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Chapter 221: God or Not
🕑 Added 2025-03-22 13:27:08 +0000 UTCThe Night Song Inn was an establishment with an exotic flair. While its owner was a native of Braavos, the architect who designed and built it was a runaway slave from Yunkai.
Braavos' deep-seated hatred of slavery was ingrained in its very identity. The city had even gone to war multiple times with its fellow Free Cities over the issue of slavery. For instance, it had clashed with Pentos five or six times in conflicts spanning over two centuries, only ceasing hostilities when Pentos finally abolished slavery and reestablished their alliance.
Yet now, in the heart of this staunchly anti-slavery city, stood an inn built in the distinct style of the slave city of Yunkai—a fact that carried a touch of irony.
However, for foreign visitors, the inn was undeniably luxurious. The Yunkai runaway who built it had modeled it after the residences of Yunkai’s Good Masters, making it far superior to most of the other inns in Braavos. Naturally, its prices reflected this exclusivity.
A typical Braavosi dockworker earned only eight or nine silver coins a month, while a single night at the Night Song Inn cost twenty-two silver coins. That was precisely why the guide had needed to confirm Lynd’s wealth before leading him here.
After checking in, Lynd was given a third-floor room near the water, as per his request. From its window, he had a clear view of the Temple of the Storm God. The room also featured a private bath, with a water pipe running in from outside, ensuring guests could access water at any time.
Once settled, Lynd instructed one of the inn’s servants to buy him a set of local Braavosi attire. After freshening up and changing out of his mercenary clothes, he left the inn and made his way toward the Temple of the Storm God.
...
Lynd had never intended to seek out the Miracle Merchant Guild upon arriving in Braavos. He was well aware that many eyes were watching its every move.
When the Miracle Merchant Guild had expanded into other Free Cities, it had established branches and liaison offices with ease. Only in Braavos had it faced significant resistance. The Sealord of Braavos had consistently refused to allow the guild to set up a presence in the city.
It wasn’t until Lynd unified the Stepstones and decreed that only ships belonging to guild members could pass through the waters toll-free that the Sealord of Braavos, under pressure from the city’s merchants, finally relented and permitted the guild to establish a liaison office.
This alone made it clear how wary the Sealord was of the Miracle Merchant Guild—a wariness that extended to Lynd himself, the man behind it. The Sealord had undoubtedly stationed people to keep a close watch on the guild. If Lynd were to approach it personally, he would only be exposing himself to the Sealord’s scrutiny, jeopardizing his future plans.
For this reason, Lynd had always intended to operate alone in Braavos. He hadn’t even considered making contact with the covert agents he had previously placed in the city.
However, after catching sight of the Temple of the Storm God, a new idea took shape in his mind—he would find a way to bring the temple under his control and use it as his foothold in Braavos.
...
Braavos had been founded by people from many different regions, each bringing their own religious beliefs. As a result, the city had become home to the most diverse collection of faiths in the known world. Even religions that arrived later were freely accepted; Braavos welcomed all gods within its walls.
This inclusivity granted religious institutions an untouchable status. Not even the Sealord himself could use force or take any hostile action against any temple or shrine in the city.
The only exception was if a god had lost all its followers. In such cases, the Braavosi City Hall would relocate the deity’s statue to the Sanctuary of the Unseen for safekeeping, and the abandoned temple could then be repurposed. The Temple of the Storm God itself had been built on an island where a former, long-abandoned shrine had once stood.
Because of this special status, even if the Sealord were to discover in the future that Lynd controlled the Temple of the Storm God, he would be powerless to act—unless he was prepared to challenge every religious institution in the city.
...
As Lynd crossed the arched bridge and arrived at the Temple of the Storm God’s plaza, a religious ceremony was underway. A storm had swept through Braavos the previous day, and following tradition, most of the city's Storm God followers had gathered to offer a ritual of thanksgiving.
The faith of the Storm God had never been organized under a single, unified church. Lynd had always taken a laissez-faire approach to it, allowing each temple or shrine to function independently. As a result, every Temple of the Storm God had its own unique practices and autonomous priests.
The current priest of the Braavosi Temple of the Storm God was named Lyra. She had come from the Temple of the Moonsingers and had once been a Moonsinger herself.
It was said that she had received a divine revelation from the Storm God several years ago, prompting her to abandon her previous priesthood and devote herself entirely to preaching the word of the Storm God. Since then, she had been bestowing blessings and spreading the faith near the docks.
At first, no one paid much attention to her; some even thought she was mad. After all, the Moonsingers held a position of high status in Braavos, and for someone to abandon the priesthood of the Moonsingers was akin to a merchant willingly giving up all his wealth.
However, as more and more sailors who had received her blessings miraculously survived what should have been fatal storms, the number of believers in the Storm God steadily grew. Eventually, she used donated resources to purchase a small island in the central lake, where an abandoned shrine once stood. Using the original foundation, she constructed the Temple of the Storm God, naturally becoming its priestess in the process.
Although Lyra, like all Moonsingers, claimed to have pure Jogos Nhai blood, her features differed significantly from those of the Jogos Nhai. The only unmistakable trait revealing her lineage was the pointed shape of her skull, characteristic of the Jogos Nhai. This feature became even more pronounced after she shaved her head and tattooed the sacred emblem of the Storm God onto her scalp.
Unlike other deities, whose faiths had well-established sacrificial rites, Lyra had simply adapted the Moonsinger rituals to her own purposes. She offered live sacrifices, recited prayers of her own invention, and disposed of the offerings on the spot. The meat and bones were boiled in a massive cauldron before the temple and distributed as soup to beggars, while the entrails were sealed in clay jars and taken by boat beyond the city to be cast into the sea. The blood was mixed with dyes to create a black liquid, which she then used to draw a single horizontal line on the forehead of each believer, signifying the blessing of the Storm God.
After the sacrificial ceremony, Lyra would host a theater troupe in the temple square, where they performed plays depicting stories of the Storm God—such as sailors surviving deadly storms through divine intervention. Since many of the people in these stories were still alive and present in the crowd, the performances only strengthened the believers’ faith. They felt that the Storm God was not a distant entity, but one who watched over them closely, reinforcing their devotion.
In a way, their feelings weren’t entirely unfounded—because the Storm God they worshipped was, indeed, standing at the edge of the square, observing them. The only difference was that this Storm God was not quite the one they had imagined.
...
Lynd stood at the edge of the square, watching the entire sacrificial ritual, then lingered for a while to observe the ongoing play. Only after taking it all in did he step forward, entering the Temple of the Storm God, curious to see what lay inside.
The temple’s interior was vast and empty, its roof supported by a dozen towering pillars. The floor was paved with smooth stone slabs, and aside from a massive Storm God statue—so large its head nearly touched the ceiling—there was little else within. The space felt sparse, almost crude.
But Lynd’s attention was quickly drawn to the statue itself.
It was unmistakably modeled after him, wearing the Banished Knight armor. The face had not been carved, but due to the Banished Knight helmet, the entire visage was shrouded in shadow, lending the figure a solemn and imposing aura.
As Lynd studied the statue in detail, his brows furrowed with doubt.
What puzzled him was the astonishing level of detail in the armor. The sculptor had replicated not just the overall shape with near-perfect accuracy, but even the intricate engravings and dragon runes etched into the metal. However, there was a notable peculiarity—while the engravings had been carefully recreated, the sculptor had deliberately left breaks in the rune carvings, preventing them from forming a complete sequence that might activate their effects.
In stark contrast to the precision of the armor, the greatswords at the statue’s waist appeared crude and unremarkable. They looked like ordinary knight’s swords, hastily carved with meaningless symbols.
If the statue had only borne a passing resemblance to his armor, Lynd wouldn’t have given it much thought. After all, countless people had seen the Banished Knight armor over the years, and it wasn’t impossible for someone to recall and reproduce its form.
But this?
This level of accuracy—the sheer precision of the engravings and the dragon runes—was impossible to recreate simply from memory. Lynd knew for a fact that the Banished Knight armor he personally wore had never featured these embellishments. The only set of armor that did was the enchanted suit he had commissioned in Qohor, crafted based on blueprints he had given to Varys.
In other words, whoever carved this statue had either seen his armor’s blueprints or laid eyes on the finished Qohor-made set.
This realization immediately brought one thing to Lynd’s mind—the enchanted armor that now rested in the hands of the Sealord of Braavos.
...
Inside the temple, many Storm God believers knelt in prayer. Most of them were sailors, men who were typically brash and unruly. Yet here, in this sacred space, they all became subdued, carefully selecting a spot to either sit or kneel, offering silent prayers in their own ways. Though their methods of worship varied, they all maintained a uniform silence, as if afraid to disturb the presence they sought to revere.
Lynd moved past the gathered believers and approached the statue, carefully examining the intricate patterns and dragon runes carved into its surface. It didn’t take long for him to notice something unusual. Judging by the signs of corrosion and wear, the statue itself had been created long before the patterns and runes were added. This suggested that the statue had originally been sculpted and placed in the temple for worship, only for the engravings to be added much later.
As Lynd studied the details, he heard the soft sound of footsteps approaching from behind. Turning his head, he saw Priestess Lyra, who had just finished leading the sacrificial rites outside, now walking toward him.
From her expression, Lynd could tell she had come specifically for him—and judging by the look in her eyes, she had likely already recognized him. Without revealing any reaction, he remained still and watched her in silence.
Lyra stopped before Lynd, gazing at him with an unreadable expression. Then, with deliberate intent, she inclined her head in greeting and, in slightly awkward Common Tongue, said,
“It is an honor to meet you, Embodiment of the Storm, Chosen of My Lord.”
Lynd hesitated upon hearing this title, then asked with curiosity,
“You know me?”
Lyra shook her head. “You carry My Lord’s presence. There is no one else in this world who could possibly bear that presence—only you, Embodiment of the Storm.”
Lynd frowned. “My Lord’s presence?” he repeated. “Explain.”
Lyra glanced around before replying, “This is not the place to speak of such things. Please, follow me.”
Without waiting for a response, she turned and led Lynd away from the temple’s main hall. They passed through a small door behind the statue, emerging into the courtyard at the rear of the temple. After crossing the courtyard, they arrived at a small terrace overlooking the water.
Lyra signaled the temple attendants to prepare some fruit juice before dismissing them. Once they were alone, she gestured for Lynd to sit and said,
“I sensed your arrival the moment you set foot in Braavos. I had intended to seek you out tomorrow, but it seems you have come to My Lord’s temple first.”
Lynd hesitated for a moment, then discreetly activated his special vision to scan Lyra. Yet, despite her claims, he found no traces of magical energy emanating from her.
Disabling his vision, he asked, “What do you mean by ‘sensing me’?”
Lyra explained calmly, “When I received My Lord’s revelation, He granted me the ability to perceive the Storm. To others, you may appear no different from any ordinary man, but in my sight, you are a storm enveloping all of Braavos. Only My Lord’s Embodiment could radiate such an unmistakable presence.”
Lynd listened carefully, feeling a growing sense of unease. After a brief pause, he asked,
“When you say ‘My Lord,’ you mean the Storm God, correct?”
Lyra smiled faintly and nodded. “Of course.”
Lynd continued, “Then do you know who I am? Beyond being this so-called Embodiment of the Storm?”
Lyra’s response was immediate. “Of course. Chosen of the Seven Gods, Lord of Summerhall, King of the Stepstones and the Narrow Sea—Lynd Tayra.”
Lynd narrowed his eyes. “Then you must know where the faith of the Storm God comes from. You even sculpted the Storm God’s statue in my image, yet from what you’re saying… something doesn’t add up.”
Lyra noticed his skepticism and clarified,
“Your instincts are not wrong. While the current faith in the Storm God does originate from you, the Storm God I worship is not you. To put it simply—you are the Storm God, but the Storm God is not you.”
Lynd frowned. “Are you saying that I—whether intentionally or not—gave rise to the belief in the Storm God, but what you personally worship is only the concept of the Storm God, rather than me as an actual entity? Is that why you keep calling me the ‘Embodiment of the Storm’ rather than addressing me directly as the Storm God?”
“No, you misunderstand.” Lyra shook her head and stood. “Wait here. I will fetch something to show you.”
She walked toward a small chamber at the side of the courtyard. Moments later, she returned with a painting in her hands. After placing it on the table, she looked at Lynd expectantly.
The moment Lynd laid eyes on the painting, he understood everything.
Depicted in the artwork was the Nameless King, surrounded by the Storm. This was the true Storm God that Lyra worshipped.
A new question surfaced in Lynd’s mind. “It is said that years ago, you received a vision from the Storm God, which led you to embrace this faith. Was the entity in your vision… also the one in this painting?”
Lyra shook her head. “At the time, My Lord’s revelation was vague. I could only faintly sense the presence of the Storm. This feeling persisted for years. But a few months ago, I finally perceived My Lord’s presence clearly—and for the first time, I saw His true form. By then, however, the statue in the temple had already been built. Since it, too, could represent My Lord, I saw no need to change it.”
She met Lynd’s gaze and added,
“You don’t need to dwell on this. Though I distinguish between My Lord’s true form and His Embodiment, in my heart, you and He are one and the same.”
Lynd, however, did not believe her.
Her expression held no reverence for him as a deity. She looked at him not with worship, but with the eyes of someone who saw him as a mere vessel—nothing more than a container for the god she truly revered.
Yet, instead of debating Lyra’s beliefs, Lynd was far more concerned about the Nameless King.
From her words, he deduced that she had first sensed the Nameless King’s presence during his conquest of the Stepstones—when he had activated the Heart of the Nameless King rune and the Dragon runes to summon a storm, dispersing the sea fog in the battle.
Thinking of this, Lynd decided to test something.
He once again activated the Heart of the Nameless King rune, wanting to see Lyra’s reaction.
...
As the Nameless King rune came to life, the magical energy contained within it instinctively merged with the Storm and Lightning Dragon runes. An invisible force erupted from Lynd’s body, surging into the sky.
Immediately, a thick mist began to rise across Braavos’ waters, so dense that visibility dropped to no more than a few feet. Above, dark clouds gathered at an unnatural speed, and lightning crackled through the sky.
Within moments, the entire city was plunged into darkness.
“My Lord!”
Lyra’s expression shifted completely. No longer did she look at Lynd as an ordinary man. Now, her eyes were filled with pure worship and reverence.
Without hesitation, she rose from her seat, then dropped to her knees before Lynd. Like the fanatic believers of the Seven Gods in Summerhall, she even kissed the back of his feet.
...
Lynd, however, had no time to pay attention to her.
He was wholly captivated by the scene unfolding before him.
The moment he had activated the Nameless King rune, his vision shifted—as though he had been pulled into a vast void.
Before him, hundreds—no, thousands—of glowing points of light flickered in the darkness.
The largest of them hovered right in front of him.
When he reached out toward it, he heard whispers of countless prayers, and he saw delicate strands of energy linking one small light to another.
Some of these lights were scattered throughout Braavos. Others were drifting upon the distant sea.
Through them, Lynd could see far beyond the city, as if he were physically present in those remote places.
