"I always thought that no one understood my true purpose in contending for the Iron Throne better than you, because it was you who made me understand my own mission."
Stannis looked at the woman beside him, his expression complicated. "Now the Long Night has arrived. The Wall is collapsing. The Night King is charging south at lightning speed. It will not be long before the North falls, and then the Riverlands.
Very likely, within the next month, the Others could reach King's Landing, even Oldtown.
Isn't the responsibility of the savior to stop the Others from destroying Westeros?"
Melisandre frowned deeply. "I am not stopping you from fulfilling the savior's mission, but now is truly not the time to challenge the Night King."
She was not lying. After the Long Night descended, her communion with the Lord of Light had become much simpler and more precise.
Every time she gazed into the flames and asked when the Long Night would end, she could feel R'hllor's will within the fire: Stannis was not ready yet.
R'hllor did not bother with any vague mysticism at all. He told Melisandre directly that now was not the time to rush things.
"The Night King's gaze just now terrified me to the point that my whole body trembled. I understand that I may be defeated beneath Winterfell, but I am not afraid!" Stannis clenched his teeth and said each word slowly. "Even Azor Ahai could not defeat the Night King in a single attempt. He fought again and again, failed again and again.
Though he failed countless times, he continued to bring hope to a despairing world.
If he could endure failure, so can I. I will persist to the end. Even if I fail ten thousand times, I will not lose my will to fight."
Not everyone gets the chance to fail again and again. The fear is that you fail once and lose your life.
If Daenerys were here, she would probably scoff like that.
Of course, Melisandre could not mock the savior she had chosen.
"There are no two identical leaves in this world. You are indeed the savior, but your experiences need not mirror Azor Ahai's. The fact that he could fail many times does not mean that you can," she said tactfully.
"I will die?" Stannis ground his teeth.
"You are not ready."
Stannis took a deep breath, and his mind and body suddenly relaxed.
He looked at Melisandre solemnly and said seriously, "As long as the world can be saved, there is no one who cannot be sacrificed. From the very beginning, I had this resolve.
I can be sacrificed. Shireen can be as well.
But I am Shireen's father. If I do not try my utmost even once and instead sacrifice her outright, can I still be called a man?
When Azor Ahai was forging the red sword and failed so many times, could it be that he never knew sacrificing his wife would work best?
Every one of his attempts was an effort, an effort to save his wife.
Only in the very end, after exhausting all possibilities, did he resolutely sacrifice his wife. And Nissa Nissa understood that her husband had done everything he could, which was why she could calmly offer her own life."
Melisandre did not know what Azor Ahai had been thinking back then. Perhaps Stannis was merely indulging in wishful thinking, or perhaps he had perfectly empathized with the savior of old and truly understood his circumstances and choices.
But she genuinely did not agree with Stannis's view.
"Fate was already set. It was destined that Azor Ahai would become the savior, destined that Nissa Nissa would be sacrificed. Perhaps you are right, and he tried to avoid Nissa's death, but his years of effort only caused the Long Night to be prolonged again and again, for an entire generation.
If he had been more decisive and resolute, if he had simply heeded the call of fate and used Nissa to forge the sword from the very beginning, it is very likely that the Long Night could have ended several years earlier."
"Fate." Stannis's eyes flickered as he began to grind his teeth. "Daenerys has already broken fate."
"Daenerys? What did she tell you?" Melisandre's heart leapt into her throat. She had no idea what shocking revelation that woman had spilled this time.
Stannis looked into Melisandre's eyes and said quietly, "She said that so-called sacrifices are all offered to the Lord of Light, R'hllor.
As long as R'hllor were generous enough, there would be no need for sacrifices at all. He could still help the child of prophecy forge the red sword and hatch dragons.
So-called fate is nothing more than a script He wrote in advance to achieve His own ends."
Melisandre said gravely, "Perhaps the great Lord of Light can do anything, but what about the cost?
All things follow laws. A king may possess an entire kingdom, but can he unconditionally grant land to every subject who asks for it?
If a king truly did that, the kingdom would inevitably collapse.
When the kingdom collapses, the fate of those subjects who gained land without effort would be even more miserable than before.
"The great R'hllor's divine power is boundless, but He also has an eternal enemy: the Cold God who seeks to drag the world into frost and darkness.
If He granted every believer's wish without regard for cost, mortal desires would be endless. No matter how powerful R'hllor is, how long could He endure?
Once R'hllor's divine power is exhausted, the Cold God would be able to act without restraint, doing whatever He pleased.
When facing the Cold God, what could those mortals who received R'hllor's gifts possibly do?
In the end, the world would fall into ruin because of our own shameful greed.
Farmers till the land, blacksmiths forge steel, kings rule, and the child of prophecy saves the world. These are laws, and countless laws together form fate."
Stannis frowned and thought about it. What the red priestess said seemed to make sense, but then again, did the child of prophecy truly have no privilege at all? Couldn't the Lord of Light make an exception just once?
After all, as the child of prophecy, he was helping Him oppose the Cold God!
Perhaps Daenerys had not lied. The gods viewed mortals as pigs and sheep, and R'hllor chose the child of prophecy only because the child possessed something He needed.
But what could he possibly have that was worth R'hllor's attention?
Shireen?
After a long silence, Stannis sighed and said, "No matter what, we must support Winterfell. This is the responsibility of the King of the Seven Kingdoms, and it is also the mission of the savior.
"Even setting aside responsibility and mission, looking purely from the standpoint of interests.
"Suppose we allow Winterfell to be breached by the Others. Then the next time, when the Night King leads an army of wights several times larger to the Bloody Gate,
"we will have no reinforcements at all. Daenerys will not help us, and even if a Stark is still alive, he will not help either.
"Once people's hearts scatter, the Seven Kingdoms will truly be finished."
Aunt Mel fell silent for a long time before saying, "We can send the winged dragon corps to support Winterfell, but you must not challenge the Night King."
"I am not afraid of death!" Stannis said, inexplicably angry. "You will go with me. If the Night King appears, I ask you and the great R'hllor to give me your full support once. Even if I still die in battle, I will have no complaints."
"But you are the savior. You cannot die. If you die, the world will truly be finished," the Red Woman said urgently.
She was truly anxious, because at this moment she sincerely believed that he was the savior.
Stannis said quietly, "Is there such a thing as a savior who shirks responsibility and shrinks from battle?
"You say I am the prophesied child of destiny, meant to oppose the Night King, yet at the same time you ask me to avoid the decisive battle with him. Is that not a contradiction?
If I truly am the savior, then I would only grow more resolute through failure. Countless defeats would temper my will and martial skill, until I finally grow to the point where I can defeat him."
Melisandre already understood that this time, too, she could not dissuade this stubborn king.
Indeed, Stannis did not obey the Red Woman in everything. Otherwise, he would have tried to hatch the magical dragon eggs years ago.
"I will accompany you. Thump, thump, thump!"
Just as Melisandre was about to agree, a burst of urgent knocking interrupted their conversation.
"Your Majesty, Ser Davos has sent word!" came the loud, cheerful shout of the attendant Davon Seaworth from outside the door.
Yes, Davon was the fifth son of the Onion Knight.
Davos Seaworth had seven children in total, all sons, all of whom grew up healthy and unharmed.
Because of this, his faith in the Seven Gods grew ever more devout.
During the War of the Five Kings, Davos led his eldest, second, third, and fourth sons to serve Stannis together, a force with quite the air of the Five Tiger Generals of the Han family of Cao Wei.
Well, Han De and his four sons.
Unfortunately, this knockoff Han De ran into an enhanced version of "Zhao Zilong of the Blackwater" and had four sons burned to death at once by Zilong, Tyrion Zhao.
"Davos is still alive?"
Stannis was overjoyed. He threw on an outer cloak and stepped forward to open the door.
As Stannis's attendant, Davon had seen Stannis and the Red Woman together countless times. Thus, after entering, his eyes did not wander. With great respect and efficiency, he handed the letter to His Majesty the King.
"Good, excellent!" Stannis read at a glance, praising it excitedly as he went.
But by the end, he fell silent again, his expression conflicted.
Melisandre drew her red gauze robe closer and walked over, asking curiously, "What is the situation?"
"Not only did Davos survive the chaos, he also completed the task I entrusted to him once again and successfully persuaded Bronze Yohn and that group of Vale lords," Stannis said, his expression complex.
"The Onion Knight truly is Your Majesty's lucky general," Melisandre said with a smile.
"A lucky general? If the Wall had not yet fallen, I would be overjoyed upon receiving this letter. But now…" Stannis frowned and shook his head.
Back then, when King Aegon's True Dragon Alliance laid siege to King's Landing, there were two armies advancing from north and south. The southern army marched north from Storm's End toward the Kingswood, consisting of ten thousand men of the Golden Company, more than four thousand Dornish cavalry, and eight thousand Stormlands bannermen. The northern army set out from the Bloody Gate, with the Vale lords leading twenty thousand elite soldiers south.
However, before the northern army could approach King's Landing, just after entering Rosby, seventy or eighty kilometers from the capital, news reached the camp that King Aegon had been defeated and captured.
At that time, the southern army had already been camped on the south bank of the Blackwater for many days, waiting for the northern army to join them.
The Iron Throne's forces were limited. It was impossible to split them and wipe out both the northern and southern armies.
Euron and Cersei chose to strike the southern army, because Dorne and the Golden Company were irreconcilable enemies, and with Aegon captured, the Vale lords would likely no longer remain loyal to him.
The Iron Throne's judgment was not entirely wrong. The Vale lords had little loyalty to Aegon to begin with. After Davos brought Sansa's "letter of surrender," they immediately began to withdraw, cursing Aegon, cursing King Stannis, cursing Cersei, declaring that they wanted to go home and were done playing this game.
But they soon discovered that even going home was impossible.
They lacked provisions.
As mentioned before, during the War of the Five Kings, the Crownlands were ravaged repeatedly. Bandits swept through like combs, armies like fine-toothed picks, with wolf cubs looting after lions.
Everyone took turns pillaging. When soldiers are starving, who cares about factions?
In the end, the Crownlands were left destitute, with not a grain to spare.
And Westerosi armies seemed never to have the habit of carrying provisions. From Winterfell to King's Landing is an immense distance. How could supplies be escorted all the way?
When the Vale army marched south, they discovered that the villages of the Crownlands and the Riverlands could no longer be looted.
Not only was there no food, even the common folk had all fled.
But the soldiers were starving.
And so the minor nobles were the ones who suffered.
Thus, the nobles of the Crownlands wrote one after another to Dragonstone, begging the Dragon Queen for mercy and asking her to restrain her dear nephew.
Thus, the Old Crab personally rushed to the Gates of the Moon to persuade King Aegon to rein it in a little.
Thus, King Aegon and the Imp rode winged dragons, delivering grain to the Vale lords every night.
Thus, the Vale lords changed their route of march, detouring and staying as close to the sea as possible, while Illyrio shipped grain to Dragonstone.
From Dragonstone, supplies were sent to support the Vale army along the coast of Blackwater Bay.
For example, Duskendale is less than a hundred kilometers from Tarth.
In this way, once Aegon was captured, the army's supply line was cut off.
(End of chapter)
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