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Hearing of a miracle he had never known, Moqorro's eyes widened. His gaze moved up and down over Beric's calm face.
"Enough. Return to the point. Brother Moqorro, you still have not said who this Cold God's servant is."
Feeling uncomfortable beneath Moqorro's astonished stare, Beric frowned and spoke.
"Ah, yes. He is the King in the North, Robb Stark.
"A giant wolf that can also wield a terrible ice power follows him closely. Around him are believers in the Drowned God and many soldiers bewitched by him.
"Without anyone realizing it, the Cold God's power has already spread this far."
Remembering the purpose of his visit, Moqorro suppressed his fierce curiosity and answered.
"Robb Stark?"
Hearing the name, Beric and Thoros immediately looked at each other. Thoros then said, "Brother Moqorro, are you certain?
"From what we know, the King in the North treats commoners well in the North, Riverlands, and Westerlands. He has a very good reputation."
"Heh. I know those reports too. But demons have always been skilled at disguise. Otherwise, how could they deceive humans into dying for them?
"There are also reports that he is cruel and fond of killing. In every great battle, he kills at least several hundred enemies, yet receives no wounds himself.
"Moreover, whether in the North or the Westerlands, when prisoners are executed, he does it personally."
Moqorro chuckled, then spoke the information he knew with certainty.
"I still remember that 'the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword' is the ancient custom House Stark follows. So that does not seem especially strange."
Beric had forgotten many important people and events, yet he still remembered some things that seemed less important. After Moqorro finished, he answered.
"If it were only occasional executions, it would indeed not be a great problem. But I gathered the reports and made an estimate. Since the war began, this demon servant has taken at least several thousand lives.
"In my eyes, he is not executing prisoners. He is offering death sacrifices to the Cold God."
"Death sacrifices!"
Seeing Thoros's shocked expression, Moqorro nodded with satisfaction and continued.
"According to the temple's records, the evil Cold God rules over three powers: cold, darkness, and death.
"At the beginning, Robb Stark and his direwolf were not so special. But once he began taking lives without pause, his power grew stronger and stronger, and that direwolf's body became larger and larger.
"His terrible ice power appeared only after he took countless lives in the Westerlands and offered them in death sacrifice."
"If what Brother Moqorro says is true, then Robb Stark may indeed be the Cold God's servant. And the field of ice I saw last night in the flames...
"Perhaps it was the scene of our battle with him."
After hearing Moqorro, Thoros combined the words with his own prophecy and drew a conclusion.
"Everything I said is true. You can gather intelligence to verify it.
"Brother Thoros also saw a prophecy in the flames?
"Then the meaning behind my lord having you spread the faith here and help Brother Beric return from death must lie in this."
"The brothers here are commoners who suffered and had no choice but to resist. They have finally regained a peaceful life. Now you would have them continue fighting even stronger enemies.
"I do not think we have that right."
After hearing Moqorro's somewhat excited words, Beric shook his head and made his position clear.
Moqorro, who had thought his purpose that day was nearly achieved, frowned at once. He saw Thoros fall silent as well, and anxiety rose in him.
He recalled High Priest Benerro's powerfully stirring sermons in Volantis. After considering for a moment, he asked, "Brother Beric, leaving aside the matter of the demon servant, do you think these brothers can return to living calmly and happily under noble rule?"
"Why not? Westeros has lived that way for thousands of years."
"Indeed. For thousands of years, most commoners in Westeros have spent their lives working and fighting for nobles, living the humblest and simplest lives.
"In the eyes of nobles, they are property, things under absolute control.
"I have heard that although the right of the first night was abolished long ago in Westeros, some nobles still ignore the law and enjoy that right in private.
"Do you want the brothers who followed you to be crushed under noble rule again, without hope or freedom, ruled, trampled, and slaughtered as those nobles please?"
Moqorro's voice grew more intense as he spoke. After questioning Beric, he continued loudly without waiting for an answer.
"Across the narrow sea, Braavos has already become a city without oppression. Its Sealord is chosen from among ordinary citizens, not by blood!
"In Volantis, High Priest Benerro is also devoted to achieving this goal. I have heard he has already declared support for Daenerys Targaryen, who seeks to abolish slavery.
"The teaching of our temple of the Lord of Light is to honor the hopeful light and respect every free life.
"Therefore, my lord choosing you must mean he wishes to bring unprecedented change to Westeros."
Hope. Freedom. Change for Westeros.
Moqorro's ringing words echoed again and again in Beric's ears. He lowered his head and fell silent, thinking.
The remnants of Beric's memory flashed through his mind. In the end, they fixed on the village he had seen from the great stone that morning.
It was a peaceful rural life free from cruel war and cold noble oppression.
After Gregor's judgment the night before, Beric had felt that everything had lost meaning. Now fiery light gradually filled his eyes.
He raised his head sharply and asked Moqorro, "Brother Moqorro, leaving Robb Stark's army aside, even the Tully forces in the Riverlands far surpass us.
"Do you already have a proper plan?"
"Of course. Everything is ready. The fire that will sweep Westeros is about to be lit."
At Highgarden, in the west-gate harbor district, Prince Oberyn enjoyed treatment fitting his princely status and was imprisoned alone in a tent.
"Your Grace, since you already know the Iron Bank is behind your enemy, why come speak with me?"
When Robb spoke the intelligence Oberyn had kept silent about from the beginning, confusion crossed Oberyn's face.
"The North, the Iron Islands, the Riverlands, the Westerlands, and the Reach are all firmly under my control. I now command more than a hundred thousand men. Tywin Lannister is only making his last desperate struggle."
Robb did not answer Oberyn's question directly. Instead, he stated the facts with a smile.
"Your Grace, what do you mean by telling me this?"
"Prince Oberyn, I will allow you to return to Sunspear. Please help me persuade Prince Doran. If Dorne submits to me, I will help you take revenge.
"I will kill the Mountain and make Tywin admit in public that he ordered Gregor to murder Princess Elia."
Hearing Oberyn's question, Robb stated his purpose plainly.
In Robb's current campaign to conquer the Seven Kingdoms, only the crownlands, the Stormlands, the Vale, and Dorne remained.
The crownlands and Stormlands were currently territories ruled by House Lannister, and were the focus of Robb's next attack. While he attacked them with all his strength, the Vale and Dorne could be considered two major variables.
The Vale sat apart, easy to defend and difficult to attack. It had appeared once under Littlefinger's command, helping Tywin capture Edmure after Edmure advanced alone too deeply.
But according to current intelligence, the chaos and civil war in the Vale was no less intense than the wars in the North and the Westerlands. Littlefinger currently had no ability to spare men or attention for Tywin.
That left Dorne.
To be honest, if Robb truly wanted to march on Dorne, he was confident he could take Sunspear even with mountains and desert as barriers.
The key problem was that if he used force to conquer Dorne, there would be endless rebellion afterward.
In history, Daeron I, the Young Dragon, was a lesson. After he conquered Dorne by force, he had to suppress rebellions everywhere and eventually died in a Dornish trap.
In the end, Dorne had joined the Seven Kingdoms peacefully only through marriage.
Judging from history, Dorne was a land better won by persuasion than by force.
Robb did not want to sink into Dorne's mire at such a time, so he wanted to make Dorne submit peacefully.
"Is what you say true?"
Hearing Robb, Oberyn straightened at once and stared into his eyes.
"Of course. When I make a promise, I do exactly what I said. Even the promise I once made to Tywin, I later kept in good faith. You can fully verify that."
Robb's status was now noble and imposing. The reputation he had deliberately built for himself was beginning to matter.
"Good. Aside from my sister's matter, if Dorne submits to you, then Tywin's support and the Iron Bank's loans may..."
Oberyn nodded. He had understood Robb before marching out, and now he spoke with some hesitation.
"As long as Dorne submits, whatever they can give you, I can give. Whatever they cannot give, I can still give."
Since occupying the Westerlands and gaining the strong support of Margaery's wealthy family, Robb's confidence had grown. Understanding Oberyn's meaning, he answered with a generous wave of his hand.
"Good. Your Grace, I do not think I need to return personally to persuade my brother. I only need to write him a letter in my own hand and explain.
"I still want to bring the Dornish soldiers at Highgarden into your army and kill Lannister bastards together."
Oberyn shook his head and said he need not personally persuade Prince Doran. When he spoke of killing Lannisters, he stretched out his long tongue and licked his lips.
"Ha! Good. Once Prince Doran's reply comes, we will kill Lannister bastards together."
Having solved the Dorne problem without force, Robb's mood improved at once.
After speaking with Oberyn for another half hour, he left the prison tent.
In the days that followed, everyone in Highgarden grew busy. While the damaged walls such as the south gate were repaired, preparations were also made for the coming war.
During this time, the Hightower envoy also arrived at Highgarden as expected to discuss ransom.
Under Robb's extravagant demands, the Hightower envoy broke into a sweat and said he had to report to Lord Leyton for a decision.
Nearly half a month passed quickly. Highgarden's basic repairs were nearly finished.
After Lord Leyton gave his approval, House Hightower used the family fleet left in Oldtown to sail from the Sunset Sea into the Mander, transporting a vast ransom of gold and grain to Highgarden.
Seeing the ransom piled like a mountain, Robb marveled at Oldtown's wealth while returning Ser Baelor, Garth, the reluctant Malora, and the Hightower soldiers.
During this time, Malora had asked Robb twice more for research materials. Her research, however, had made no progress at all.
Before leaving, she again pleaded, coaxed, and pestered Robb until she obtained some hair, fingernails, and a little blood as research material.
Prince Doran's reply from Dorne also reached Highgarden during this period. As Oberyn had expected, under Robb's better terms than Tywin's, and with the Dornish prince and his soldiers held as prisoners, Prince Doran instructed him to swear fealty to the king on his behalf.
Afterward, the freed Prince Oberyn knelt in Highgarden's council hall before many nobles and swore fealty to him. From that moment on, Dorne submitted to Robb's rule.
The next day, while waiting for Highgarden to complete its war preparations, Robb walked through the inner castle garden with Margaery holding his arm.
Margaery now cherished her leisurely time in Highgarden greatly. She knew the second half of her life would be spent in bustling King's Landing, glorious but busy.
As Robb and Margaery were speaking pleasantly, a Tyrell guard hurried over.
"Your Grace, Lady Olenna sent me to invite you over."
The guard's face was anxious. He did not even salute Margaery before speaking to Robb.
"Hm? Is there some urgent matter?"
Seeing the guard's face, Robb's smile slowly faded.
"This... it is hard to say. Please see for yourself."
"Very well."
Since the guard said this, Robb did not ask further. He turned to Margaery.
"Go quickly. If Grandmother sent for you like this, it must be important."
Margaery patted Robb's hand gently and nodded.
Robb nodded to her, then immediately followed the guard at a brisk pace toward the old woman's rooms.
Olenna's chambers were located in Highgarden's highest tower, from which the surrounding scenery could be viewed in all directions.
When Robb arrived, she was standing on the broad northern balcony, with the twin guards beside her.
"Your Grace, look."
Hearing footsteps behind her, Olenna turned back. Her face was iron-cold as she pointed ahead.
Robb strode onto the broad balcony and looked north.
A tide of people had appeared north of Highgarden, moving along the Roseroad.
Robb's excellent vision let him see more clearly than Olenna and the twins. This slowly moving tide from the north was not an enemy army under banners, but countless refugees dragging their belongings and children with them.
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