BlurryDream
patreon
Chapter 194: The Effects of the Seven’s Trial
🕑 Added 2025-03-08 13:16:01 +0000 UTC“This is the trial warrior you claim has completed the soul remolding.” In the underground laboratory of the Black Cave, Lynd observed the three towering warriors standing before him. Clad in heavy full-body armor and gripping battle axes, they cut an imposing figure. Turning to Qyburn beside him, he asked his question.
Who would have thought that these massive warriors, taller than Lynd and nearly as tall as Nymeria, had once been frail and emaciated Silent Septons?
After undergoing the Seven Gods' Trial, their bodies had been enhanced several times over, transforming them into warriors whose physical capabilities were near the peak of human limits. If not for the side effects of the potion frying their minds, they might have already risen to lead the Chosen Ones.
“Yes, my lord,” Qyburn answered simply as always, but his tone betrayed his excitement.
“Let’s see how strong they are,” Lynd said in a low voice.
“That will require your order, my lord.” Qyburn glanced at Malora and the three members of the Redemption Sept nearby before speaking in a hushed tone. “Lady Malora’s loyalty potion and the soul remolding performed by these three church leaders have made them the most devout of the Chosen Ones. They will obey only you, the Chosen One. Unless you personally assign them to someone, no one else can command them.”
Hearing this, Lynd turned to the three members of the Redemption Sept and said, “Each of you, choose one.”
The three hesitated, momentarily unsure of Lynd’s intent.
“I will make them follow your orders,” Lynd continued, his expression grave. “This will make your tasks easier and ensure your safety. There will likely be more assassination attempts in the future—not just against me, but against you as well. I want you to have adequate protection.”
Understanding his reasoning, the three accepted his offer without protest and each selected a trial warrior.
Lynd then ordered the trial warriors to take turns battling the captured pirate prisoners. The fights began as one-against-many, and the results were impressive. Against five opponents at once, they fought with ease. Only when the number increased to six did minor weaknesses begin to show. They were not injured until they faced nine attackers at once.
“Enough, stop!” Malora called out when she saw the trial warriors cutting through the pirate prisoners like they were nothing more than livestock.
It wasn’t out of sympathy for these depraved criminals—far from it. These captives were valuable test subjects, and every loss was significant. The Silent Septons were responsible for screening the subjects, ensuring only those of the vilest nature were sent to the Black Cave.
Because of this, there was always a shortage of live test subjects. The recent influx of pirates from the Stepstones had somewhat alleviated the problem, but even then, only a select few were deemed worthy of the Black Cave rather than being sent to the mines. Now, merely for the sake of testing the trial warriors’ abilities, seven or eight of them had been killed. Even Malora found it wasteful.
However, her protest had little effect. The trial warrior continued his assault until, with a heavy warhammer, he crushed the skull of the last pirate. Only then did Elder Colin lift the small bell at his waist and ring it, signaling the end of the test.
Lynd stepped forward to inspect the warriors’ wounds and found that all of them were already beginning to heal. Clearly, the Seven Gods' Trial potion had not only granted them immense strength but also greatly enhanced their regenerative abilities.
“With such powerful trial warriors joining our ranks, the Chosen Ones will become even stronger,” Septon Hullen remarked, his excitement evident as he studied his assigned warrior. He then turned to Lynd and asked, “My lord, shouldn’t we increase the number of trial warriors? If we—”
“No, this is enough.” Lynd shook his head. “This method can only be a last resort, used only when absolutely necessary. It cannot become a routine practice. If every devout Septon of the Seven Gods were turned into a trial warrior, it would be the greatest desecration of their faith.”
As he spoke, he looked at Septon Hullen, then at Holy Sister Melessa and Elder Colin. “I expect all of you to have a limit to what you are willing to do. Do not abandon all restraint for the sake of short-term gains.”
“Yes, my lord,” the three replied in unison.
“My lord, may I take the bodies?” At that moment, Qyburn, the one with the least scruples among them, suddenly spoke up, pointing at the corpses on the ground.
Lynd glanced at Qyburn. He knew exactly what the man intended to do with them. After a brief moment of thought, he nodded in approval.
“What’s the situation with Joseth?” Lynd asked Malora again.
The last time he had gone to the Redemption Sept, he hadn’t seen Septon Joseth, who had completed the Seven Gods’ Trials, because Joseth was recuperating in the Black Cave.
At the time, Lynd had sensed that something was off, but with his impending marriage to Nymeria, he had set the matter aside. Today, aside from verifying the effects of the loyalty potion, he had also come to the Black Cave to check on Septon Joseth’s condition.
Malora replied, “Septon Joseth has almost fully recovered. After putting on the Dragon Rune Necklace you provided, he doesn’t lose his temper as easily, but his body will never return to its original state.”
Lynd frowned. “Let’s go see him.”
With that, the group made their way to the prison at the bottom of the Black Cave, where those on death row were kept. Septon Joseth had voluntarily chosen to be imprisoned here. In his own words, being in this dark and sinful place allowed him to feel the presence of the Seven Gods more clearly.
As they approached the prison, they heard a deep, rhythmic chanting emanating from within.
It wasn’t just one voice reciting the prayers but many, all in perfect unison. The voices harmonized in such a way that the sound felt almost soothing to those who heard it.
This kind of prayer was something any preaching Septon would long for. In the past, the church had called it the Holy Sound, believing that such prayer made it easier to feel the gaze of the Seven.
Yet now, this Holy Sound was echoing through an underground prison, and most of those inside were pagans from across the Narrow Sea—prisoners who, for the most part, couldn’t even understand the common tongue. And yet, here they were, chanting intricate prayers flawlessly in unison. To Septon Hullen and the others, this was nothing short of a miracle.
“Do you feel it?” Malora suddenly asked Lynd as the trio stood, awestruck, before the prison.
Lynd nodded slightly. He could see faint traces of magic drifting through the air and sensed a mysterious force, something akin to a mental influence, rippling through the dungeon. It was clear that this Holy Sound wasn’t natural—it was being shaped by some unknown force.
He didn’t enter immediately. Instead, he waited by the entrance until the chanting ceased. Only then did he signal to the silent Septons, who lacked hearing, to open the cell doors. Then, he led the others inside.
Inside the dungeon, the once-ruthless pirates were now kneeling like devout worshippers, their heads bowed in prayer. But if one looked beyond the dim flickering of the torches, past the shadows that played tricks on the eye, they would see the truth—their faces were contorted with pain, their eyes filled with terror. This was not an act of free will. Some unseen force compelled them.
The group pressed forward, stopping at an unlocked cell at the farthest end of the dungeon. Unlike the others, this one was shrouded in darkness, with no lamps burning inside. The only light came from the adjacent cells, barely illuminating the room’s interior. Through the gloom, they could just make out the silhouette of a hooded figure sitting within.
“Light the oil lamps,” Lynd instructed Qyburn.
Inside the cell, the figure stirred at Lynd’s command, as if about to protest. But in the end, they remained still.
Soon, the oil lamps were lit. Because of the occupant’s special status, four lamps had been provided, and once all were aflame, the room was fully illuminated.
Now visible before them sat a figure clad in the robe of an ascetic, their hood drawn low over their face. They remained with their back to the group, silent. And though they did not speak, the air around them was heavy with unease—an unspoken fear that all present could feel.
"Septon Joseth, turn around and lower your hood," Lynd commanded in a calm voice.
Joseth hesitated for a moment but ultimately obeyed, turning around and pulling back his hood.
Even though this wasn't the first time they had seen Joseth's current appearance, Septon Hullen and the others couldn't help but feel uneasy. They instinctively took a deep breath to suppress the urge to gasp in shock. In contrast, Malora and Qyburn remained composed. They had seen far stranger things before—sights a hundred times more grotesque than this—so their expressions remained unchanged.
Joseth, who had undergone the Trial of the Seven Gods, had not experienced the same physical transformations as the previous warriors who took the trial. His body remained the same, but his head had changed. The back of his skull was now twice the size of a normal human's, grotesquely swollen like that of a malformed child.
His hair had completely fallen out, and his scalp was crisscrossed with thick, pulsating veins that wrapped around his enlarged cranium like creeping vines, giving him an eerie, unsettling appearance.
"How do you feel now?" Lynd asked as he studied Joseth. "Do you still have sudden outbursts of rage?"
Joseth could tell that Lynd, upon seeing his appearance, showed no signs of fear or disgust—he didn't regard him as some kind of deformed monstrosity. That alone gave him a slight sense of relief. "I no longer lose control of my emotions," he said. "The necklace you gave me, my lord, is very effective."
"Do you regret your decision now?" Lynd asked directly. "You risked the Trial of the Seven Gods out of jealousy, and this is what it has left you with."
Joseth was silent for a moment before nodding. "A little," he admitted. Then, with a trace of hope in his eyes, he asked, "My lord, is there any way that you—"
"I'm sorry," Lynd interrupted, his tone frank. "Even as the Chosen of the Gods, I cannot undo the results of the trial." Without giving Joseth time to dwell on it, he changed the subject. "Was that ability just now granted to you by the trial?"
Joseth, momentarily disheartened, soon nodded with a trace of excitement in his voice. "Yes, this is a gift from the Seven. I can establish a spiritual connection with many people and lead them in prayer. The Holy Sound you heard earlier—that was my doing."
Lynd considered this for a moment. "Aside from prayer, what else can you make them do?"
Joseth remained silent before shifting his gaze to the prisoner in the opposite cell. Without warning, the man stood up, walking stiffly to the bars.
His face was expressionless, yet his eyes were filled with terror. It was clear that his actions were not his own.
Then, in a slow and deliberate motion, the prisoner raised his left hand for all to see. He opened his mouth and, without hesitation, began biting off his own fingers one by one. He chewed and swallowed each severed digit methodically, as if he felt no pain.
A collective gasp filled the dungeon.
"Release your control over him," Lynd ordered, unfazed.
Joseth obeyed immediately, severing the spiritual link.
The moment control was lifted, the prisoner let out a bloodcurdling scream and collapsed, clutching his mutilated hand. His agonized cries echoed through the dungeon, traveling up through the tunnels of the Black Cave. Those who heard it merely glanced around in confusion before returning to their tasks, uninterested in the source of the noise.
"That's enough," Lynd said, signaling Joseth to reassert control. Once the dungeon had fallen silent again, he asked, "What’s the maximum number of people you can control at once?"
Joseth thought for a moment before replying, "There are thirty-seven prisoners here now, but I don’t feel like I’ve reached my limit. I suspect I could handle over a hundred."
Lynd's gaze sharpened. "Among the people in this room, who can you control?"
The atmosphere tensed immediately. Everyone had just witnessed what happened to the prisoner—absolute control, a fate worse than death. None of them wanted to experience that.
Joseth hesitated before pointing at Septon Hullen. "I can only control Septon Hullen. No one else." He then glanced at Lynd and added, "My spirit has no influence over you at all."
Malora nodded in understanding. "So, you can only control those with weak willpower or a lack of strong faith. Those with strong conviction are beyond your reach."
Hullen's face darkened at her words. While she had only spoken the truth—and everyone present knew it—it was humiliating to have it said so openly in Lynd's presence.
Lynd, however, paid no mind to the insult. His thoughts were already on how best to utilize Joseth. His abilities were incredibly valuable—if applied correctly, they could achieve results that even an army of a hundred thousand could not.
"You have two choices," Lynd said after a moment of contemplation. "One is to return to the Miracle Sept and continue serving as Septon. You would only need to find a way to conceal your... condition."
He paused briefly before continuing. "The other is for you to join a newly established secret society within the church, one that specializes in intelligence gathering and assassinations—"
"I'll take the secret society," Joseth cut in before Lynd could finish.
His answer was immediate.
