[Chapter Size: 3300 Words.]

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Pessoa Thrid POV

Westeros, 295 AC.

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Jon continued with his group, and as they reached the last houses on the closed streets, someone suddenly stumbled out of an alley and fell in front of him, the sound of clashing metal links accompanying the cloaked man’s crash to the ground.

The man fell before Jon as his royal guards positioned themselves between Jon and the man. “Ah…” Jon could hear the man’s moan of pain, with the man being of not so young an age.

“It’s alright…” Jon said as he approached the man, feeling he should help him, stepping past the royal guard and taking the man by the arm.

“Archmaester Marwyn!? What do you think you’re doing here like this? You should be at the university, and how can you be so clumsy!” The maester accompanying Jon exclaimed, displeased by the disaster this maester had caused.

“I apologize, I am overwhelmed with tasks, I apologize, King Jon Artica.” He spoke as they quickly stood up and left the spot to return to the university.

“…” Jon watched him walk away with a raised eyebrow, and they continued on their way, but without Jon looking at the paper Archmaester Marwyn had left in his hand.

‘It’s a trap…’ Jon read the paper in his mind and smiled, it seemed not all maesters were corrupt in this city.

They continued walking after that, as he tucked the message away, not caring much, after all, he expected this. They finally emerged into the open area in front of the citadel, a massive structure, hundreds of people who were in the citadel came out to see the giants arriving with Jon, as they were greeted by a small group of maesters.

“King of the North, these are our Grand Maesters, the minds behind the entire citadel…” The maester who accompanied them spoke as Jon looked at each.

“It’s an honor to see you here, monarch of the North, I’ve heard many stories about you, you are certainly unique in person, not disappointing in any aspect.” The one in the center spoke, approaching Jon, but he greeted him without any physical contact, maintaining his respect from a distance.

Jon knew this man seemed to be the leader here and was one of the more unlikable ones, but Jon just maintained a nod, “I’m surprised you’ve heard about me in this place… Maester…?” Jon murmured.

“He is Archmaester Vorian, the one who commands the citadel and the order of maesters.” The maester accompanying Jon said, correcting Jon, but he could see that he was dissatisfied with Jon calling him maester.

“That’s alright, I’m not as well-known as our guest, so it’s fine.” The man spoke in a calm tone, though not fully hiding his dissatisfaction, while Jon maintained a calm smile for it now.

“Very well, then Lord Hightower told me to come here since you invited me for a negotiation while I’m quite interested in the books you have.” Jon spoke.

“Yes, of course. Why don’t you follow me, you could bring at most 10 guards? We are men who sharpen our minds and not blades, so we do not resort to violence… and I doubt the citadel can accommodate giants…” He spoke, looking with interest at the armored men standing at the entrance.

“Alright, show me the way.” Jon spoke as some royal guards and Artican men followed him. Jon looked at the giants and motioned with his head for them to stay alert, the maesters didn’t even notice how all the soldiers were fully armed, leaving no part of their bodies exposed for a fight.

It seemed they were unaware that the Articans were preparing for war, or even if they were, they still felt confident, after all, there were at least ten times more soldiers from Oldtown standing at the entrance.

Jon enjoyed his tour, while looking around paying attention to this place, although he had been here before, he hadn’t explored everything, the sight of the massive library was something that still surprised him.

“Admirable, isn’t it?” Archmaester Vorian stepped out from the group of other Archmaesters and began to talk with Jon, while he listened to the history of the citadel from the man over the next few minutes.

“Prepare the men!!!” Out at sea, the Artican ships shouted orders to each other, as soldiers began donning their armors, running back and forth while the Wargs tried to organize the ships so they wouldn’t get stuck together.

Only a few ships would remain out of the conflict, while Jaime looked dazed at what was happening as soon as he emerged from his cabin on another ship, with the Articans on the same ship watching the action around them.

“What’s happening here?!” Jaime asked, curious and quite surprised.

“This… we’re preparing for a fight, finally some action, southerner,” a dwarf scowled at Jaime.

“Fight?! Where are we?” Jaime couldn’t be more surprised, wondering who they were going to attack and he still didn’t even know where he was.

“It doesn’t matter to you, southern man. Just stay quiet and don’t bother, maybe you can admire our warships,” the dwarf continued mocking as the others paid them no attention.

Jaime could do nothing but watch men, dwarves, and giants getting ready on dozens of ships as they seemed to be heading for a war.

“Wait! Let me go!!” Arya shouted as a dwarf brought her back in front of Seryna.

“I didn’t expect you to run at the first chance…” Seryna looked at the girl with crossed arms.

“I just wanted to see the other ships, I swear!” Arya complained, and Seryna shook her head at that. “It’s not fair! Tormund jumped to another ship!” She complained.

“Tormund has Jon’s authorization to join the battle, you don’t,” Seryna said as Arya pouted. “Anyway, let’s go eat something,” Seryna suggested, and entered with Arya having no choice but to follow her inside the deck.

The ships continued organizing as they prepared for battle. They positioned alongside the part of the fleet that would stay, waiting for orders to advance. Meanwhile, some ships were either leaving or even stopping at sea to watch over them. It didn’t matter, because with the technology of their ships, they could quickly pass those before they could alert the city.

On the coast, a thousand men were organizing after disembarking from their ships. They were a bit away from the city, but at least none of them had been seen, maintaining the element of surprise as the wargs took care of the area as scouts.

“Let’s start moving, first the Artican soldiers will clear the roads while the giants and heavy loads come right behind,” a royal guard organizing the attack said.

They began to organize with a large troop divided into groups for each task; since the giants and even dwarves were the slowest, the human troops began to surround the roads around the group to catch anyone who saw them along the way, so no one could report it to the city. It would be a quick and effective operation, while Oldtown would have no external communication, leaving the city at the mercy of this attack without being able to call for help.

“Remember, we must stop anyone we encounter on the road. We’ll detain them and put them somewhere so they can break free in a few hours or when we return,” the man said. After all, the ships were to stay on the coast, hidden with some guards until the troops returned to set sail again.

Thus, they began to march along the road, while their scouts identified any merchant, soldier, or even noble passing by. They were quickly detained, unable to do anything given the size of that force.

After leaving them in a safe place without robbing them, they ignored the pleas and cries and headed for the city, and the flow of people increased as they approached. Until the city was visible, there was a main gate, and the city walls were high, but nothing that could stop them.

There was a crowd of people at the gate, due to them being suddenly closed without warnings with nobles and commoners stopped at the entrance complaining and asking to be let in. The guards on the walls explained that the city was closed at that moment by order of Lord Hightower’s brother.

“How should we do this?” Eldric asked, standing next to a royal guard, who continued giving orders and looking for the best strategy not to disappoint the Artican king who was inside the city at that moment. “Well, we need an archer. And you, you’re our champion,” he said, calling more archers.

“We need to take down all the soldiers on the wall before we blow the gate, but we need to clear this crowd out of the middle of the attack,” he said, looking into the distance.

“Now you’re speaking my language! Let’s make kabum!!” A dwarf accompanying them exclaimed, making a theatrical scene.

“Yes, prepare everyone and capture anyone who approaches from the city or from our rear, prepare the explosives, we’ll wait for the order from our king before we start acting,” he said as everyone nodded, beginning to prepare.

Meanwhile, Jon finally climbed several floors in the citadel until he found a completely sealed room, without windows or even small animals, ‘They prepared well…’ Jon commented as he wore a cloak over his armor, keeping his helmet in a bag with him.

He noticed at least 20 guards with swords around the room, while a man with another 5 guards was seated in a chair in the middle of the place with a table.

“Allow me to introduce the High Sparrow of Oldtown… a very influential man and the apostle of the Seven among us mortals,” he said, emphasizing his gods while Jon shrugged and looked at the man, who did not even bother to hide his disdain, perhaps because he didn’t greet him at the entrance, feeling superior. More people emerged from the door soon after them, while the guards settled in and prepared for anything that might happen there, but Jon asked them to remain calm with a subtle hand signal.

Jon calmly sat in front of that septa while he didn’t even bother to greet him while maintaining an openly disdainful look. The maesters began to fill their seats while the room quickly was filled by five archmaesters, twenty maesters, fifteen septons, and forty guards.

While Jon was in front of this group clearly not hiding his pressure, 10 royal guards in eldenmetal armor maintained their posture like their king.

“So you are here for books…” The High Sparrow suddenly spoke, he had white hair, but his voice was that of an experienced orator, accustomed to controlling crowds.

“That shouldn’t be a surprise,” Jon calmly replied.

“You should speak with respect to our High Sparrow, wildling,” the voice of one of the septons among the group exclaimed at Jon for the disrespect.

The next moment, all 10 of Jon’s guards began to unsheathe their swords as all the soldiers in the room immediately also prepared.

“Everyone calm down!” The High Sparrow spoke while Jon looked at him calmly. Even Archmaester Vorian asked all the guards to lower their weapons, after all, they still had some things to discuss with this group.

“Tell me, why do you want books, heard some strange things, among them you educating the common folk, for free,” Archmaester Vorian now spoke, looking at Jon with curiosity.

“You’re right, after all, I want to have the smartest people in the world and I also need to build the largest library in the world in Artica,” Jon spoke more than usual, but he did it on purpose, while the group looked at him surprised by this.

“You want to build the largest library in the world?!” The maesters and Archmaesters exclaimed.

“You want to educate the common people, what nonsense is this?!” The High Sparrow exclaimed almost horrified by Jon’s words.

“Should you be surprised? I’ve never hidden this, after all, just look at my actions since Dorne,” Jon mocked them.

“This wildling…” The High Sparrow murmured and looked at Jon with a grim face. “You talk nonsense, this is absurd!” He exclaimed.

“It may be to your eyes, but not for Artica, we will have superior education,” Jon spoke with a neutral tone.

“No one can surpass the citadel!” A maester said from the group while Jon almost laughed at that.

“My sister of 11 years has proven to be as smart or even smarter than your maesters… So I am very confident,” Jon continued speaking with the same smile.

“That’s a lie!” An archmaester snarled.

“Please… let’s calm our tempers…” Archmaester Vorian spoke, but the group, although silent, looked at Jon like someone they wanted to kill.

The head of the citadel then continued, “We are very interested in Artica, so we want to negotiate with you…” he began and Jon raised an eyebrow at him.

“So you’re going to sell the books as Lord Hightower said?” Jon asked.

“We will make some books available, if you are interested, we have these books to give you for free,” the Archmaester spoke, and one of the maesters took some books from behind his cloak as he approached the table and placed the books with a scroll.

“The Order of Maesters and the Faith of the Seven?” Jon commented, raising an eyebrow at the title of the books; these guys really knew how to make a joke.

“If you want to know why we’re showing this, read the scroll,” the High Sparrow spoke in a tone as if he were talking to a subordinate, while Jon turned to him with eyes gleaming with a dangerous hue, which seemed to affect the man for a split second, but he quickly returned to his normal posture, and Jon went to see what they wanted from him.

‘The construction of a citadel in Artica… as a missionary mission with hundreds of maesters to survey the location and learn about our lands… This is an excuse to steal our ideas and take our autonomy, they even want to send a master exclusively to stay with me and assist me in ruling the kingdom due to my age and having no heir yet.’ Jon began to read the absurd demands they were making there, not even considering that Seryna and Ygritte were the mothers of our children, and it didn’t end there, for there was another demand, something even more serious.

‘They want to educate us with their true gods, want to indoctrinate us to the Faith of the Seven and forget the old gods, treating us as heretics.’ Jon thought and saw how the eyes of the High Sparrow and Archmaester Vorian gleamed at that moment, waiting for Jon’s response.

“Hahahahahahahahahaha!” Suddenly, Jon burst out laughing at that, it was the funniest joke he had ever seen in his life, breaking even his kingly posture.

“What are you laughing at, wildling king!?” The High Sparrow felt offended by that and demanded immediately. The group also looked at Jon with hostile eyes, while he laughed a bit more before calming down, with his guards watching every movement in the room.

“Well, this certainly is funny. I came here to ask for books, and you come up with this joke…” Jon commented calmly.

“You think we are joking?!” The High Sparrow exclaimed, pounding his fist on the table while Jon stared at him with a small smile.

“I think, you haven’t even dominated the North, whose religion remains independent, and you simply think you’ll control Artica with your southern faith?” Jon raised an eyebrow.

“Do not mock us, Artican king…” Archmaester Vorian spoke with a somber tone.

“That’s not entirely true…” Jon spoke again. “You managed to build a sept in the heart of Winterfell with the fish that lives in the house of Stark,” Jon mocked.

“Listen here, wildling…” The High Sparrow began again with fury in his voice. “You better heed our demands, first you are surrounded and your men could fall at any moment, while the city is closed, and I doubt your men can do anything before we apprehend you,” he spoke as Jon stared at him.

“You really ended the negotiation so quickly, I expected something more prolonged,” Jon complained in a sarcastic tone.

“Listen, king of Artica… you’d better recognize your situation. We are demanding basic things, we want a citadel in your kingdom after getting to know you and assisting you. We want your people to renounce their faith and create septs in this kingdom, educating your people with the Faith of the Seven and not with books as you want,” Archmaester Vorian spoke.

“Do you really think you have the power for this?” Jon raised an eyebrow.

“Listen here, wildling bastard. You are just a wildling from frozen lands, we control the Seven Kingdoms, if you still want to negotiate with these lands, you better listen to us. We want our faith in Artica, I want you to renounce your current children and make them bastards, and marry a woman we demand!” he spoke, and Jon began to lose patience with this man, they really thought they could control him and even demanded that his children be bastards? Jon changed his opinion from the best joke he’d ever heard to the most absurd thing he’d ever heard in his life.

“Do you really think we need you? I’ve already taken everything I needed. The Seven Kingdoms have nothing more to offer us, and I doubt you can replicate our products,” Jon mocked, aware that it was not in their interest to keep him alive, after all, they hated magic, and he was currently the most powerful magical force in the world.

“I ask you to reconsider, after all, we can provide education and salvation for your people…” Archmaester Vorian spoke, and Jon shook his head, these people just wanted to rob him, a complete absurdity, he was no longer in the mood to laugh or get angry, he just wanted to end this.

“You know… you think you’re in control? Let’s suppose, on a small chance, that you could kill me here…” Jon began in a neutral but dangerous tone, “My wife carrying my child is hundreds of miles from here, she could simply return to Artica, you wouldn’t be able to attack for a long time and I bet no one in the Seven Kingdoms would do that under your conditions, my son would grow up and he would burn this place down in a few years,” Jon mocked in the same tone.

“Absurd!”

“Just a wildling with delusions!”

“Kill him!”

“He is an enemy of the Seven, a demon!”

Both the maesters and the septons began to shout at Jon.

“What complete nonsense! Put him in a cage!! And kill the rest of his men!” The High Sparrow spoke confidently as if he had everything under control. The royal guards were the first to react, drawing their eldenmetal swords while the enemies did likewise, and footsteps began to come from above, with archers preparing to position crossbows against them.

“Don’t harm the giants too much, I want to study them!” a maester immediately exclaimed, and Jon decided to end this.

“You know you’ve made a mistake, right?” Jon suddenly said, while being surrounded, as the High Sparrow raised an eyebrow and Jon continued with his most dangerous look. “You left me armed, did not give me bread and salt at the entrance, and you threatened me while you are within the reach of my sword,” Jon said, and in the next moment, he moved his arm like lightning, drawing his sword from his waist, and the High Sparrow could only move a few inches by reflex as his neck was pierced by Dark Sister, spilling blood on his companions behind him.

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