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Chapter 261: The Seven's Redemption
🕑 Added 2025-04-11 11:48:17 +0000 UTCIn the end, nothing changed. Though Volantis was unwilling to see its spoils taken away, there was nothing it could do to alter the situation. Severing ties with Lynd was not an option either, as that would mean forfeiting any share in the lucrative mines of the Disputed Lands.
Moreover, they lacked the energy to deal with this matter, as the plague that had previously appeared in the Disputed Lands had suddenly erupted in Volantis once again.
The people of Volantis blamed the Windblown and the Golden Company, who happened to be resting in the city, and expelled them. However, not wanting to completely antagonize two such powerful mercenary groups, they provided them with ample supplies of food and fodder as they were driven out.
After briefly stopping in Volon Therys, which had already been sacked and left in ruins by the Dothraki, the two companies went their separate ways. The Windblown headed east, planning to take the Demon Road to Slaver's Bay, while the Golden Company moved north in search of work in Ny Sar, Ghoyan Drohe, Qohor, or Norvos.
Yet, even after their departure, the plague in Volantis did not subside. Instead, it grew even more severe. As a result, many in the city turned to worshipping the God of Plagues, hoping that the Triarchs would set aside land for a temple in His name and send for aid from the priests constructing the Holy City of the Scourge in the Disputed Lands.
For Volantis’s rulers, allocating land for a new temple was not a difficult decision. Though the city was primarily devoted to R’hllor, the Lord of Light—whom almost all native Volantene, both commoners and nobility, worshipped—it did not mean they were incapable of tolerating other religions.
In fact, temples to the Lion of Night, the Moonsingers, and the Many-Faced God already stood within the city, and their followers coexisted—albeit uneasily—with R’hllor’s devotees. Another god among them was not necessarily an issue.
However, the idea of inviting the priests of the God of Plagues presented a problem for Volantis’s elite. Lynd’s conquest of Myr had made it clear that the Church of the God of Calamity was wholly loyal to him. It was even rumored that the god’s statues were designed by Lynd himself—rather than depicting a specific form, they bore only a single symbol, the same emblem that marked the pommel of the sword in Lynd’s coat of arms.
This close association between Lynd and the Church of the God of Calamity left Volantis deeply uneasy. They feared that, through the church, Lynd could infiltrate Volantis just as he had with Tyrosh and Myr—conquering without ever needing to draw a blade.
However, before Volantis could even decide whether to invite the priests or not, the plague had already spread beyond them. All three major cities of Slaver’s Bay fell to the sickness, as did nearly every Free City—only Norvos and Qohor remained untouched. Rumors even suggested that the plague had reached the many khalasars roaming the Dothraki Sea.
And that was not the end of it. Soon, every city that had traded with the Free Cities was afflicted: Miracle Harbor in Lynd, Sunspear and Planky Town in Dorne, Oldtown in the Reach, Lannisport in the Westerlands, King’s Landing in the Crownlands, Gulltown in the Vale, and White Harbor in the North.
Only then did people finally realize—the plague had originated with the Dothraki.
By the time they left the Disputed Lands, the sickness had already taken root. However, since it spread primarily among their slaves and captives, the Dothraki paid it no mind.
Once in Slaver’s Bay, they sold infected slaves to the region’s masters, unwittingly introducing the plague into the cities.
As before, the sickness first took hold among the slaves, but their masters showed no concern for their well-being and thus did nothing to stop it. Soon, infected slaves were transported to Volantis, Lys, Tyrosh, Myr, and beyond, spreading the disease further. Those who had come into contact with the sick then carried it to other trade cities, and before long, the plague had swept through the coastal markets of both sides of the Narrow Sea.
Amid this outbreak, which had spiraled completely out of control, Lynd was the first to respond. He established quarantine zones within his city, distributed medicine, and set up inspection stations at the docks. He would have sealed off Lys, Tyrosh, Myr, and Miracle Harbor—along with the Stepstones—if such a thing were even possible. But even with all his power and influence, that was beyond his reach.
Still, thanks to the use of artemisinin, the miraculous plague remedy, and the swift detection and containment efforts, the outbreak in his domain was eradicated in less than half a month.
The situation in other cities, however, was vastly different. The plague continued to worsen. In King’s Landing, for instance, countless people had perished, and in Flea Bottom alone, a third of the population was dead. Similar devastation had gripped city after city.
Now back at Summerhall Castle, Lynd carefully reviewed the reports submitted by his officials. His expression remained severe throughout.
As he finally closed the last document, a trace of exhaustion flickered across his face. He had not had a proper night’s rest since the plague began.
Although the plague was caused by the Dothraki, he had foreseen it in advance and allowed it to unfold, believing he could contain it within the Disputed Lands. Now, reality had delivered a harsh slap to his face, pulling him out of his arrogance and pride.
Ever since he reclaimed the magical armor and demonstrated god-like power in Qohor—subduing an entire Free City on his own—Lynd had grown conceited, convinced that everything was under his control. He had even let himself be carried away by the praises of the priests and septons of the God of Calamity, the God of Storms, the God of Magic, and others.
Now that he had come to his senses, he found it difficult to understand his past actions. Why had he believed he could control a plague that even the most advanced technology of his previous world had failed to contain? The only explanation was that, at that moment, he had truly considered himself a god.
Lynd let out a self-deprecating chuckle before turning to the bishops of the Redemption Sept and the Miracle Sept, who were waiting nearby. “Bishop Hullen, Bishop Zanchi, have you completed the preparations I asked for?”
“The personnel and supplies are ready. We can depart at any time,” the two men replied promptly.
“Then there's no need to delay—go now!” Lynd nodded, then added, “If you encounter anything you can't resolve, send someone to report immediately. Also, remind the septons that when it comes to saving others versus protecting themselves, their own safety must come first.”
The two bishops responded with a nod, took the authorization document for supply distribution from Lynd’s hand, and left the room.
Lynd then turned to Lyra, the High Septon of Storms, who had just arrived from Braavos. “Return to Braavos immediately and take the medicine with you. I'll send a few more shipments later. You must follow my epidemic prevention guidelines strictly—there can be no lapses. If the medicine supply runs low, send a messenger in advance. Don’t wait until it's gone before reporting it.”
“As you command,” Lyra answered swiftly.
Once Lyra had departed, Lynd turned to Mafas, the High Priest of the God of Calamity. “You should already know what to do regarding Pentos and Volantis, right?”
Mafas inclined his head. “I understand, my lord.” Then, after a brief hesitation, he asked, “What about Slaver’s Bay...?”
Lynd cut him off. “We’ll deal with Pentos and Volantis first. Slaver’s Bay can wait.”
Hearing this, Mafas said no more. He took the authorization document and hurriedly left the study.
Lynd turned to the Holy Sister of Redemption, who had just arrived from Ny Sar, and asked, “How are things on Nymeria’s side?”
The Holy Sister of Redemption replied, “Everything is normal. So far, there are no signs of the plague, and the medicinal supplies you sent over are more than sufficient.”
“Did she say when she would be returning?” Lynd asked in a low voice.
The Holy Sister shook her head. “The Lady hopes Augustus can stay in Ny Sar for a while.”
Lynd let out a self-deprecating chuckle. “What is this, a separation?” He sighed, then nodded. “When you return, take Augustus with you. I’ll also send some maesters specializing in construction.”
With that, Lynd stood up and, accompanied by the Holy Sister, walked out of the study, making his way to the dragon’s nest that had been specially built on one side of the castle.
When he arrived, the wyverns—whether soaring in the sky or resting on the platform—instinctively gathered around him, lightly nudging him with their heads in a show of affection.
Though only a few months old, the wyverns had grown rapidly, and the first batch had already taken to the skies. Lynd’s efforts to tame them had been highly successful. Their wild nature had been carefully restrained, and despite freely flying over the Town of Redemption for days, they had never once attacked people or livestock—proof that the training had worked.
The coordination between the Chosen Ones and the wyverns was also improving. The creatures had learned to recognize commands given through special whistle signals and displayed unwavering loyalty to their riders. Only their designated riders could issue commands through the whistle, and they refused to eat food from anyone else—except for Lynd.
“Where’s the little one?” Lynd asked one of the Chosen Ones.
The Chosen One, seemingly engaged in silent meditation, did not speak. Instead, he bowed and pointed toward the incubation chamber within the dragon’s nest.
Lynd stepped inside. A maester responsible for caring for the wyvern eggs was carefully lifting the small quilt covering an egg, checking and recording its condition.
Recently, the Miracle Merchant Guild had acquired another batch of wyvern eggs—more than thirty in total. Unfortunately, nine of them were dead, but the remaining eggs could still be nurtured using the dragon runes of the Banished Knights.
Before long, another wave of wyverns would hatch, bringing the total count to over forty—enough to be considered a proper flight of wyverns. If more were hatched in subsequent batches, they would eventually reach the point of self-sustaining reproduction, eliminating the need for further purchases.
Lynd passed through the wyvern hatchery and entered the chamber where true dragon eggs were incubating. Several Silent Brothers and Holy Sisters stood by the incubation table, tasked with guarding Augustus, who was fast asleep on the table, clutching a dragon egg in his arms.
While Lynd had been away commanding the assault on the Disputed Lands, Augustus had remained in the castle. For some reason, he had developed a fondness for the incubation chamber, particularly for sleeping while hugging a dragon egg. No matter how many times Lynd tried to correct this habit upon his return, the boy refused to change.
At first, Lynd speculated that Augustus might share some kind of mysterious bond with the incubating dragon. However, after conducting repeated examinations, he found no such connection. The truth was far simpler—the little one simply liked the warmth of the egg’s shell as the weather grew colder.
Upon reaching the incubation chamber, Lynd walked over, picked Augustus up from beside the dragon egg, and handed him to the Holy Sister of Redemption. He then instructed the Silent Brothers and Holy Sister responsible for guarding the child to accompany him to Ny Sar.
Augustus stirred slightly when lifted but soon drifted back to sleep in the Holy Sister’s arms, completely unaware that his father had just handed him off to his mother.
...
As the priests and septons of the Redemption Sept and the Miracle Sept set out for cities such as King’s Landing with supplies and medicine, the plague across Westeros gradually came under control.
Oldtown was the first to completely eradicate the plague. Before Lynd’s people even arrived, the maesters there had already quarantined all infected individuals and, together with House Hightower, imposed a strict lockdown on all incoming and outgoing ships.
Though the Citadel’s medicine was not as effective as artemisinin, it still managed to slow the plague’s spread. Once Lynd’s people arrived, their primary task was simply to treat the infected who had already been contained.
Compared to Oldtown, other cities fared far worse, with King’s Landing suffering the most. Every day, countless people died, and the entire population was confined indoors. Healers, septons, and maesters marked the doors of infected households with symbols, and corpse collectors transported the dead to the Dragonpit for cremation. The stench of burning bodies lingered over the city at all times, and a layer of corpse grease had already begun to coat the walls of buildings.
The scene evoked memories of the Great Spring Sickness a century ago—the similarities were uncanny.
During the outbreak, the King, Queen, and the court’s high-ranking officials fled to Harrenhal, abandoning King’s Landing. The Red Keep was left under the watch of a handful of soldiers, while the rest of the city was sealed off, allowing no one in or out.
When the Redemption Sept arrived with vast quantities of medicine and supplies, the people of King’s Landing erupted in chants of “The Seven above all” and “The Chosen One saves.” The fervor only intensified when the septons took over medical treatment, pulling countless dying individuals back from the Stranger’s grasp. The entire city was consumed by religious zeal, with even foreigners of different faiths converting to the Seven.
The same phenomenon unfolded in Sunspear, Gulltown, White Harbor, and even Lannisport. As the plague waned, the Faith of the Seven surged to unprecedented heights, and the belief in a divine savior became the dominant doctrine.
Lynd’s reputation eclipsed all others. It was no exaggeration to say that the combined prestige of the Seven Kingdoms' great lords paled in comparison to his.
