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Robert is a badass who treats killing gods and slaying demons like just another Thursday. Did you know it was inspired by Thairon, the protagonist of my original story, Arrival : Ruptures, long before I began to write it? Comments, likes and reviews are appreciated. Here are the links for : AO3, Spacebattles, Royal Road and Webnovel.
—
Asgard
291 AC
He leaned back on his chair, bored.
Everything has been peaceful during the last year. Slavery was mostly gone, trade was thriving, and no one dared to make an issue out of respect and fear of him. He was earning so much gold, he considered building a canal in the neck just to have a place to spend it.
Since it would make North one of the richest regions, he was reserved on the matter.
"You're going to be maybe the one that lifts me, lady.
You're going to be maybe the one that fits me, lady.
You're going to be maybe the one that kissed me, lady.
You're going to be, maybe my dreams come true," he muttered to himself, changing the parts that would be problematic in Westeros.
Singing songs, sparring with Sandor and Wun Weg while teaching his guards how to use the powers he had granted them.
He smiled at the memory.
He worked to master his powers in every spare second he had. He could summon small-scale storms, fire lightning bolts large enough to smite a dozen men to ash, create flaming tornados, and of course, hit so hard he would split the ground open.
Yet there was nothing to use these powers on.
It made him seek a way to see if he could grant powers to the others, like R'hllor had done to his priests. Sandor was his first volunteer, though he still shied away from fire.
He raised his left hand, clenching and unclenching. The raw edge had faded away, leaving behind a smooth skin. The mark on his palm, a skull with an open jaw and two thunderbolts crossed behind it, gave Sandor a smaller degree of control over lightning.
By his standards anyway.
Sandor had become something beyond a human. He could now easily spar with giants, his strength easily matching theirs. He had also become terrifyingly fast when covered by lightning.
His only match in the field, aside from Robert, was Wun Weg.
Another mark, this one a flaming hammer, glowed faintly on Godbreaker's hilt.
A ten-foot giant, donning Valyrian steel plate armor with chainmail inside and carrying a hammer as large as himself, whose each earth-shattering strike would release pulses of scorching hot flames, was an equally terrifying prospect.
Things were going so well, he was bored out of his mind.
He slouched on his chair, listening to the latest reports, unaware there was a scheme brewing against him.
—
"My lord!" A familiar voice screamed, barging into his solar.
"What?" he asked, putting his feet down.
Davos closed the door, trying to catch his breath. "Leaf and several other Children of the Forest are kidnapped. We found a ransom letter demanding half a million gold or the kidnappers would kill them."
"Who the fuck is that dumb?" he asked, equally angry and curious.
"We don't know."
"For fuck's sake," he grumbled. "Get Sandor and Wun Weg. Also send someone to bring the boys out."
"Already done, my lord."
"Where do they want the ransom?" he asked, wondering where he would bury those fuckers alive.
"Right at the border with House Wendwater, my lord."
"Great, it's close by at least. One last thing, find out how exactly someone managed to kidnap them under our noses."
—
Sandor rode with him, while Ra took Wun Weg. Slifer tended to become grumpy when someone other than Robert was on his back, and Sandor did not want to be on the dragon's bad side.
The border with Wendwater was close, but something was off. No one, not unless they had lost all sanity, would try to blackmail him like this. For half a million gold dragons, no less.
This was a trap.
He grinned, urging Obelisk forward.
—
He could see a group hiding around a clearing in the forest extending to both sides of the border. He prepared to jump into the clearing, but a flash beneath caught his eye. A white circle, the kind you would find in D&D, appeared out of nowhere. It glowed with an eerie light, and he felt an unnatural weight grip him. It slowed him and the dragons down to a snail's pace.
He forced himself to turn around, seeing Slifer as the closest one to the edge of the barrier.
He thrust his hand forward, creating violent winds that pushed the dragon out before the light engulfed them. When it disappeared, there was no sign of Robert, his men, or his dragons.
—
"Yes!" Rhaegar screamed, moving out of the cover of the trees.
"He is gone. He and his damn men and damn dragons are all gone!" he screamed to the heavens, dancing and laughing like a madman.
From behind the trees, more men came out. Jon Connington, Richard Lonmouth, and the members of the Kingsguard stood around their king, still unable to believe what they had seen. Robert Baratheon and his dragons were gone, sent away by the magic the king had discovered at Dragonstone.
They were so stunned none of them reacted when their captives ran off to the forest.
"Your Grace, the Children!" Richard called out, pulling his sword to run after the small creatures.
"Leave them be. Without Robert and his dragons, the only danger we have left to face is Rhaelle and her dragon," Rhaegar shouted, cackling at the end.
"Not quite," a voice growled.
Slifer, the red, foul-tempered son of Robert Baratheon, dropped out of the sky, snarling.
"Oh," Rhaegar said, his shoulders slumping forward.
They were so fucking dead.
—
The first thing Robert noticed was that they were in free fall.
"Obelisk, Ra, catch them!" he ordered, seeing Sandor and Wun Weg falling. They wouldn't survive a fall like this, unlike him. The dragons roared, diving after the human and the giant.
The first thing he saw once beneath the clouds was a city. One that he was quickly approaching. Well-organized, orange tiles covered the roofs and right at the edge of the sea; he did recognize the city and the surrounding area.
From a great world of fiction.
He didn't have much time to ponder. He summoned winds to slow down his fall. He still hit the ground hard enough to leave a small crater, blacking out for a moment.
—
The guards approached the hole, halberds out. Whatever that was seemed to be the work of a mage.
"Stand ready, you cowards. We killed dozens of freaks already," the sergeant screamed. Still, an unnatural fear gripped his heart, just like his men. There were cracks coming from the hole, but the dust cloud made it difficult to see what was inside.
He stepped out of the dust, eight feet tall, one eye bearing flames and the other, lightning. He looked like a human, one that exuded an aura that screamed danger. Nothing else could be seen in his pitch black plate armor with wavy patterns.
One of the men struck with the hammer side of a halberd, acting out in terror. The weapon hit the men on the chest, not even leaving a scratch.
Only the sound of the wind ruffling the scaly plume at the top of the man's helmet could be heard.
He snorted.
None of them saw the kick that sent the poor fellow through the wall of a shop.
"Kill the freak," the sergeant screamed. He wasn't aware of what he just said as the terror gripping his heart grew.
The freak chuckled.
He reached to his back, pulling out a crystal sword that seemed to be alive with flames. They did not see the slash that bisected five men either.
—
He was in Novigrad, one of the cities in the Witcher world, and it felt awesome. The celebrations would have to wait until he dealt with the situation at hand. Mainly the Church of Eternal Flame and all the mage-hunting bullshit.
Sandor and Wun Weg dropped to his sides.
"Orders, my lord?" Sandor asked, watching the fleeing smallfolk and the
He glanced at the stake where a still smoldering corpse was tied to, with a priest next to it on his ass.
"Kill the guards, spare those that surrender," he said. They would be necessary to keep order in the city once there was a change in command.
"No mercy for the priests," he ordered. His eyes flashed, turning the priest into human-shaped ash, one that crumbled with the wind.
All hell broke loose.
—
His first target was the Great Temple of the Eternal Fire. They liked burning people. With Radovid's orders, he would bring the flames of retribution on them.
His dragons were just providing air support on a small scale. Anything large, they would set the city on fire for.
"My lord, where are we going?"
"The temple over there leads these burnings for the Eternal Flame," he said, already creating a plausible explanation for how he knew that.
"Shit," Sandor cursed. Last time someone with a fondness for burning people crossed Robert, a god was slain, and one of the oldest cities in the world with over a million souls was sent to oblivion.
The priests of the Eternal Flame were dead.
Robert reached the bridge, which led to the temple. A contingent of guards stood before them, creating a line to protect the bridge. Obelisk swooped down, releasing flames that were mere embers compared to his full might.
The soldiers could not even scream as the air in their lungs burned.
The trio stomped through the ashes, growling. The soldiers at the top were firing crossbow bolts and arrows, which uselessly pinged off their armors. Rather than bother with the door, all three leaped up.
Sandor landed on the left side of the wall above the gate, lightning spreading to cover his body.
Time slowed down for him.
He decapitated a crossbowman, reaching the one behind him before the first one's head fell on the ground. His strike broke through the steel plate from one shoulder to the waist, bisecting the bastard into three parts. Even as he moved forward, he could see the light in the man's eyes fade slowly.
Wun Weg growled, having crashed through the wall. There were plenty of soldiers on the ground as well, and as ordered, he did not show mercy. He leaped again, bringing his massive, two-sided hammer on the ground.
The stone ground where he hit was pulverized.
A circular wall of flame spread out with the shockwave. The force crushed the humans inside their armor while the fire left behind half-burned bodies. He stomped forward, roaring. A right swipe sent three humans flying away, each one dead on impact.
He brought the hammer down on another lone human. There was a crunch and a splatter as the man was crushed from head down to his legs, only leaving the arms intact.
Robert extended the sword to thrice its length, each swing slashing multiple men to half.
A swing to the right decapitated three of them, and a swing to the left turned half a dozen to ashes. Already hundreds lay dead, and it broke their morale.
The soldiers ran.
Sandor was on his right side in a heartbeat.
Wun Weg came lumbering, muttering about sticky humans.
"To the temple," he ordered. The tall, ugly building was grating on his nerves.
The civilians had already run away, and the dragons were screening the fleeing men. Of course this mess wouldn't be over just with the deaths of the Hierarch and the priests. There were Dijkstra and his men, Whoreson Junior, and Radovid.
He appeared furious on the outside, but in his heart, he wanted to jump up and down in joy. He didn't know who was responsible for that trap. However, he would be sure to thank them for this opportunity.
Right before killing them if Slifer hadn't already done so.
He stood before the temple, considering what to do. He could certainly burn it but wanted something more poetic. An idea came when the salty smell of the sea breeze tickled his nose.
What better way to spite them than to cast the Temple of the Eternal Fire in water?
First, he had to get all the loot inside, though. The temple received constant donations, and it would definitely be useful.
—
The citizens of Novigrad saw the temple from all corners of the city at all times. It was the tallest building in the city, its spire dominating the sky. Citizens, huddled in their homes in fear of the sudden invaders that arrived with dragons, prayed for safety.
When they saw the temple rise to the sky, the people believed their salvation was at hand.
When the temple flew and crashed into the sea, the people had one of three reactions: silent disbelief that turned them mute, fainting on the spot, or fits of mad laughter accompanied by believing that the end times were near.
The enormous temple flew off, flipping in the sky. The priests inside, along with the Hierarch, were already dead as the forces involved crushed them to a pulp.
It crashed into the sea, sinking, creating a wave that reached the harbor.
—
Robert dusted his hands, walking away from the hole where the temple used to be. He would have to take over a place as his new residence as the provisional ruler of the city and find a way back home. He had no idea how he came into the Witcher world of all places.
The days he had spent playing this game, and here he was, literally a part of the world. He was not confined by the narrative, and he had the power to do whatever the heck he wanted.
This was going to be so fucking fun.
—
"What?! What the bloody hell do you mean the temple is gone?" Dijkstra asked, feeling his knee flare in pain.
"The invader, he, he ripped the building out of the ground with his bare hands and threw it to the sea," the soldier, one of their agents in the army, stuttered out. He fell face-first to the ground, laughing until his throat went hoarse.
"Is this true?" he asked Francis, who had quite the strained look on his face. Which never boded well for anyone. The King of Beggars merely nodded, confirming the soldier's words. They had all taken refuge in the bathhouse, waiting for news, and what had arrived terrified them.
"Fucking hell," Dijkstra cursed, throwing a vase to the wall. "I was busy for half an hour, and my city's gone to shit."
"That is not all, I am afraid," the rugged, self-proclaimed king said, lowering his head.
"What?" Dijkstra exploded. What else could there be other than a fucking monster throwing buildings around like toys?
"The invader, he has two dragons under his commands," he said, having seen the gold and blue beasts patrol the skies, occasionally striking down on the soldiers.
He gritted his teeth, straining to reach down his knee over his gut. "First my vault gets robbed, and now there are men riding dragons?"
"Yes."
Dijkstra sunk into the hot bath. The pain in his knee subsided, but the one developing in his head only got worse.
—
Notes: And we have a lightning intro into the Witcher world, just days before Geralt reaches Novigrad. I wanted to write an interlude, but I found nothing else to write after a thousand-word-long summary of Asgard's development in general. Instead, I chose to spread it between chapters to keep you engaged.
As for whether I made Robert travel between the worlds or not, we'll see next week. Stay safe and in good health.
—
In the next chapter:
"Citizens of Novigrad!" Robert shouted, standing atop Obelisk's head.
He could hear a pin drop among the crowd.
After dousing the Temple of the Eternal Fire in seawater, the remaining guards had fallen in line. He was quick to summon the citizens for an announcement the next day. Under the threat of two dragons patrolling the skies, they gathered in the city square.
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