The High Sparrow was a little panicked.
As the son of a shoemaker, he had devoted himself to the faith of The Seven many years ago.
To spread the gospel of The Seven, the High Sparrow had traveled barefoot through almost every village in the Seven Kingdoms. After a long period of grassroots preaching, he had gained a large number of followers.
He never lived a life of luxury, wearing only a simple, plain wool knee-length tunic. Wherever he went, people were moved by his simplicity and steadfast faith.
But only the High Sparrow knew in his heart that what supported him step by step to this day was not faith in The Seven—that was something only foolish villagers would believe.
The strongest desire in his heart was power!
Ever since he saw his father being dragged out and beaten in the street for no reason by the Gold Cloaks because he couldn't pay his taxes, the High Sparrow had developed an endless thirst for power.
But he was not a noble. His father's small shoemaker's shop was not enough to support him in buying swords and armor to strive to become a knight.
So the clever High Sparrow took a different approach and packaged himself as an Ascetic Cultivator.
He knew that only by joining the embrace of The Seven could he find the correct path to the Peak of power.
Those mired in suffering desperately needed a "god" to comfort their broken souls.
With his superb acting as a compassionate man and his unrivaled preaching ability, his reputation among the poor had almost reached its peak.
Once he felt the time was ripe, the High Sparrow returned to King's Landing, a place he knew all too well.
Using his skilled methods, the High Sparrow repeated his old tricks, uniting many of the slum-dwelling poor who couldn't afford to eat, faintly showing a tendency to rival the orthodox church.
But just as he was ready to deal a fatal blow to the church and secure the status of a Cardinal for himself...
A group of knights wearing Gold Cloaks but with golden Lannister lion emblems on their chests barged into his gathering place and forcibly tied him up.
By the Seven, the High Sparrow didn't recognize any of them until he saw the blonde youth riding a white horse at the front of the group.
"Arsath Lannister!"
"Oh? You actually know me?"
Looking at the High Sparrow, whose eyes seemed to flash with anger yet who still maintained his grand image of compassion, the smile on Arthas's face grew even wider.
Did the High Sparrow know Arthas? Of course!
As the Sparrow leader of King's Landing, he had no fewer informants in the city than the Little Birds of Varys, known as The Spider.
"Of course, Lord Arthas."
Enduring the pain, the High Sparrow struggled to climb up from the ground and responded calmly and peacefully:
"Your feat of taking on seven Kingsguard alone is unprecedented; your name has long echoed throughout King's Landing."
Seeing his feigned composure, the smile on Arthas's face became even more brilliant:
"Very good, Your Excellency High Sparrow."
Turning his head to look at the statue of The Father above, Arthas spoke as if to himself:
"Yesterday, my men told me that there was a barefoot Ascetic Cultivator who had been silently providing relief to the poor in King's Landing."
"I was curious why such a pure and kind person would appear in this place full of desire and hatred."
"I even thought for a moment that The Seven had descended upon the mortal world."
"I originally thought that such a devout Your Excellency High Sparrow would surely be able to fulfill my dream of seeing a deity with my own eyes."
"But the moment I saw you, I knew that dream was shattered once again."
The High Sparrow, who had been listening silently, looked up in confusion, only to meet Arthas's golden eyes, which seemed to see through everything.
"Do you know why that is, Your Excellency High Sparrow?"
Facing Arthas's gaze, the High Sparrow was in a state of panic, but his face remained impassive as he replied:
"Because the True God always exists in our hearts."
"Hahaha~"
"I just love how you can lie without even blinking!"
The High Sparrow's answer drew a loud laugh from Arthas, who walked slowly toward him. With every step he took, it felt like a hammer striking heavily against the Sparrow's heart:
"The first time I saw you, Your Excellency High Sparrow..."
"The thirst for power in your eyes, your filthy, fallen Soul mired in endless darkness—it all makes me incredibly excited!"
Their eyes met, and the High Sparrow could clearly see Arthas's golden pupils slowly turning silver-white, even emitting a faint ghostly blue light.
An endless chill struck the top of his head, as if even his Soul were frozen. Only the whispers of the lich king echoed continuously in his mind:
"Do a good job of helping the poor and needy in the position of High Septon, High Sparrow."
"Make sure you don't take the wrong path."
"Otherwise, I would be more than happy to take that interesting Soul of yours."
After an unknown amount of time, when the High Sparrow regained his ability to move, he realized that the Crystal Crown had been placed on his head at some point.
And Arthas had long since left this center of the faith of The Seven with the Lannister Gold Cloaks.
"Under the light of The Seven, we do not need such flashy decorations."
Coming back to his senses, the High Sparrow tore the crown from his head and smashed it to pieces on the ground.
Then, putting on his compassionate mask once more, he walked out of the Great Sept... "Hey, Jaime."
On the road to Winterfell, The Imp rode his horse beside Jaime, who was clad in white cloak and white armor, chatting with him aimlessly.
King's Landing was far too distant from Winterfell, and Robert kept urging the party to quicken their pace. There wasn't even time to visit a brothel along the way.
He even felt a bit of regret for joining this journey.
"Why is Cersei always hiding in the carriage? Isn't she bored at all?"
"Don't ask me, Tyrion."
Jaime's eye twitched, and a hint of melancholy appeared on his handsome face.
Ever since Arthas went to see Cersei last night, she hadn't spoken a single word to Jaime.
No matter what excuse he found to try and get close to Cersei, she refused to leave the carriage.
No matter how bold Jaime was, he wouldn't dare crawl into Cersei's carriage right under Robert's nose.
"I heard that Arthas went to the palace to meet Cersei alone last night."
"Could it be that Arthas is so charming that Cersei has abandoned you?"
Seeing Jaime's dejected look, the fire of gossip began to burn fiercely within The Imp. He leaned in and asked in a voice only the two of them could hear.
Although he knew this was somewhat unfair to Jaime, their sister was simply not the type to settle down.
Being outshone by Arthas... well, it wasn't exactly shameful.
"Shut up, Tyrion!"
Clearly having been poked in a sore spot, Jaime snapped at The Imp like a cat with its fur standing on end:
"If you dare mention this again, I'll throw you off your horse!"
If there hadn't been so many people around, The Imp probably would have already received a "loving" fist from his brother.
"Hehe, relax, tall Kingsguard."
Seeing Jaime's exasperation, The Imp quickly raised both hands in a gesture of surrender.
After a while, The Imp sighed, appearing somewhat sentimental:
"I really don't know how much that fellow Arthas is favored by the gods."
"He's handsome, his swordsmanship is superb, and he's so smart."
"He's only fourteen, yet when he stands before me, I always feel like I'm facing Father."
Hearing this, Jaime felt the same way. He looked back toward King's Landing, as if seeing again that Invincible figure standing in the tourney grounds:
"Yes, at only fourteen, he has performed feats that have utterly shocked all of Westeros."
Shaking his head, he mocked himself weakly:
"To tell you the truth, after being defeated by him last year, I practiced my swordsmanship hard for a whole year."
"I didn't expect that in front of him, I would still be so vulnerable."
"Looking back now, it's a good thing I chose to join the Kingsguard."
Facing The Imp's questioning gaze, Jaime explained again, his tone much lighter this time:
"If I hadn't joined the Kingsguard, Father would have certainly designated me as the heir to the lord of casterly rock."
"The thought of competing for the succession with such a terrifying younger brother... it's frightening just thinking about it."
"Hahaha~"
These words were spoken with true sincerity, and both of them laughed heartily with deep feeling.
"Seriously, Jaime."
Wiping away a tear—whether from laughter or a sudden feeling of sorrow—The Imp asked solemnly:
"Do you really not care at all about the position of lord of casterly rock?"
Facing The Imp's persistent questioning, Jaime shook his head and didn't answer the question in front of so many people.
In his heart, only Cersei was the most important.
As long as he could be with the person he loved, Casterly Rock was not worth mentioning.
"Tyrion, I have a premonition."
Turning his head, a pair of charming emerald eyes looked at his brother. Jaime smiled, appearing once again like that proud and humble knight:
"Perhaps by the time we return to King's Landing, Arthas will have already made the name Lannister his own."
"Surely not..."
Jaime's certain tone surprised The Imp. Although Arthas was indeed exceptional, he shouldn't be able to achieve such staggering results in just over a month.
"Just watch, Tyrion."
Disagreeing with The Imp's doubt, Jaime's eyes were full of determination:
"Lannister produced one wise Old Lion, and he achieved today's glory."
"Now, a young lion king has emerged."
"If those two join forces, I have no doubt that all of Westeros will tremble beneath the lion's roar!"
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