"Open the gates!" Gendry shouted, his voice as sharp as steel.
"Open the gates!" Anguy the Archer echoed, his red hair blazing like a flame beneath the morning sun.
The Mud Gate of King's Landing slowly opened.
The golden battle standard in Anguy's hand fluttered in the wind as a large contingent of iron-clad cavalry rode through the gate. They wore black armor and yellow cloaks, their horses' hooves striking the ground with a heavy, rhythmic beat.
Gendry's squires each led a troop.
Anguy commanded the mounted archers and the Kingsguard. Roose Bolton led the Crownlands forces, most of whom came from the Claw Peninsula. Gude Morrigen commanded the Stormlander troops, while Dumb Harry and Robar led the Vale forces.
Timmy's wildlings had left a rather terrible impression on the people of King's Landing, so Gendry had decided not to let them enter the city.
Jon Snow would have accompanied him as well, but Eddard had taken Jon to welcome the Riverlands families and their lords.
"To the Great Sept of Baelor," Gendry ordered.
The High Sparrow had placed the remains of the monks and other supposed holy men in front of the Great Sept of Baelor. Gendry intended to meet the man himself.
"Yes, Your Grace," Anguy replied.
The soldiers moved forward like an iron tide.
The children of King's Landing ran alongside the procession, their faces filled with excitement. They imitated the soldiers' long strides, puffing out their chests and holding their heads high.
Their sisters leaned out of windows, laughing and blowing kisses toward the passing soldiers.
With the return of grain and peace, King's Landing had changed considerably.
The Lannisters had truly made a mess of the city, but under the rain and morning dew, the people of King's Landing were gradually becoming gentle and peaceful again.
"Long live the Storm!"
"Long live King Gendry!"
The knights and infantry marched up Visenya's Hill amid the cheers of the crowd.
When they reached the Great Sept of Baelor, the people gathered in front of the massive white structure instinctively parted to make way for the king.
Even the famously curious citizens of King's Landing were much quieter than usual.
They understood the difference between ordinary soldiers and true power.
After all, the High Sparrow's Beggars' Brotherhood had already caused a great disturbance by pushing a cart filled with skeletons into the square of the Great Sept of Baelor and loudly demanding the King's protection.
No matter how one looked at it, the Beggars' Brotherhood seemed to be deliberately provoking trouble.
Yet the corrupt and decadent High Septons inside the Great Sept did not dare confront the Sparrows directly.
Gendry raised his head.
"The blood and sweat of the people…"
The seven slender towers of the Great Sept rose majestically into the sky.
On the white marble square, the High Sparrow and his followers were particularly conspicuous.
The Faith of the Seven was still the dominant religion in Westeros, and the Seven Gods were deeply revered by countless people.
As Gendry arrived, the High Septon hurried out of the Great Sept with several High Septons.
The difference between the two groups was immediately obvious.
The High Septons wore luxurious robes and expensive ornaments, while the Sparrows were dressed in rags and looked as though they had barely enough to survive.
Several of the High Sparrow's supporters gathered around him and constructed a makeshift pulpit from broken pieces of wood.
At the foot of King Baelor's statue, countless bones and skulls had been piled together.
The members of the Beggars' Brotherhood claimed that these were the holy remains of people who had died for their faith.
Filthy and disheveled men led the group.
They had long, unkempt beards and wore coarse robes. Some were barefoot, while others wore nothing more than worn-out sandals.
There were even women and children among them, their eyes filled with a strange mixture of devotion and fanaticism.
"There aren't many of them," Gendry quietly observed.
Most of the Sparrows had come from the devastated Riverlands, with some coming from the Crownlands.
Although Gendry had turned the tide of the war and the ravaged lands were slowly beginning to recover, some people had been left with nothing.
Their suffering had turned them toward the Faith.
Gendry's eyes moved toward several warriors standing near the High Sparrow.
A seven-pointed star had been carved into each of their chests.
"The Seven-Pointed Star…"
It was the symbol of the Andals.
When the Andals had crossed the Narrow Sea and invaded the lands of the First Men, their warriors had carried the symbol of the Seven-Pointed Star with them.
"Greetings, Your Highness."
The High Sparrow quickly knelt and bowed.
The members of the Beggars' Brotherhood also became nervous.
The King.
The notorious Storm had arrived.
It was only natural for them to feel intimidated.
However, the High Sparrow remained composed, and his calmness gave his followers courage.
The High Sparrow had a lean, angular face and a short grayish-brown beard. His sparse hair was combed backward and tied into a small knot.
His bare feet were dark, rough, and hardened like the roots of an old tree.
He was the very embodiment of simplicity.
He wore nothing but tattered robes covered in patches, and there was not a single ornament on his body.
"What is your name, monk?" Gendry asked.
Gendry admired the High Sparrow's ascetic lifestyle, but he could not agree with the man's desire to transform Westeros into a religious kingdom.
"A monk should have no name," the High Sparrow answered calmly. "A monk dedicates his entire existence to the Seven Gods. Sparrows are the most common and humble of birds. We are also the most common and humble of people."
He lowered his head.
"I am simply a Sparrow."
"Peace is returning to the Seven Kingdoms," Gendry said. "I promise to protect all of you."
"The Mother loves everyone, Your Highness."
The High Sparrow pointed toward the pile of bones.
"These bones belong to saints who devoted themselves to the gods. They were killed because of their faith, yet they never abandoned their devotion to the Seven."
"Some starved to death. Some were tortured. The holy places were plundered. Virgins and mothers inside the septs were violated by men who blasphemed against the gods and worshipped demons. Even the Silent Sisters were harassed."
His voice remained calm, but there was an unmistakable conviction behind his words.
"The Church must also be protected."
He looked directly at Gendry.
"I ask that you urge the knights to understand the importance of piety, so that those who faithfully serve the Seven may be protected."
The High Sparrow's words were carefully chosen.
He did not directly demand that the knights abandon their lords and serve the Faith.
But the implication was obvious.
The High Septon and the other High Septons were terrified.
This country monk dared to say such things in front of the future king.
It was practically suicide.
"Protection for the Church?" one High Septon finally shouted.
He wore a robe decorated with silver thread.
"Monk, you are nothing more than a country priest. How dare you speak such nonsense before His Highness?"
"Sparrows understand faith better than you Nightingales," a burly warrior with a Seven-Pointed Star carved into his chest retorted.
"You are nothing but hypocrites."
Several other Sparrows raised their clubs.
The High Septons immediately fell silent.
These men were good at eating, drinking, and enjoying the wealth of the Great Sept.
But when it came to confronting the fanatical Sparrows, none of them dared step forward.
"The Church does not need to be armed," Gendry said calmly.
"The monk has my protection. The Iron Throne will protect him. He is safe."
He paused.
"As for the members of the Beggars' Brotherhood, I will arrange grain for them."
"We do not need your grain."
A young warrior stepped forward.
"I am already homeless. I am willing to devote my body and soul to the Seven Gods."
A cold killing intent flashed through Gendry's heart.
The Sparrows were unwilling to obey even the King and the High Septon.
That was unusual.
The High Sparrow looked at Gendry with a trace of regret.
"Your Highness, you are the embodiment of many of the Seven Gods' virtues. You are the blacksmith. You are a warrior. And you will soon be King."
"You should answer the call of the Seven Gods."
"A warrior should not only obey the secular throne. He should also protect the holy Church."
"How dare you!"
The High Septon exploded in anger.
"Your words border on treason!"
Gendry raised his hand.
The shouting immediately stopped.
His beautiful blue eyes settled on the High Sparrow.
This was his final chance.
"It was the Lannisters who plunged the realm into chaos," Gendry said. "Are you willing to lead your people into war against the Westerlands?"
The High Sparrow was silent for a moment.
Then he answered.
"The Lannisters are suspected of treason, adultery, and blasphemy. They deserve punishment."
"But there are also countless poor brothers and sisters in King's Landing."
"I have not yet delivered the holy message to them. I have not yet recited the Seven-Pointed Star Scripture for them. I have not found enough grain for them, nor have I relieved their suffering."
He lowered his eyes.
"I have heard the call of the Seven Gods."
"They have told me to remain here."
"If the Seven Gods issue another decree, I will march to the Westerlands."
Gendry understood.
The High Sparrow had chosen the gods over the King.
Gendry suddenly laughed.
"May the old gods and the new protect us all."
"Your Highness, do not forget the people."
The High Sparrow's voice became solemn.
"I thank you for temporarily ending the war, but most of my Sparrows are already homeless."
"Suffering is everywhere."
"Death and sorrow can be found everywhere."
He paused.
"Only the Seven Gods…"
Before coming to King's Landing, the High Sparrow had been responsible for fifty or sixty small villages.
They were too small to have their own priests, so he had traveled from village to village.
He had presided over weddings, heard confessions, absolved sins, and even named children.
"Now, all those villages are gone."
"Where beautiful gardens once bloomed, only weeds and thorns remain."
"Scattered bones lie along the roads."
Gendry listened quietly.
"I will remember," he finally said.
He turned his horse and rode away.
Their paths had diverged.
The High Sparrow refused to leave King's Landing because he could not bring himself to abandon the thousands of refugees who depended upon him.
He had chosen the gods.
Gendry had chosen the kingdom.
The High Sparrow watched the king's retreating figure.
"I thought he was different…"
Such a good knight.
Such a man of humble origins.
Yet he was unwilling to immerse himself in the glory of the Seven Gods.
For some reason, the High Sparrow felt a faint pressure in his heart.
"You fool! You have offended the King!"
The High Septons angrily cursed him.
"You are the fools."
The High Sparrow's followers immediately rolled up their sleeves.
A heated argument broke out between the two sides before they eventually separated.
But the bones remained where they were.
Untouched.
Night descended over King's Landing like flowing water.
---
Archbishop Olidor, disguised and moving cautiously, secretly made his way to Gendry's camp.
"The High Sparrow frightens me, Your Highness," Olidor said as he knelt.
"Look at the things he said today. This is the Great Sept, and some of the faithful genuinely believe him."
"They even brought the bones of monks and nuns and displayed them in front of the Great Sept of Baelor. They came with such force that…"
"He really believes he is a saint, doesn't he?" Gendry scoffed.
"I know what he wants."
"The High Sparrow wants to preach everywhere. He wants to warn people that those who reject the gods or worship demons will eventually face an apocalypse."
"One could say that, Your Highness."
Olidor lowered his head.
"His followers may be few, but their loyalty is frightening. These ascetics are extremely skilled at influencing the hearts of ordinary people."
Men like Olidor, who had grown up surrounded by wealth and comfort, could never match the Sparrows in stubbornness or fanaticism.
"Do you know why I chose you?" Gendry asked.
Olidor hesitated.
"My eyesight is good, Your Highness."
He quickly added,
"And I am loyal."
"Very good."
Gendry nodded.
"What do you think should be done?"
"I believe the High Sparrow should be expelled from King's Landing or driven away," Olidor whispered.
Gendry smiled but said nothing.
Olidor was still too conservative.
"I heard that some people want to elect the High Sparrow as the next High Septon."
"There is such a possibility," Olidor admitted. "But he would still have to rise through the ranks. We haven't even elected him yet."
"What if his Sparrows simply push him into the position?"
Olidor's face turned pale.
"Then their clubs might decide the outcome."
Gendry looked at him.
"You have many friends within the Church. You often invite them to dinner."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Olidor understood the meaning immediately.
He had long dreamed of becoming the next High Septon.
Bribery and flattery were indispensable tools in that pursuit.
"If some people are willing to serve the High Sparrow," Gendry said, "are there not others who would be willing to protect the current High Septon?"
"There are."
Olidor gritted his teeth.
"It would only be a matter of money."
"I know some poor orphans who were supported by the Church. They started at the lowest ranks and dreamed of becoming bishops one day."
"The High Sparrow will come, and his followers will take away their livelihoods."
"I understand."
Olidor's eyes suddenly lit up.
"If the High Sparrow dares to seize the position of Archbishop, I will drive him out."
Gendry smiled.
The goal was not to minimize the problem.
It was to escalate it.
"Go ahead."
"I am behind you."
"I will pledge my life to you, Your Highness," Archbishop Olidor declared.
"Also, think carefully about why the High Sparrow is so popular."
"If you eat seven meals a day, you will still be surrounded by angry mobs."
Olidor immediately understood.
"I see."
He wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"Is there a possibility that the King could become the supreme protector of the Church?" Gendry asked casually.
Olidor opened his mouth.
The Storm's appetite was truly greater than anyone could have imagined.
"Just kidding," Gendry added.
"I will consider the matter," Olidor said nervously.
"Control yourself."
Gendry gave him one final warning.
"If you still want to become High Septon, you should understand the dangers of constantly seeking out women."
Olidor's expression stiffened.
---
The next week, Archbishop Olidor held the Church's regular meeting inside the Great Sept of Baelor.
Coincidentally, Gendry was not in King's Landing that day.
The army had therefore not noticed the danger in time.
All that remained was for the deed to be done.
Suddenly, a thunderous roar erupted outside.
The doors of the Great Sept burst open.
The Sparrows stormed inside.
They carried axes and clubs and had their leader raised high upon their shoulders.
"We demand that the High Sparrow be elected Archbishop!"
"We demand a new Archbishop!"
The large Sparrows wore Seven-Pointed Stars carved into their chests.
The bearded men waved axes and clubs, their bodies reeking of sweat and dust.
"This is an act of rebellion!"
The High Septon stared at them in disbelief.
He had already warned Gendry about the danger posed by the Sparrows.
Yet the Storm had remained silent.
The High Sparrow stepped forward.
"Look at yourselves."
"You are all fat and well-fed while the Sparrows are starving."
"You do not work. You do not produce anything."
"You should be wearing rough robes and scrubbing floors."
"Labor is also a form of prayer, and the Blacksmith especially favors those who work."
"It is not your place to criticize us!"
The High Septon shouted furiously.
"Enough talking!"
One of the Sparrows raised his axe.
"Today, we will see a new Archbishop!"
The other Sparrows roared in agreement.
Everyone inside the Great Sept was on edge.
They were being forced to begin the election.
Then another roar suddenly erupted.
A side door burst open.
Archbishop Olidor, who had secretly slipped away earlier, rushed back into the hall with a group of tall and imposing monks and nuns.
He pointed directly at the Sparrows.
"They are kidnapping the High Septon!"
Chaos erupted.
Clubs flew through the air.
The Sparrows and the clerics immediately began fighting.
At first, it was nothing more than a brawl between the two groups.
But the fighting quickly became more violent.
"You corrupt fools!"
The High Sparrow cursed as he watched his followers fight.
He had complete confidence in the Beggars' Brotherhood.
How could these weak and corrupt priests possibly defeat them?
The sound of clubs striking flesh echoed through the hall.
Short swords were drawn.
People screamed.
Blood splattered across the floor.
Chairs and tables were overturned and thrown aside.
The High Septon, panting heavily, finally found a place to hide.
"Someone is attacking the High Septon!"
Even the silver-robed clerics began shouting for help.
Outside, the bells of the Great Sept started ringing loudly.
The devout men and women who had come to pray were shocked by the commotion.
A huge crowd surged into the square.
The situation became completely chaotic.
Some unruly individuals took advantage of the confusion to steal.
Others joined the fighting, choosing either the Sparrows or the monks.
Soon, the entire Great Sept had become a battlefield.
The High Sparrow, who had been directing his followers from the side, suddenly realized that something was wrong.
They needed to retreat.
He turned around.
Pain suddenly exploded in his waist.
A dagger had pierced his body.
The High Sparrow stared down in disbelief.
He did not even know who had attacked him.
"The man who attacked the High Septon is here!"
Someone shouted.
The High Sparrow had no idea who had spoken.
He only saw blood slowly spreading across his robes.
His clothes were becoming darker and darker.
"Kill the High Sparrow!"
More daggers and clubs struck him.
Monks and strangers alike attacked him in the chaos.
Then a familiar face appeared before his fading eyes.
A face that was half-smiling and half-serious.
Calm.
Resolute.
The Storm.
The Storm never forgot.
The Sparrows could live.
But the High Sparrow had to die.
The Storm would not share power with anyone.
Not even with the Seven Gods.
"It's him…"
The High Sparrow finally understood.
"He's not truly a follower of the Seven Gods."
"He believes he is God."
"I should have known…"
He remembered the question Gendry had asked him that day.
The High Sparrow had mistaken it for curiosity.
Now he understood.
Gendry had been testing him.
"He had ulterior motives…"
Pain spread through his body.
His death was deserved.
He had been too foolish.
"The swift and decisive Storm…"
The High Sparrow's consciousness began to fade.
He could still wait.
He could still wait for a prosperous age.
A heaven on earth.
When the Long Winter came, the Sparrows would grow more numerous.
Who could stop them then?
The thought flickered weakly through his mind.
"High Sparrow!"
The Sparrows finally noticed their leader.
They stopped fighting and rushed toward him.
Some had already fallen to the ground.
Bodies and overturned tables littered the hall.
Blood covered the floor.
People continued fighting and stealing amid the chaos.
But the Sparrows only saw their leader.
The High Sparrow's body was slowly growing cold.
"The one who attacked me…"
His voice was barely audible.
"The one who attacked me…"
His life was fading like a dying flame.
"It was…"
His lips trembled.
"It might have been the Storm."
But he did not say it.
Only Gendry.
Only Gendry had risen from a commoner and blacksmith background.
Other nobles would never have considered the Sparrows to be equals, let alone human beings worthy of consideration.
But Gendry was different.
The Storm simply did not believe in a kingdom ruled by the Seven Gods.
He was unwilling to surrender himself to religious dogma.
If Gendry had a flaw, perhaps this was it.
But even so, the Storm was far stronger than the Lion and the Wolf Cub.
The High Sparrow's vision began to blur.
I am going to die.
But the Sparrows cannot all die because of me.
Holy Mother in Heaven…
For peace, I can sacrifice myself.
So be it.
Let this be the judgment for my betrayal of the kingdom.
Of all the great houses, the Lannisters were the people the High Sparrow hated most.
Perhaps there was another path.
Rather than dying in vain, perhaps his death could benefit the Storm.
The High Sparrow gathered the last of his strength.
"It was the Lannisters!"
His final cry echoed through the Great Sept.
"It was the Lannisters who attacked me!"
"Avenge me!"
Those were his last words.
The High Sparrow's eyes slowly closed.
His body went still.
The High Sparrow was dead.
________________________________________
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