Game Of Thrones: The God-Emperor of Planetos-Chapter 164 - War of the Four Kings (XI)

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"Free will. Such a vague word, but something so imaginary is as important as the soul itself. If you lose your freedom, you'll be a pawn in the hands of the gods. What a miserable fate." Aenar Targaryen, God Emperor of Planets.

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Looking at the red and gold wave before him, Jaime Lannister's face couldn't have been more serious. House Targaryen's private army was large and powerful, and it wasn't even the full force. Jaime knew that there were only sixty thousand, the Northumbrian army was in the Vale along with the King himself and the Dragon called Caraxes.

Something Jaime thanked the Seven for, if the entire Targaryen force had been present and along with the adult dragon, he could very well have been waiting to be burned to death at any moment the young Aenar king wanted. That feeling of being able to die at any moment was not something he liked to feel.

However, that didn't mean that things were any better. He had two options in front of him. Face the Targaryen army head-on outside Harrenhal or stay behind the walls and delay the advance of the enemy troops.

Honestly, both strategies had clear disadvantages and advantages, but he himself was indecisive when faced with a choice so crucial to the course of the war. Although it was tempting to delay the advance of enemy troops, he knew it was also a double-edged sword.

The longer he delayed, the closer Aenar would come, and with him, an army of around forty thousand one adult dragons.

When that happens, the course of the war will change dramatically. He himself would not know if he could survive in the face of the dangers that lay ahead. Was this how his ancestors felt in the face of the overwhelming force called the Targaryen with dragons?

Suddenly, under Jaime's surprised eyes, a Septon who had been in his room, writing the report for his father, began to glow. To be more specific, behind the Septon's head, a halo of light formed.

Jaime merely drew his sword and looked cautiously at the Septon. Reverence before such pure and majestic power? Sorry, as Heir to a Great House, religion was just a tool for the powerful to control the peasants.

"Fear not, my son." A feminine voice came out of the male septon's mouth. A warm, gentle, maternal aura filled the surroundings. For a moment, Jaime felt like he was in his mother's arms again.

"Who are you?" Clenching the hilt of his sword tightly, Jaime asked with an expression of fear at what was happening.

"I am the Mother of the Seven Faced God." The female voice sounded again from the male Septan's mouth. "Outside these walls, an army is already preparing to sweep across this continent once again, and with them, foreign gods."

"It has been decided that something like this is unacceptable. We have decided to intervene indirectly, we will give our blessings to you, Jaime of House Lannister." The Mother spoke using the male body of the Septon. However, the poor man's body was already showing signs of collapse.

Blood was dripping from his eyes, nose, mouth and ears. One of his eyes was completely blind, showing that the mortal body could never accommodate a god.

Before Jaime could respond, the Heir of Casterly Rock only saw a seven-pointed star shoot towards him and without being able to dodge it, he watched helplessly as the seven-pointed star plunged into his chest.

An overwhelming heat ran through his body, Jaime only felt his consciousness being swallowed up by the darkness, but he still heard the female voice again.

"Remember, the remnants of the Draconic Gods must all be killed."

Jaime couldn't answer, as he was already unconscious on the floor. As for the Septon who had his body used as a receptacle for the descent of a God, it simply exploded, decorating the floor, ceiling and walls like tomato sauce decorating a pizza.

When Jaime woke up again, he found himself lying on the floor, but he didn't get up and check the information in his mind. Information about Aenar and his danger. There was also information about the blessings he had received from the God of the Seven Faces.

The Father had given him superhuman strength.

The mother had given him the ability to resist.

The Warrior had given him invulnerability to swords and other weapons.

The Smith had given him the ability to resist fire and heat.

The Maiden had given him the ability to heal.

The Crone had given him superhuman speed.

The Stranger had given him the ability of superhuman perception.

[Note: Jaime will have the strength of a White Walker two levels weaker than the Night King.]

Looking at the body of the Septan that was decorating the floor, ceiling and walls, Jaime sighed and drank an entire glass of wine in one gulp. What happened to him was something he never thought he would experience in his life.

First he talked to the Mother of the Seven Faces and then he received the blessing of the God of the Seven Faces, each giving them abilities that were simply impossible to the human eye.

"Why me?" Jaime muttered with a puzzled expression. Was he devout? Definitely not, if his father asked him to, Jaime wouldn't hesitate to go to Old Town to burn the Sept of Old Town.

"Is it because I'm fit to fight House Targaryen?" Jaime asked himself with a helpless expression full of bitterness. He didn't want to have these powers or this responsibility, but thinking of Tommen and Myrcella's faces, the King's Assassin expression became firm again.

Jaime didn't mind dying, but his son and daughter must survive, and for that to happen, he had to become a slave of the gods, he had accepted his fate.

"However, even with these powers, this battle won't be easy." Jaime muttered, looking at where the House Targaryen army was located. With the Stranger's blessing, he could sense three extremely frightening auras in the enemy camp. Two no smaller than his own!!!

The third, although weaker, was not so weak that he was able to ignore it. Jaime assumed that this aura belonged to the Reverend Mother of the Red Faith, Kinvara. A dangerous, cruel and decisive woman.

His father had already thoroughly investigated King Aenar and knew who made up the Court of House Targaryen.

"May the seven bless me." Jaime muttered to himself as he gave him a slightly pitying look.

The man hadn't realized it, but he had paid a heavy price by becoming a dog of the gods. He had lost his free will and would never again be as free as he was as a mortal. Jaime Lannister was nothing more than a pawn in the hands of the God of the Seven Faces.

In the Targaryen camp, Kinvara stopped what she was doing and looked towards Harrenhal, her red eyes seemed to be burning with red flames.

"As the king had said, the God of the Seven Faces has indeed intervened." Kinvara murmured with a smile appearing on her lips.

"Since you broke the rules, take the consequences of your actions." Kinvara flashed a cruel smile. The Red God could be many things, but he was above all a God who was cruel to his own enemies.

The God of the Seven Faces acted first and even though he wasn't in Essos, R'hllor could finally intervene personally on the Continent of Essos.

When Kinvara was planning countless cruel and sadistic plans for the champion of the God of the Seven Faces, a large man wearing heavy armor appeared before her.

"Lord Sigismund, the Heretic God has descended his will on the mortal world and blessed a mortal enemy." Kinvara, knowing Sigismund's purpose, spoke directly what she had felt a moment ago.

A cold look passed over Sigismund's resolute face, he looked at the witch before him and asked with a disciplined tone. "What is my king's order?"

"Leave the safety of Queen Visenya and Princess Rhaenys to Titus, you will be on the front line." Kinvara said, rising from his chair. "You and I will fight as the Champion of the Seven Faced God and hold it in honor of our king and lord."

Sigismund's eyes glowed, his fists began to emit a black aura, covering his gauntlets, making them look especially frightening. Together with his rather frightening appearance, the man could practically scare a child to the point of tears.

"I know no fear, only duty and responsibility to my king." Sigismund said. "If my king wants the blessed man dead, I'll tear his head off with my fists."

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