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Robert is a badass who treats killing gods and slaying demons like just another Thursday. Did you know it was inspired by Thairon, the protagonist of my original story, Arrival : Ruptures, long before I began to write it? Comments, likes and reviews are appreciated. Here are the links for : AO3, Spacebattles, Royal Road and Webnovel.
—
Asgard
One of the elephant triarchs of Volantis had sent a letter to him. Melisandre of Asshai was in the city, taking refuge at the Temple of the Lord of Light.
The temple denied it, of course, and with how many followers R'hllor had, the triarchs did not want to cause a riot.
At least he knew where she was and could plan to kill her.
Somehow.
"Put a reward on her head. One million gold dragons."
"You were hesitant before."
"Yes, but now we know where she is. With thousands looking to claim that reward, Melissandre can't attempt to leave the temple."
"We will always know where she is."
"Indeed. Send some men there to keep an eye on the temple just in case."
"It's happening again," Tyrion said, pointing behind Robert with half-lidded eyes.
His face scrunched, and Robert took a deep breath. Pushing the heavy metal chair back, he raised it and brought it down the second the demon sprawled forth. The marble floor cracked with the force of the hit, and the only thing left from the demon was the clawed arms reaching for him.
They fell to the ground and dissipated into black, inky mist.
"Have someone fix the floor," he ordered, putting the chair back and continuing to oversee the documents.
"Of course."
"Now that your potential suitor has left, what will you do with the egg?"
"I'll just give it to Tali."
"I should have expected that."
"Anyway, I am off to attend the grand opening of the bridge."
—
Riverlands
Harroway
Slifer landed on the town square of Harroway at noon of the next day. Rhydan Roote was waiting for him, with his family in attendance.
A massive crowd was gathered near, merchants and nobles looking forward to the new bridge. Long has House Frey fleeced passengers with their tolls, and their fall from grace would be sweet.
The new lord of Twins, Stevron, was trying to make amends, but none would hear it. Even all the ties Walder had created by marrying several noble ladies meant nothing.
Rhoydan was ecstatic in his greetings, so much so that Robert had to tell him to stop. He wasn't going to stay for long anyway.
As the funder of the bridge and the guest of honor, he would also be giving a speech.
"Today is a great day for the Riverlands and the realm as a whole. With this bridge, we break the control of the Freys. No more merchants forced to spend their hard-earned coin on the tolls. No more political marriages to keep the Freys happy," he declared, raising an open hand to the crowd.
"As an individual who cares deeply for commerce, the tolls will be modest and fair for all. Without further wasting anyone's time, I pray that this bridge brings prosperity to all of us," he finished, taking the giant scissors to cut the cord.
The crowd began to clap, and the noise quickly turned to thunderous drums banging near his ear.
As fast as he came, Robert returned to Asgard, while the first set of traders passed through the bridge.
—
Asgard
He dodged to the left and grabbed the demon's head, slamming it to the wall, leaving cracks behind. It burst into the signature black mist, disappearing into nothingness.
"Okay, this is getting annoying," he grumbled, dusting his hands as the Councillors of Asgard took their places.
"If she can keep sending demons after you, it is only a matter of time before one of them gets lucky," Tyrion commented, putting the ruffled papers back in order.
Robert raised his fallen chair, sitting down, "As far as I know, this whole shadow binding business is taxing on the body. It is likely the other priests are helping her."
Melisandre was obviously tired from summoning a single shadow in the show, yet to summon two of them back-to-back this quickly? She was definitely receiving help.
"Then what about destroying the temple altogether?" Sandor grunted. This whole demon assassination matter was getting
Tyrion hummed, "That temple is old; there are bound to be secret paths for escape," he said. Thousands of years old, the priests would be fools to not create exits should they ever come under attack.
"I either need something guaranteed to protect me or a way to destroy the source of their magic," he said. Half the sorcerers he met were ponies, and the other half required some sort of sacrifice.
No, thank you.
"What about the Mother Tree? Can she offer anything?" he asked Leaf. He didn't actually know her full capabilities, but reshaping the Iron Islands as she has been, perhaps the mother tree could do something.
Leaf shook her head. "Unlikely, but we shall do our best."
There went that option.
"What about the Fae?" Though, seeing as their magic was more rooted on earth, he didn't hold his hopes high.
"If she can get through the safety your beasts provide, there really isn't anything I can think of," she replied, gazing at the cracks on the wall.
"The priests claim the source of their power is R'hllor, correct?" Tyrion asked.
"If we believe their words," Davos said. Far be it from him to question the beliefs of the others, but the priests of R'hllor were a queer ilk and untrustworthy.
"The Lord of Light exists," Leaf revealed. "Yet, he cannot freely touch the world. He needs a medium to empower his followers."
The room fell silent at her words.
In hindsight, he should have asked the ancient forest elf about that.
"Then all you need to do is to sever that connection," the dwarf reasoned.
"Which most likely resides in the temple," Robert grumbled. A quick plan was formulated in his mind. He could ride Obelisk to Volantis and have him blow the temple up.
Just like he and Ra had done in their fight against the kraken.
After that, he could search for anything that was out of the ordinary.
"Assuming you even find what this connection is, there is no way to know if you can destroy it." Davos would advise caution against starting a war against an entire faith, but in this case, the enemy had started it.
"But I know a place that might point me in the correct path," Robert said, eyes glancing at the far right of the table.
Tyrion followed his lord's gaze and huffed, "You can't be serious."
"I am," he winked. What better place to find a way to put an end to R'hllor than the city that contained knowledge older than Valyria?
"What does he mean?" Davos asked, turning sharply to the dwarf.
"He thinks a solution could be found in Asshai," he sighed, rubbing his forehead.
"Fuck," Sandor grunted. Guess they were heading to the other end of the world.
"Don't be a crybaby now," he said. "Would you rather I fight off demon assassins every day?"
"The last one to voyage to Asshai was the Sea Snake, Corlys Velaryon, who lost half his crew and love," Tyrion reminded. If even a seasoned sailor like Corlys had suffered such losses, Asshai was not a place to be underestimated.
"Yes, well, he never slew a demon or a kraken," he reminded everyone.
"I can't argue with that," Tyrion said. He would just have to trust Robert to come out of this in one piece.
"We should have Maester Olivar check the Valyrian books. They might have knowledge regarding R'hllor."
"You do that, and find him some help. It will take too long otherwise."
"As you wish."
Traveling to Asshai, even on dragonback, was a harsh task. The distance from Asgard to the city that is almost at the end of known Essos was more than twice the size of Westeros. There were no friendly locations to land for resupplying and resting. The further east he went, the more dangerous things would become.
Yet, that bitch did not seem interested in stopping.
If he went and destroyed the temple, and the priests somehow survived, he would have no idea where to find them.
Killing every single priest of R'hllor to quell any further attempts, even if they did not know shadowbinding, was almost impossible to do.
Past a certain point in the continent, he'd have no reliable way of finding where they could be hiding.
His work was manageable, but to ensure the city ran smoothly while he was gone, Robert turned his sole attention to work, handling as much as he could before leaving.
Tyrion was left in charge, and he opted to have Slifer stay back for the security of Asgard before taking Sandor with him to Volantis.
First, he would try diplomacy.
—
Volantis
The journey had taken a week, but the outer walls of the ancient city were in sight. He could see the people beneath disperse in panic but had no time to waste on them. Urging Obelisk forward, the dragon blitzed forward, much faster than before.
Robert had to strengthen his grip and lie down flat due to the wind. He couldn't even see the city properly as everything became a blur.
The Temple of the Lord of Light was built beneath the inner, dragonstone walls. It was truly enormous, putting the Baelor's Sept to shame in size. The walls were painted with hues of fire—red, gold, orange, and yellow—with a number of pillars and other structures that he didn't even try to count.
Outside its walls, a permanent crowd was gathered, armed to the teeth.
The word on the bounty had reached the city before him.
He guided Obelisk inside the walls, causing the mass to scatter, while the preacher fell silent, looking at him with slightly narrowed eyes.
"I trust you know who I am," he asked the preacher. He guessed the priest was Benerro, though with their tendency to live far longer than humanly possible, it could be someone else as well.
Not that it mattered.
"The false Azor Ahai," the man claimed, causing the crowd to curse him. Obelisk roared, and he could see the air around the dragon's head waver.
When he fell silent, the crowd was running out of the temple.
Cowards.
"As if I ever claimed to be a prophesied savior," he shook his head.
"What do you want?" the priest asked.
"How about you surrender, Melisandre? That bitch has been trying to kill me for a while, and there is no way she sent all those demons after me without you bastards helping," Robert accused. He didn't know what sorcery was happening inside, but his dragons were disturbed.
"There is nothing for you here," the high priest scoffed.
"Well, no one can say I didn't try to solve this with words," he said, rubbing his dragon's scales. He considered giving the order to kill everyone here but held his hand for now.
They would die, eventually.
"I'll see you later."
—
As he had expected, the journey to Asshai wasn't easy or simple. He rested in the ruins of Valyria for the night, getting debriefed by his men that were guarding the place. While most of the treasures were extracted, they still found trinkets and small treasures, all gathered in a pile to be shipped off.
No one had the courage to approach the ruins, and without any more demon spawn, it was a peaceful post.
The morning of the next day, the dragons took off and did not stop until sunset. The Ghiscari were slavers, not the sort of people he wanted to interact with, and after spending the night in a camp far from any settlement, the dragons reached the outskirts of Port Yhos in a day.
He knew nothing about Port Yhos, since it wasn't relevant at all in the books. Before setting out on this journey, however, he had learned all he could.
Which wasn't much.
A port involved in slave trade, it acted as a slave market between Ghis, Moraq, Qarth, and the Slaver's Bay.
Again, he and Sandor camped far from the city.
Qarth, though, was one worth visiting.
The gate between east and west and north and south, it was a city built on commerce. Its port was known to be one of the greatest in the whole world, and seeing it from the skies allowed the size of it to settle in.
He landed way outside the walls to not send the denizens into a frenzy and walked the rest of the way with Sandor.
"Let's find cattle for the dragons first, then I want to see the city," he ordered. It was already noon; spending a couple of hours in the city would have to be enough.
Asshai did not wait for anyone.
They had to get through three walls defending Qarth, each with its own checkpoint. Almost everyone was gazing at them and muttering. He ignored it, of course.
Their words meant nothing to him.
Literally and figuratively.
Inside the walls, it was a lively place and the dream of every male teen with raging hormones. The Qartheen females had a tradition of leaving one breast exposed; for some, that wasn't clear in the books.
Could be just George feeling horny.
Its culture was a mix of ancient kingdoms ranging from the Middle East to India.
"How the fuck are we supposed to speak with someone here?" Sandor asked. The Qartheen did not speak Valyrian, which was the only language Robert knew other than Westerosi common.
"While the Qartheen are a bit arrogant when they call this city the center of the world, they aren't wrong about it when it comes to trade. Everyone comes here, and knowing more tongues means more wealth," he said. In cities of trade such as Qarth, where several cultures mixed in, knowing more than one language was bound to be handy.
"See?" He pointed at an inn, which had a sign in Westerosi common.
"That's a butcher shop," Sandor said, looking around as his eyes landed on the sign.
He followed Robert inside to speak with the butcher, who was considerably shorter in height but definitely longer in girth.
"Do you know Westerosi by any chance?" Robert said after the man said something in Qartheen.
The butcher blinked, perhaps unused to the sight of a Westerosi customer. "Ah, of course. What will it be today?"
"Four entire camels for my dragons. I need them delivered outside the city," he said bluntly.
"Dragons?!" The man stumbled where he was standing, eyebrows shooting up.
Good thing he put down the cleaver.
"Yes," he replied, "just have them ready; we'll come with you so there is no trouble."
Paying ten gold dragons to the butcher, they left for the inn to eat some hot food. Dried rations tended to get boring after a while.
He ordered an extra-large serving of a lamb dish everyone seemed to be favoring, along with a whole chicken, a loaf of bread, and a mug of ale. Sandor was content with just the lamb dish.
The dish was a stew with a rich, golden color and lamb meat with bones. The rest of the dishes weren't anything new, but the spices were different, and he did enjoy it greatly.
Eating beef jerky for a couple of days helped too.
"How long before someone important comes looking for you?" Sandor asked. He had already finished his stew and was nursing a smaller mug of ale.
"Don't know, don't care," he said, finishing the ale. He took a couple of seconds to enjoy the aftertaste and got up to pay for the food.
—
In the next chapter:
He woke up, not to Sandor's prodding, or the pleasant warmth of the dragons, or the salty smell of the sea, but to the hollering of sailors. A ship had anchored, close enough to be heard, but far enough the dragons would not think they were a danger.
Opening the flap of his tent, he looked at the disturbance. Rubbing his eyes with one hand, the other searched for the telescope in his bag.
The ship was familiar from somewhere, but his sleepy mind only remembered when he saw the woman standing on the deck. The red beauty from Moraq.
Putting down the telescope, Robert went back into his tent.
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