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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.
—
Novigrad
"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.
"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Robert Baratheon. Due to some strange reasons, I found myself and my subordinates marooned in this foreign city. I was not going to intervene until the Witch Hunters attacked me for no reason," he explained.
There were murmurs and curses among the crowd.
"I have," he raised his hands, "in my infinite generosity, taken over this city. Henceforth, no more witch hunts, no more burnings, and no more prosecuting people because the previous leaders needed an enemy. More importantly, no more worshipping the Eternal Fire."
"What?! You can't do that?" A man, a merchant by his looks, screamed. He slapped his hands over his mouth, realizing what he had just done.
Ra, standing on the right side of the crowd, leaned down, growling at the man. "What did you just say, worm?"
He fainted.
"Anyone else?" he asked as the crowd turned to stone under the gaze of the dragon.
A figure, clad in black trousers and a light brown leather jacket with blue shoulders and a collar, covered by a hood, raised a hand. "What about the Witch Hunters?"
He clapped his hands. Those bastards deserved to die in his books. "Right, them. Due to the severity of their crimes, they are all sentenced to death."
No one argued. The citizens might have been all too delighted by the burnings only when it wasn't aimed at them.
"Sandor," he looked down, "go and kill them. Oh, and free anyone they might have imprisoned."
Sandor nodded. Ra extended a wing, allowing the human to hold on before pulling him up.
"But the Eternal Fire protects us." A voice from the crowd murmured, too low to detect where.
"I just threw the temple to the sea. I guarantee you, if the Eternal Fire doesn't protect a place dedicated to it, it certainly won't protect you," he said, putting an end to the
"I know you are all worried. This handsome and strong man coming down to your city with two dragons is a scary prospect," he said, chuckling at the joke. There was hesitant, sporadic laughter in response.
"However, you need not be. As long as my laws are obeyed, there will be no interference with your lives."
"Any questions? As I said, you don't need to be afraid."
A man, another merchant, raised his hand slowly. "Will the war tax continue?"
"Since I am taking the city out of the war, no. Effective immediately, all taxes taken for the purpose of aiding the war effort are removed. The other taxes will continue to be paid."
That got the crowd's attention. Wartime tax must be weighing heavily on all of them. His announcement received bright, loud cheers as his words registered.
"Where do you come from, my lord?" someone else, a woman in revealing clothing, waved a hand, looking at him with sultry eyes.
"From the city of Asgard, which I have no idea where it is relative to Novigrad."
"Are you a sorcerer as well?" the hooded woman asked.
"No."
"Then what are you?" she continued.
Robert smiled. "You wouldn't believe it either way, and I have no interest in wasting enough power to prove it."
The reveal would be ever so sweet.
He continued to answer questions for a while, bonding with the citizens to ease his temporary rule.
—
Sandor landed in the courtyard of the Witch Hunter Barracks.
He could hear the crossbows being drawn.
He walked to the entrance. The guards, dressed in leather, raised their weapons but did not stop him. Inside, he grabbed a frightened guard by the collar. "Where is your leader?"
"Up, in his office," the guard stuttered. Sandor let him go, marching up the stairs. There was only one room guarded on the upper floor. He walked past the men, barging into the room.
"Who the fuck are you?!" The leader of the Witch Hunters screamed, pulling a sword. Sandor held the sword by the sharp end and pulled it away, slapping the man to the ground.
"By the orders of Lord Robert Baratheon, all prisoners are to be set free."
Menge gulped. He had seen what this bastard had done firsthand. "Fine, take them. They are all upstairs."
They weren't worth his life.
—
"We are free to go?" An old woman asked, shielding her eyes from the sun.
"Yes. The Witch Hunters will no longer trouble anyone else," he said, turning to the dragon.
Ra's lips curled upwards, and he opened his maw, an inferno gathering. The Witch Hunters attempted to act, to run, but there was no place to run. The flames struck the building, quickly expanding into a sphere that covered the outpost.
There were no screams, only the snaps of the popping wood.
—
He dismissed the citizens once his announcements were done. He and the boys had already slaughtered everyone involved in witch burning except the hunters. Though the flames rising from the other end of the city showed they too were dead.
He just had to find a place to rule the city.
Luckily the Eternal Fire clergy had an administrative hall near the city center.
He introduced himself by kicking the door in. The clerks were already hiding under their desks. His arrival only made them squeak out in terror like mice.
"Gentleman, if you could be seated," he said, his clear voice echoing throughout the office. Someone peaked his head out, eyes darting around wildly. Robert smiled, pointing at the chair.
He was the only one.
"Excellent. I know this is all new for you. However, there will be no disruption to your work. You will simply report to me from now on."
"That's all; carry on," he said. The remaining clerks began to come out one by one, looking at one another. Robert ignored the whispers, walking to the upper floor. He didn't knock on the ornate door.
The inside was empty.
There was a desk, larger and more decorated than the ones below. Scattered papers, knocked-over chairs, and a goblet of spilled wine made the former occupant's what-abouts clear. He spread his hands, breathing in the rustic atmosphere.
Provided he wasn't sent to a different world, this would be even greater.
To determine that, he needed sorcerers.
—
"My lord," Sandor said, closing the door behind him.
"Sandor, are they all dead?"
"The ones in the outpost are. Wun Weg is hunting the rest down."
"The hunter becomes the hunted," he said, grinning.
Sandor took a seat, feeling the chair crackle beneath his weight. "How do you know this city so well?"
"I absorbed the soul of one of these hunters."
"How do we get back home?"
He reached into the bag he had brought, pulling the glass candle out. "We need a sorcerer to light this. If they can reach Asgard, we'll just have to call for ships."
"Go and get a volunteer from the clerks to act as my secretary. Say he'll get double the salary."
He left with a nod.
In the meantime, he decided to check the city's state. Novigrad was rich; he was aware of that much, but the details weren't necessary for a Witcher to know. He would have to figure the details out himself.
The numbers had to be put together since there wasn't a single document giving him everything he needed.
It still surprised him to see five hundred million crowns in local economic transactions and two point five billion in total trade. The crowns were abundant compared to gold dragons; however, they were less than half the size. Since Westeros used copper pennies and silver stags in daily life, comparisons had to be made.
One golden dragon was worth about seven hundred fifty crowns by his estimates.
Back at home, a skilled laborer earned around eight hundred forty silver stags, which meant four gold dragons. In Novigrad, the clerks working down a floor earned around three thousand crowns a year.
Which made Novigrad's internal trade worth more than six hundred thousand gold dragons.
"This one volunteered," he said, pushing the clerk, who was the first one to come out of hiding on the first floor.
"What's your name, kid?" he asked. The glasses and the bowl haircut with the robes of the Temple of the Eternal Fire gave him quite the nerdy appearance. He would have to get rid of those robes, of course, but otherwise seemed exactly the kind of assistant he needed.
His throat bobbed and he bowed too hastily, bending in half. "Bram, my lord."
"Bram. I need someone who knows the city to carry out some work I need. You will be paid double your salary."
"I would be honored, my lord."
"Your first task is to find me a sorcerer. Take whomever you need and announce that Robert Baratheon needs a sorcerer to operate a magical device. There will be an ample reward."
"Sandor, go with him for security. If anyone acts up, you know what to do."
Sandor left with Bram. Just as he was about to return to the papers, Wun Weg came in, crouching in an awkward position to get through the door. The smell of iron was still on him even though there wasn't a speck of blood on his armor.
"Wun Weg, how did it go?" he asked
"Good," the giant grunted, wiping the ashes stuck on his shoulder. "Killed the Hunters. Some soldiers too."
Knowing the Redenian soldiers, they must have thought they could take Wun Weg out by outnumbering him.
"Well done. Go and rest since there is nothing to do."
Wun Weg nodded, leaving to sit outside the door.
—
Oxenfurt
HMS Oxenfurt-Tretogor
"My king, one of our spies brings urgent news from Novigrad," a guard announced outside the door.
"Let him in."
The spy, a merchant who had taken a long time to convince, entered after being checked for weapons. The guards still stood behind him, ready to intervene should the man try something.
"Speak."
"My king, the city…"
Radovid turned to the man, who flinched and looked down. "Have you lost your tongue? Should I have the guards check if it's there?"
"The city has fallen."
"What?!" Radovid leaped from his seat, accidentally sending several chess pieces flying away. "How? The Nilfgaardians could not have outflanked us."
"It's not the black ones, my king. A monster in the shape of a man. He rode dragons to the city, slaughtered the Witch Hunters, and cast the Temple of the Eternal Fire into the sea. He declared himself the new ruler of Novigrad."
Radovid watched the spy.
Unless he had gone mad enough to commit suicide by bringing him this ridiculous news, then the man was telling the truth. No matter how outlandish his tale sounded.
"Tell me everything."
—
She leaned closer to listen to the crier. His clothing showed him as a clerk, and the man standing next to him made his announcement authentic.
She shivered.
Dressed in dark, full plate armor with wavy motifs and three snarling hounds, one on each shoulder and one as a helmet, and with a dark, long cloak, the magic rolling off the man thickened the air. She had felt a lot of sources of magic. Nothing compared except the power of the Elder Blood. Combined with the armor, the man was even more terrifying than the Wild Hunt.
She still couldn't believe the fact that the city had gone from burning magic users to the Temple of the Eternal Flame being thrown away to the sea like garbage. The one at the charge, the dragonrider, had cowed the entire city to submission in a matter of hours.
Power like that wasn't mere sorcery but something she had never seen before.
She would not have pried into it, but the promise of an ample reward hooked her in. It might be illegal now, but the sentiment against mages had not disappeared yet. She still needed coin to leave for Kovir.
—
She entered the administrative hall, something she never would have been able to a day ago. The clerks inside ignored her, too absorbed in their work, and she was allowed to pass through. The lack of security would have concerned her at any other time.
"Halt," a deep rumbling voice said. She looked up, seeing the crouching giant, for lack of a better description. He certainly wasn't a human, yet he looked wildly different from the giants she knew. Over ten feet tall, he carried a hammer as tall as himself, made from that black, wavy metal. His armor was plainer in look, lacking any decorative parts.
His magic was just as dangerous.
"I am Triss Merigold. I am here for Lord Robert's search for a mage."
The giant grunted, gently pushing the door open to peek inside. "Mage here. Wants to see you."
"Come in."
She took a deep breath and walked inside.
He was somehow less and more intimidating so close. He seemed to be mumbling a tune as he went over files, which impressed her because no one would be able to take over the administrative work of a freshly conquered city so quickly. Hunched over the documents, he seemed human enough, somehow shorter than he was while standing over the dragon's head.
He was still taller than any human she had seen.
He was extremely handsome too, with black, spiky hair, a sharp, angular face, and muscles like a maiden's fantasy.
On the other hand, he had a laurel around his head, half flames and half lightning. The sword leaning on his chair was pulsing with a kind of power that went beyond magic. His left hand was not human, of that she was sure, and his left eye burned with flames.
Human to a degree, but something far more than that.
Something she could not identify.
"My lord, I am Triss Merigold. May I congratulate you on your swift victory and extend my gratitude for stopping this senseless persecution of mages?"
"Buttering me up, are we? You wouldn't happen to be an assassin, would you?"
"What? No," she flinched, taking a step back, "I simply came to answer your call."
Robert chuckled, waving a hand. "Calm down; I am just joking. The last pair of red heads to flatter me so much turned out to be assassins. Anyway, forget it. Take a seat."
She did so.
Robert reached for the pitcher, pouring himself a goblet, and then drank the rest himself. While she inspected the offered drink, he pulled an artifact from his bag, a twisting obsidian stick, and put it on the table.
"This is a Valyrian Glass Candle. Once lit, it allows the user to peer across continents and speak to anyone they want and more."
"Like a megascope," she said. She didn't know who the Valyrians were. Obviously they were from
"I don't know what that is, but I'll take your word for it."
"I can't light it because when I push magic into the candle, it's akin to taking a sledgehammer to it."
Which made the problem evident to her. "It needs a much smaller amount."
Robert snapped a finger. "Exactly. Light the candle; help me contact my home, and you can ask for whatever you want within reason."
Triss nodded and reached for the artifact.
—
In the next chapter:
Triss let her magic flow into the obsidian candle. She tried to get a sense of how the artifact worked, thinking it was similar to a megascope. She was both right and wrong.
An orange flame was lit at the top of the candle. It expanded into a rectangular screen, presenting a clear image of the city as she wanted to see it. It even came with the proper colors.
"Where should I look?" she asked. This was more advanced than a megascope.
"I checked the maps. Unless I am in another world, my home should be east of this continent. Let's just see how far east you can go."
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