Stannis stared dead at the barefoot old man standing in front of him, and the massive, heavily dense horde of people packed behind him. His brows violently locked together in a heavy knot.
He absolutely didn't give a single flying fuck about this frail old bastard who looked like a stiff gust of wind could permanently blow him over.
"Step aside."
Stannis's voice was completely stripped of any human emotion.
Mounted atop his massive warhorse, he stared down at the High Sparrow with absolute, suffocating dominance, looking at him exactly like a pathetic ant actively blocking his path.
"This is the absolute domain of the Seven," the High Sparrow repeated, his voice entirely dead calm.
Behind him, the tens of thousands of armed zealots clutched a chaotic, makeshift arsenal of pathetic weapons. Yet, their eyes violently radiated a suffocating, deeply terrifying fanaticism.
They were terrified.
They were undeniably afraid of this heavily armored, highly lethal, sword-wielding professional army.
But they believed with absolute, psychotic certainty that the Gods were actively standing directly behind them!
"The Seven?" Stannis let out a harsh, dark laugh.
That laugh was heavily saturated with naked, unapologetic mockery and absolute disdain.
"A pathetic flock of false gods carved from mud and rotting wood actually dares to violently block the path of the one, true God?"
He aggressively ripped his heavy longsword from its scabbard, violently pointing the razor-sharp tip dead at the High Sparrow's face!
"I will say this absolutely one last time. Step aside!"
"Or I will violently use the sacred fire to permanently incinerate every single one of you, along with the pathetic rotting garbage you worship, straight to ash!"
The absolute second Stannis's soldiers heard the words "sacred fire," their eyes instantaneously, violently ignited with apocalyptic fanaticism!
They flawlessly, simultaneously thrust their heavy steel into the air, letting out an earth-shattering roar!
"FIGHT FOR THE GODS!"
"FIGHT FOR THE GODS!"
The synchronized, bloodcurdling roar of tens of thousands of elite troops was completely apocalyptic!
The unhinged smallfolk at the city gates were instantly, violently paralyzed by the suffocating murderous intent. Every drop of blood drained from their faces, and many nearly collapsed straight to their knees in sheer terror.
Yet, the High Sparrow's face remained an entirely unreadable, dead-calm mask.
He simply stared at Stannis with absolute, freezing tranquility.
"It highly appears you have made your absolute choice."
The High Sparrow heavily gripped his wooden staff and roared to the massive crowd packed behind him.
"Brothers and sisters!"
"Do you absolutely see this?!"
"This man who actively calls himself King violently intends to use demonic fire to incinerate our homes, and razor-sharp steel to permanently desecrate our Faith!"
"Do you accept this?!"
"NO!"
"ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT!"
The crowd's paralyzing terror was violently, instantaneously ignited by the High Sparrow's highly toxic words, permanently mutating into the absolute purest, most primal apocalyptic rage!
"DEFEND OUR HOME!"
"FIGHT FOR THE GODS!"
Their voices were incredibly chaotic, but their absolutely unhinged, suicidal momentum sent a violent shockwave of pure dread straight through Stannis's blood-soaked, veteran soldiers.
These people had completely lost their fucking minds!
"My Lord!"
Davos Seaworth aggressively spurred his horse to Stannis's side, his face heavily etched with profound, apocalyptic anxiety.
"We absolutely cannot attack!"
"These are the absolute smallfolk of King's Landing! If we violently butcher them here, we permanently become nothing but psychotic slaughterers! The absolute entirety of Westeros will permanently turn against us!"
Davos frantically attempted to reason with him.
But Stannis was completely, physically incapable of hearing a single syllable.
"They are absolutely nothing but a massive flock of brain-dead idiots permanently blinded by false gods."
Stannis shot a lethally cold glare at Davos.
"The absolute divine mandate of the Lord of Light is strictly, permanently irrefutable."
"Any pathetic soul who dares to violently block my path is a rotting heretic!"
"And heretics suffer only one absolute fate."
He didn't waste another fraction of a second on Davos. He violently slashed his longsword forward!
"Advance!"
"Violently crush them!"
At Stannis's absolute command, the first rank of heavily armored infantry aggressively hoisted their massive tower shields.
Flawlessly forming an impenetrable, ironclad wall of steel, they began to violently, methodically push forward!
THUD! THUD! THUD! The heavy, strictly synchronized thunder of their boots echoed exactly like the apocalyptic war drums of the grim reaper, violently slamming into everyone's chest.
"The Seven protect us!"
"The Gods are with us!"
The "Warrior's Sons" packed behind the High Sparrow aggressively raised their pathetic, rusted weapons and violently launched a suicidal charge dead straight into the towering wall of steel!
They knew perfectly well they were completely outmatched.
But they absolutely did not give a single flying fuck!
If they violently bled for the Gods, their souls would instantly ascend to absolute heaven!
BOOM! The two massive tidal waves of humanity violently, apocalyptically slammed into each other!
The highly sickening crunch of heavy steel violently pulverizing bone and tearing through flesh was completely scalp-numbing!
The absolute scrap metal wielded by the Warrior's Sons was physically incapable of inflicting a single fraction of damage upon Stannis's heavily armored infantry.
Their rusted blades violently struck the massive shields, producing nothing but pathetic, highly ineffective clangs.
Meanwhile, every single highly calculated, lethal thrust from the spears of Stannis's soldiers effortlessly, violently deleted the life of a fanatic zealot!
Thick, hot blood instantaneously, aggressively saturated the dirt in front of the city gates.
Bloodcurdling shrieks and apocalyptic wails violently erupted everywhere!
However, what genuinely sent an apocalyptic chill straight down the spines of Stannis's elite veterans was this:
These lunatics absolutely did not fear fucking death!
The exact second the man in front violently collapsed, the man behind him aggressively, instantaneously filled the gap!
They were completely, irreparably unhinged!
They violently bit with their literal teeth and aggressively slammed their own bodies into the shields!
Some zealots, in the absolute exact second a heavy spear violently impaled their chests, locked their hands in a death grip around the soldier's arm, actively sacrificing their own lives to create a lethal opening for their comrades!
A veteran Baratheon soldier violently drove his heavy spear clean through a Warrior's Son's ribcage.
Yet, right before his brain completely shut down, the fanatic used absolutely every final ounce of his dying strength to aggressively seize the wooden shaft.
The absolute next fraction of a second.
Three psychotic Faith Militants wielding heavy axes and meat cleavers violently flanked the opening, aggressively hacking the soldier straight down into the dirt, before completely pulverizing his skull into a bloody pulp with heavy wooden clubs!
The entire battlefield instantaneously mutated into a highly chaotic, apocalyptic meat grinder!
Stannis's army was impeccably equipped and heavily disciplined.
But they absolutely weren't fighting a military force!
They were violently clashing with a massive horde of apocalyptic lunatics armed to the fucking teeth with psychotic faith!
Their numbers were simply unfathomable!
They were aggressively, continuously flooding out from every single crack and alleyway of the massive city!
Stannis's elite army was exactly like a rigid, ironclad boulder—incredibly tough, but violently, permanently trapped in place by this apocalyptic tidal wave, utterly incapable of advancing a single inch!
"My Lord! We are completely bogged down!"
A heavily blood-soaked commander violently sprinted up to Stannis.
"There are absolutely too many of these peasant bastards! We physically cannot butcher them fast enough!"
Stannis stared out at the apocalyptic, blood-drenched chaos unfolding before him, his face contorting into an absolutely highly toxic, furious mask.
He had heavily calculated a million different scenarios.
He genuinely expected Lynn to have an elite, heavily armed ambush waiting. He fully anticipated an apocalyptic bloodbath.
But he absolutely, never in his wildest fucking nightmares, expected his unstoppable, massive army to be violently deadlocked by a horde of filthy smallfolk wielding rusted hoes and meat cleavers!
It was an absolute, apocalyptic humiliation!
"My Lord, we absolutely must fall back!" Davos's desperate voice echoed once again.
"If we aggressively continue this slaughter, even if we claim absolute victory, we will permanently lose the entire realm!"
Stannis didn't waste a single syllable.
He simply locked his dead, lethal gaze onto the frail old man standing safely at the rear of the mob, his face still a perfectly tranquil, unreadable mask.
The High Sparrow.
It was this exact rotting bastard!
He had personally, highly calculated this entire apocalyptic riot!
A towering, suffocating wave of pure, unadulterated bloodlust violently surged in Stannis's chest.
He aggressively raised his bare hand.
FWOOSH! A massive, violently searing orb of crimson-orange hellfire aggressively erupted to life, violently burning directly in his palm!
"Fall back!" he roared his absolute command to his troops.
The heavily exhausted soldiers reacted exactly like they had just been granted absolute divine amnesty.
They flawlessly, violently executed a tactical retreat, aggressively ripping open a massive gap between themselves and the psychotic zealots.
The smallfolk of King's Landing stared dead at the apocalyptic hellfire that had just miraculously materialized in Stannis's bare hand, every single one of them completely paralyzed by absolute terror.
Sure, they had passively heard the terrifying rumors.
But physically, actively witnessing this demonic, reality-shattering sorcery with their own two eyes sent an apocalyptic wave of dread crashing through them, permanently rooting their boots to the blood-soaked dirt.
"Do you absolutely see this?"
Stannis's voice resonated with the suffocating, lethal weight of a literal demon crawling straight out of hell.
"This is the absolute, undeniable power of God!"
"Right now, violently drop to your fucking knees!"
"Offer your absolute, permanent fealty to me, your one true King!"
"Otherwise, your absolutely only remaining fate is to be permanently, completely purified by the sacred fire!"
His voice was completely saturated with absolute, ironclad, irrefutable authority.
However.
SPIT! The High Sparrow aggressively hawked a thick wad of spit directly onto the dirt in Stannis's direction.
"You demonic, rotting heretic!"
He violently raised his heavy wooden staff, pointing it dead at Stannis.
"The absolute, holy radiance of the Seven will violently purge your heavily corrupted soul!"
"Brothers! Show absolutely zero fear!"
"He is nothing but a pathetic, rotting demon playing with cheap parlor tricks!"
"The Gods are completely with us!"
"FIGHT FOR THE GODS!"
"FIGHT FOR THE GODS!"
The apocalyptic momentum of the massive mob was instantaneously, violently reignited!
Stannis was apocalyptically, completely furious.
He stared dead at that impenetrable, unhinged old fraud, the muscles in his face violently twitching and heavily contorting with pure, unadulterated rage.
He genuinely, absolutely wanted to unleash a massive tidal wave of hellfire and permanently incinerate every single one of these bastards to ash!
But his highly calculated, ironclad logic aggressively slammed the brakes.
He absolutely could not afford to violently out himself as a psychotic butcher in front of the entire population of King's Landing.
"Excellent."
Stannis smoothly, methodically extinguished the hellfire in his palm.
"You have actively, permanently chosen absolute death."
"However, I will graciously grant you exactly three days to heavily consider your absolute fate."
"Otherwise, my Knights of the Sacred Fire will violently, permanently level this entire city to the ground!"
"Remember this: my absolute patience is incredibly limited!"
He aggressively ripped the reins, turning his massive warhorse around without dedicating a single fractional glance back to the zealots.
"Relay my absolute command."
"The entire army will violently fall back and establish a heavy encampment."
"Yes, My Lord!"
Though highly confused, his commanders flawlessly, instantaneously executed the absolute order.
Stannis's apocalyptic army began a heavily disciplined, methodical retreat.
Watching the elite forces actively pull back, the smallfolk of King's Landing violently erupted into earth-shattering, apocalyptic cheers!
They had actually won!
Relying strictly on their own absolute power, they had violently repelled the massive army of heretics!
The High Sparrow stared dead at Stannis's retreating back, a deeply grave, highly calculated shadow violently flashing through his cloudy eyes.
He knew perfectly well that this apocalyptic conflict was absolutely nowhere near finished.
Meanwhile, three miles outside the city, Stannis stood aggressively in front of his massive command tent.
He stared dead at the brilliantly lit skyline of King's Landing, a highly toxic, absolutely ruthless smirk violently hooking the corner of his mouth.
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