"Mortals, you dare profane the true god and defy destiny itself. You shall all die!"
From the void, R'hllor's voice thundered like a bolt of lightning exploding beside their ears, splitting Daenerys's soul into seven or eight fragments.
Yet, just like back in the apple grove of Crown Town, when her twin dragon souls tore Brynden's spirit into countless pieces and even burned it to ash, the Three-Eyed Raven had swiftly recovered each time.
The soul of a greenseer cannot be destroyed.
That thought quickly reformed within Daenerys's fragmented mind. Beside her, Brynden's spirit also gathered back into shape.
"When you hesitate instead of cutting cleanly, chaos follows. The best outcome is to destroy Him."
"Then use your full power," Brynden urged.
"You bastard. You've been lying to me from the start. One day, I swear I'll strike you from the Targaryen bloodline," Daenerys growled.
At this moment, Brynden was no longer the Three-Eyed Raven, and he still cared deeply about his identity as a "noble bastard." Hearing Daenerys threaten to erase him from the family lineage immediately soured his mood.
"When did I ever lie to you?" he frowned. "This fragment of the soul truly is the destiny of Azor Ahai.
The process of fusing Jon with R'hllor's remnant soul—that is the so-called rebirth of Azor Ahai.
No one becomes a savior merely by birthright.
To gain something, one must also lose something.
In life, Jon accepted R'hllor's power and enjoyed the honor of being the chosen one. In death, he must return that destiny to R'hllor.
It's like a loan—one must always repay. That is the price he owes."
"Then let R'hllor seize Jon's body. You said it yourself—that's the cost of being a savior," Daenerys sneered.
"If you wish to submit to fate, I will leave immediately.
But by now, you should understand—it's not Jon who covets your gifts and bloodline power.
He is merely the debtor. The true creditor is R'hllor."
"If you defy destiny, then R'hllor will inevitably become your enemy. That is why I agreed with Bran to set this in motion.
Both Bran and I have temporarily abandoned our duties as greenseers, each for our own bonds. Bran did it for Jon. I did it for you.
And yet you refused to see my good intentions, thinking I sought to harm you.
Ask yourself—if I truly betrayed you, Jon might gain something, but what would I gain?"
"Sigh… You really are the old politician who served as Hand of the King for thirty years," Daenerys sighed helplessly.
She was convinced—not because of her bond with the wights, but because R'hllor truly seemed to be plotting against her.
She was certain that even if Brynden's plan succeeded, though the outcome might favor her, the one to benefit the most would not be her.
"We'll work together. You'll use the greenseer's will to scatter His soul, and I'll burn the fragments to ash."
"Agreed."
Brynden answered and transformed into a massive black raven, shooting like a sword into the crimson mist.
Every particle within that soul-mist glowed bright red like miniature suns, radiating endless light and heat.
The blazing red soul-mist resembled a galaxy formed of countless stars.
The enormous raven became a black arrow, piercing the galactic expanse like a nuclear blast suddenly erupting.
The explosion was soundless yet deafening. The galactic mist burst apart like fireworks—countless stars dimmed, shattered, and went dark.
"Greenseer!" R'hllor's voice roared with boundless fury.
A thunderous boom followed.
The fire dragon rose again, its flames fiercer than ever.
This time, Drogon's scales, blessed by the Smith's divine essence, gleamed a brilliant enamel red.
This time, Daenerys entered the Song of Wind state and invoked the Fivefold Dragon Soul.
"Chh!"
She unleashed a Soul-Extinguishing Strike first, then fanned the flames with the power of wind. The fire dragon ballooned like an inflated sphere, expanding a thousandfold until it filled Jon's entire sea of consciousness.
Jon's mind became a furnace, blazing furiously.
"Crackle, pop…" Each "sun" exploded within the flames, then vanished amid the dissolution of spirit.
"Mother of Dragons," R'hllor hissed with venom. "Very well. You dare join forces to defy fate itself? I will remember—"
"Too—much—nonsense!"
The Fivefold Dragon Soul struck nine times in succession, silencing R'hllor completely.
A torrential downpour of spiritual essence cascaded into Daenerys's mind. She dared not delay—together with Drogon's soul, she opened the Seven's channel of faith, directing all the essence into the Pool of Faith.
She suspected that among the essence lay the Song of Law, though neither she nor her dragon could absorb it.
If left alone, those divine songs would evaporate, but the Pool of Faith could preserve them.
And she was right.
The "Destiny of Azor Ahai" was an ability and inheritance to fulfill fate itself, though it contained little actual essence.
Even the Crab King had more raw spirit than this, yet its divinity far surpassed that of both the Crab King and the Bladescale combined.
Within it were two radiant clusters of divine law—one dim gray, one brilliant white.
The Song of the Sun, and the Song of Shadows.
"You made a vow. A sacred one."
As the winds faded and the fire died, Jon's sea of consciousness grew calm once more. Brynden stared intently at Daenerys and reminded her, "You swore that once you obtained the weirwood seed paste, Azor Ahai's destiny would pass to Jon."
"You!" Daenerys jabbed her finger at him furiously. "And you claim you did this for me! If it were really for me, you'd have conveniently forgotten that damned oath by now!"
"When I said it was for you, I didn't mean you as a person. Honestly, I don't even like you that much.
I did it because you're a Targaryen.
But Jon is also a Targaryen—and like me, a bastard. So I actually like him more." Brynden glared at her, speaking with open irritation.
Dany almost lost her temper. She wanted nothing more than to seize the moment and incinerate both Jon and Brynden.
"I could give it to him—but does he even dare accept it?"
She poured the essence of the Faith's spiritual rain directly into Jon's sea of consciousness.
A vast, multicolored stream of starlight surged forth.
"Your talent is truly enviable," Brynden said, his expression complicated. Then he opened his mouth wide like a whale swallowing water and absorbed all the spiritual essence into his body.
Dany's expression changed as she lost all sense of those essences.
"In terms of mastery over the power of souls, even a true god cannot surpass a single greenseer—let alone us, the collective will of millions of greenseers accumulated over countless ages."
Brynden's tone was calm as he exhaled a stream of bright green liquid.
The verdant current flowed ceaselessly, merging into Jon's pale-gray soul.
Jon's soul and warg abilities began to grow.
"What is that?" Dany asked in shock and suspicion.
Feeling triumphant, Brynden smiled and explained, "This is the Fountain of Green.
"To an ordinary person, it can awaken the gifts of a warg, a dreamer, or a greenseer.
"There are two kinds of Green Fountains—innate and artificial. The natural ones come from the Mother River and determine a person's gifts. My artificial Green Fountain can only elevate those gifts to their utmost limit.
"Without the greenseer's gift, even if one drinks endless artificial fountains, it would do no good.
"The reason you became a greenseer yourself was because you stole the natural fountain from my soul, was it not?"
"You've gotten what you wanted. Our deal is finished," Dany said coldly.
"It isn't," Brynden replied. "Dany, you must understand—nothing in Westeros can escape a greenseer's sight. Not even the true god, R'hllor." His eyes blazed as he stared at her.
Dany gave a bitter smile and drew out half of her divinity.
"Not enough," Brynden said, waving his hand. The divinity merged seamlessly into Jon's soul, as though it had always belonged to him.
Dany reluctantly took out another half.
"You deceived me. There should be some compensation," she said, glaring at him.
Brynden considered for a moment, then said, "Keep the Song of the Sun. Give the rest to Jon.
"The divinity of death and shadow is mere nourishment for you, but for Jon, it serves as completion."
"Completion of what?" Dany asked, confused.
"Hand it over first. I fear if I tell you the truth now, you'll start causing trouble again," Brynden replied.
After a moment's hesitation, Dany handed over the last quarter of her divinity.
"To complete the Holy Spirit."
As the final trace of divinity merged in, Jon's soul radiated an aura of wholeness and perfection.
"Jon… has become a Holy Spirit too?" Dany asked in disbelief.
"Only Jon combined with Azor Ahai forms the true 'Reincarnated Savior.'
"Only a Holy Spirit capable of weaving the Song of Law has meaning before R'hllor," Brynden said.
"What a clever scheme!" Dany remarked, tossing the Song of Shadow away.
Before the infinite pressure of divine law could even spread, the Song of Shadow swiftly fused into Jon's soul—as naturally as a fledgling returning to its nest, as though it had always belonged to him.
Letting go of her greed and envy, Dany returned to her usual detached amusement and sneered. "You've gained endless benefits today. Let's see how you handle it in the end. The true god's gifts are never so easily taken."
Brynden shook his head, sighing. "Why are you so hostile toward Jon?
"All he has now is the chance to defy fate.
"If he cannot defeat R'hllor, one day he will fall into the realm of death, and everything will return to R'hllor's domain.
"You are the only one who can help him. You are his aunt. You should stand together, unite, and create glory side by side."
"Spare me the nonsense. You tricked me this time, and I've now made an enemy of R'hllor for nothing.
"Jon's the one who gained the most from this.
"It's rare enough that I can stay calm about it. Don't expect me to be heartless and give him everything," Dany said coldly.
Whoosh!
Brynden let out a long sigh and vanished. A powerful force expelled Dany, returning her to her own body.
"Oh, gods…"
"By the Seven!"
"My Lord—glory to the Lord of Light!"
The courtyard erupted with cries of awe. Wildlings and Night's Watchmen shouted in shock, while the followers of the Red God cheered in ecstasy.
Because Jon, who had been dead for five days, was alive again.
As the nine wildling captives ceased breathing in the flames, Melisandre completed the sacrifice, stepped to the altar, and kissed Jon lightly on the lips.
Before everyone's eyes, his pale body flushed with color. The stitches along his wounds came undone, and the gashes closed on their own. White steam began to rise from his nose.
He was breathing. He was alive.
"This is a miracle! The Red God has manifested! His power is so great that even the dead may live again," said Mance Rayder, pale and dazed.
And not just him—everyone who witnessed Jon's resurrection but did not worship the Red God felt both awe and despair, for their own gods had never performed such a miracle.
Thud! Bowen Marsh suddenly dropped to his knees, his plump, pomegranate-red face twisting as he cried out in hysteria, "I am guilty! Guilty! The Lord Commander lives—he is the Prince That Was Promised! I killed the Prince That Was Promised! I am guilty!"
Thud, thud. One by one, every Night's Watchman who had taken part in Jon's assassination fell to their knees facing the altar.
Their faces were pale, their spirits broken.
"Whether you are guilty or not, ask the Lord Commander," Dany said coolly, glancing at Bowen.
"Cough… urgh!" Jon doubled over the wooden altar, vomiting violently. The stench of rot and acid filled the courtyard.
The man had come back to life, but the food in his stomach and intestines had not. Half-digested and frozen, it had decayed within him.
Warm guts, cold rotting food—just the slightest movement made him retch uncontrollably.
After a long while, Jon wiped his mouth, his expression complex as he looked over the kneeling black-clad brothers and declared,"I am no longer of the Night's Watch. Jon Snow is dead. The oath of the Watch ends with him. From this day forth, I am Jon Stark of Winterfell."
(End of Chapter)
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