaester, rather than remaining here at Castle Black."

"House Targaryen has long since become a thing of the past. There is nothing there anymore to weary or trouble you."

"But there are certain matters that require your help—matters even more important than resisting the coming of the Long Night."

"The future of the Seven Kingdoms—whether, hundreds or even thousands of years from now, it will remain as it is today—will depend upon the choice you make now."

"Your Grace… what would you have me do?"

Once, Aemon had been old and nearly blind, yet he possessed another pair of eyes—eyes that could see through the truths of the world far better than sight itself.

As soon as Kal spoke these words and even mentioned the Citadel, Aemon already had a vague idea forming in his mind.

But how could Kal possibly reveal such a matter—something meant for the future—at this moment?

"You will understand once you reach King's Landing. Afterward, the Wall will receive support from the Citadel in the form of more maesters. You need not worry."

Seeing that Kal not only refused to say more but even treated the matter as a secret, Aemon's heart could not help but sink.

After a brief moment of thought, Aemon ultimately nodded.

"If I am still needed, I will not shirk my duty, Your Grace."

Kal smiled. With Aemon's support, certain matters he intended to carry out would become far easier.

During their conversation, Benjen and the others did not interrupt.

Only after Maester Aemon departed did Benjen step forward.

"Your Grace, regarding what you said earlier to Mance Rayder about abolishing the Night's Watch in the future—do you think it might be worth reconsidering?"

Seeing that Benjen had indeed remained to raise this matter, Kal cast a sideways glance at him.

"What is it, Lord Commander Benjen? Are you reluctant to part with the Night's Watch—or reluctant to part with your title as Lord Commander?"

"Once the Night's Watch has fulfilled its mission, you could marry a noble lady, have a child of your own, build a small castle, and the North will become livelier still with the arrival of the free folk."

"That would be an entirely new life, Lord Commander Benjen."

Kal spoke with a smile, teasing Benjen. He knew well that Benjen was not a man who clung to power.

And besides, what use was it to cling to the authority of the Night's Watch?

Thus, more than anything, Kal was painting him a hopeful picture.

Yet while the king could joke lightly, Benjen could not laugh.

"No, Your Grace. I hold no attachment to my position. I only worry…"

"In the future, the Wall itself will no longer exist. With me here, this world will become something entirely new."

"Your oath binds you to keep watch until death, Lord Commander Benjen. Yet aside from death itself, I would choose another way to bring your oath to its end. Would that not be something beautiful as well?"

"Dawn has come."

As he spoke, Kal patted the still-stunned Benjen on the shoulder and walked out of the hall.

...

On the training grounds, a large golden-furred dog was curled up timidly upon Robert's back. Behind it, sitting sideways, was the dark-elf witch from the Tower of Dread.

Robert himself had lost all his usual wild vigor. As though encountering a natural predator, he lay flat upon the ground, utterly still, allowing the woman on his back to sit there.

Seeing this scene, Kal could not help but laugh in exasperation.

If Artessa had been here, she might not have feared Erevi. But Robert, this somewhat mismatched wyvern, was indeed no match for Erevi.

As a master of fire, someone who could wield flames with ease, Robert—who possessed nothing more than a single breath of dragonfire—was not even worthy to carry her shoes.

"After this, you and Theon will follow the southbound party to King's Landing. While you are at it, you will be responsible for ensuring Maester Aemon's safety—even after reaching King's Landing."

Seeing Erevi and the others waiting for him, Kal gave an order to Dacey and Theon.

Receiving the command, the two newly appointed white knights accepted solemnly.

But just as he was about to leave, a short and malnourished Ygritte, with a head of fluffy red hair, suddenly jumped out and grabbed hold of him.

"Can you take me south? You promised me."

Having failed to sleep with the man before her, Ygritte's unwillingness was practically written across her face.

Ever since Mance had submitted to the man before her, she had voluntarily come to the Wall as part of the exchange between the two sides.

Faced with Ygritte's blunt declaration of affection, Kal waved his hand and loosened the grip with which she held him.

"Ygritte, you have a destined partner, but that man is not me."

"Originally, for certain reasons, the two of you would have only shared a brief intersection in life. It would have been a regrettable tragedy."

"But now that will not happen. The moment I arrived in this world, fate had already changed. Seize it well—it is as precious as your life."

"Is that a prophecy?" Ygritte's eyes widened.

"Do you know what my subjects in the Seven Kingdoms call me, besides 'Your Grace'?"

Ygritte shook her head.

"They call me King—the Eighth God, King!"

"So the words I speak are not merely prophecy."

"Born of the fire's kiss—this time your red hair will bring you true fortune."

…

Storm's End.

"The dragon in the stone—what exactly is it?"

"Melisandre, are you deceiving me?"

"Or was this nothing but a lie from the very beginning?"

"Why did it not succeed?!"

Within a dimly lit courtyard, Stannis stared at the brazier before him and questioned the red priestess Melisandre behind him.

Melisandre had asked him for Edric Storm—the bastard son of Robert Baratheon and Delena Florent—saying that the king's blood within the boy could awaken the sleeping dragon.

At first he had refused.

But as time passed, the army surrounding Storm's End continued to grow larger.

He had truly placed himself in opposition to the Seven Kingdoms, and this time there would be no moment like during the War of the Usurper, when Eddard Stark had come to rescue him.

In the end, Stannis tacitly accepted the matter.

He did not stop Melisandre from taking Edric Storm away. Yet after the ritual had been completed, and now several days had passed without him seeing any so-called dragon, Stannis could no longer restrain himself.

Faced with the questioning, Melisandre's expression did not change in the slightest.

Her crimson eyes continued to stare into the flames before her. Her copper-red hair stirred faintly, and the ruby set in the golden necklace around her neck emitted a faint red glow.

"Answer me!"

Seeing that Melisandre remained silent, Stannis grew furious. He suddenly turned around, eyes wide as he glared at the witch.

The priestess, who had been watching the flames and had made no other movement for two or three days, finally turned her face slightly as the king's anger erupted.

Those crimson eyes reflected the fire.

"King Stannis Baratheon, Storm's End is the place where you can truly win this war, where you may become the true king and the savior. That is why we sought to obtain it."

"Here you once won honor for yourself—won everything. Thus even now it remains the same."

"But Storm's End is also a place where magic is cut off. Here, even the gods cannot extend Their power within."

"And for that reason, it is unlikely that you will witness any miracle here."

"And I must remind you as well—there is no sleeping dragon within the stone at Storm's End…"

"Because the dragon lies upon Dragonstone!"

"I have already seen it. The dragon has awakened from its slumber. Yet before the final moment arrives, it is best that it does not appear."

"Wait a little longer… just a little longer…"

"I can see it—the ancient alien god is gathering its strength…"

"And the enemy we await is also drawing near."

There was a strange haziness in Melisandre's voice that made one believe her almost involuntarily.

And as she spoke, Stannis Baratheon's gaze was drawn, almost unconsciously, toward the brazier before her.

It was as though he too saw something, for he stepped forward two paces without realizing it.

Among the burning crimson coals, a lump of charred flesh was slowly turning to ash.

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