Benerro was not the only one who knew the prophecies of "awakening the stone dragons" and the savior being born amidst "smoke and salt."
Because of those prophecies, many people had already concluded that the savior was almost certainly Viserys.
Now, however, Benerro intended to deny that conclusion.
This sermon would not be an easy one.
If he failed to provide an explanation that could convince the masses, the reputation of the temple would suffer greatly.
Before long, Benerro passed through the stone archway adorned with carvings of dragons and sphinxes and arrived at the Long Bridge.
As soon as he stepped onto the bridge, he noticed a great number of nobles.
The lesser nobles were carried on the backs of slaves. The greater nobles rode in luxurious palanquins.
In Volantis, the ratio of freemen to slaves was one to five.
The city itself was built upon the sweat and blood of slaves. Even the Temple of the Lord of Light was no exception.
Benerro maintained a vast number of slaves within the temple.
Some served the priests as attendants.
Others were trained into the temple's enforcers, the Hands of Holy Fire.
There were even slaves kept to satisfy the physical desires of the red priests. The temple merely disguised them beneath the title of "holy maidens."
Aside from not being offered to outsiders, there was little difference in practice.
Looking over the gathered nobles, Benerro felt a faint sense that something was wrong.
Yet he could not identify exactly what it was.
"Your Holiness, there seem to be quite a lot of high nobles here today."
Moqorro noticed the unusual number of palanquins.
There were at least two or three times more than usual.
The nobles were not like the common people, who had few forms of entertainment.
If indulgence and luxury could be considered an academic discipline, the aristocracy would qualify as archmaesters.
The greater the noble, the less interest they usually showed in religion.
Normally, Benerro would hardly see a single grand palanquin at one of these gatherings.
What was different today? Were they truly that interested in the matter of the savior?
The Long Bridge was packed with people. Tens of thousands of eyes were fixed upon Benerro.
Believers from every level of Volantene society had gathered here.
Nobles.
Commoners.
Even slaves who had slipped away from their masters.
Under the weight of so many expectant gazes, Benerro had no time to dwell on his unease.
The High Priest ascended a temporary platform erected by the red priests.
The crowd stretched beneath him.
Countless faces stared up in anticipation.
Steadying himself, Benerro began to speak.
"The stars have bled. The dragons have returned. The Lord of Light has chosen His savior!"
As soon as he announced that he would reveal the savior's identity, many in the crowd clenched their fists and leaned forward eagerly.
"Viserys!"
Someone suddenly shouted the name.
"Your Holiness, is it Viserys?!"
Another voice called out.
"It must be him! He awakened the stone dragons!"
"He was reborn from fire! It has to be him!"
Viserys's influence was nothing like Daenerys's had been in the original timeline.
Most of the people present had already arrived with their answer in mind.
Yet Benerro's response shattered their expectations.
"It is Viserys's sister—Daenerys Targaryen!"
A wave of uproar exploded through the crowd.
"Viserys's sister? The savior is a woman?"
No one wanted to believe it.
Had Benerro named Aegon or Aemon, the reaction would not have been nearly so severe.
"We don't need a woman to save us!"
"That's right! We don't need one!"
As the situation began slipping beyond his control, Benerro finally resorted to genuine magic.
Without warning, the platform beneath his feet burst into flames.
The nearby worshippers cried out in alarm.
A staircase of fire slowly emerged from the burning platform. Benerro stepped onto the flaming stairs and ascended higher into the air.
That single display instantly crushed much of the opposition.
It was nothing short of a miracle.
Many of the doubters fell silent. Some dropped to their knees and began praying.
Hovering above the crowd, Benerro used fire itself to write two Valyrian words in the air:
Darkness.
Destruction.
"Though summer still reigns, the Long Night and winter may arrive at any moment."
"Only the true savior can lead us through the coming catastrophe!"
Whether because he stood so high above the crowd or because of magic itself, Benerro's voice carried with tremendous force.
Far away, Gerold watched everything unfold.
In his eyes, Benerro's decision to proclaim Daenerys the savior was most likely an attempt to divide House Targaryen.
What he could not understand was the choice itself.
If Benerro truly wished to create division, Aegon or Aemon would have been far better candidates.
Why choose a girl?
Had the lesson of Rhaenyra not been enough? Still, Gerold did not concern himself with such matters.
His attention shifted toward the ships anchored near the bridge.
The water wizards sent by Viserys were aboard them.
Not only had Viserys dispatched water wizards, but he had even equipped Gerold's force with Valyrian steel arrows for this assault on R'hllor's temple.
Valyrian steel weighed far more than an equal amount of gold. Forging arrowheads from it was extravagance beyond measure.
The importance Viserys placed on Benerro could not have been clearer.
Gerold signaled to his men.
They immediately made room for the hidden longbowmen.
The archers crouched low and unwrapped longbows disguised as carrying poles.
The nobles' palanquins provided perfect cover.
Their comrades shielded them from view.
Meanwhile, Benerro continued standing atop the fiery staircase, preaching that Daenerys was the true savior.
His argument relied heavily upon her title as Stormborn. Yet compared to Viserys's resurrection, the claim lacked impact.
The crowd remained unconvinced.
Just as Benerro prepared to continue, a chill suddenly crawled up his spine.
The hidden malice carried by sharpened arrowheads had caught his attention.
'Tiger Cloaks? No... longbowmen!'
Spinning around, he finally saw them.
At some point, dozens of longbowmen had taken aim and locked onto him.
They emerged from behind the grand palanquins one after another. Arrowheads gleamed coldly in the sunlight.
Though far away in Volantis, Benerro had heard tales of the longbowmen's reputation.
The mighty Dothraki hordes had been shattered by these very bows.
'Targaryen?!'
'Why?!'
He had no time to react.
More than a hundred arrows surged toward him.
Benerro spread his arms.
A blazing shield of fire materialized before him.
Yet to his horror, several arrows ignored the flames entirely. They pierced through the fiery barrier as effortlessly as paper.
"Valyrian steel arrows?!"
Only after more than a dozen Valyrian steel shafts tore into his flesh did Benerro fully realize the truth.
This was a carefully planned ambush.
The fiery staircase beneath him immediately began to collapse.
The sudden attack sent the surrounding crowd into a panic.
Commoners fled in every direction. Chaos erupted across the bridge linking the old city and the new.
People scattered like rats.
One terrified slave carrying his master actually threw the nobleman aside and ran for his life.
Gerold calmly ordered the longbowmen to continue firing.
Benerro glanced toward both ends of the bridge.
More soldiers were advancing rapidly in his direction. And they showed no mercy to the panicked civilians standing in their way.
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