“Increase the number of voters? You don’t mean to expand the voting scope to the Gift, do you? We’re electing the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, not the King of the Gift. This is a privilege reserved for sworn brothers of the Watch.”

“It’s not that outrageous. Even if everyone agreed, I wouldn’t dare say yes. If we did that, the winner would undoubtedly be the former King-Beyond-the-Wall, Mance Rayder.” Aegor laughed heartily, shaking his head. “We’re just playing around the edges, working within the rules. To make those four hundred votes account for less than a third of the total, we only need the total number of sworn brothers with voting rights to exceed twelve hundred. In other words, we just need to find a way to get two hundred people willing to take the black and cast their votes for me, and we can turn the situation around.”

Could that really be done?

The man’s schemes were truly beyond imagination. What could that old man Denys Mallister and that brute Cotter Pyke possibly do to oppose someone like this? Melisandre narrowed her eyes, staring at Aegor for a few seconds. She had originally come to offer her help proactively to earn trust and influence, hoping to secure a place and wield some power at the Wall and in the Gift after Aegor won the election. Who would’ve thought… this man before her didn’t seem to need her help at all and could handle it himself.

“An interesting idea. Where do you plan to find these two hundred people?”

“Recruit from the Night’s Watch logistics department, conscript from the residents of the Gift… High rewards attract brave men. That part doesn’t concern me.” A glint flashed in Aegor’s eyes. “That only gets us new recruits. For them to have voting rights, they must be acknowledged as sworn brothers. Normally, the master-at-arms compiles a list of trained recruits and submits it to the Commander for approval. Once approved, they take their vows and are assigned to a department. But since a new Commander hasn’t been elected yet, I believe this process can be bypassed. Sam told me there’s historical precedent for this.”

“You mean the so-called precedent of swearing the oath directly after being approved by the master-at-arms?”

“Exactly.” Aegor nodded. “Throughout history, there have been countless Lord Commander elections, some lasting from one day to as long as two years. The Night’s Watch can wait patiently for a new leader to emerge, but nobles who joined for honor, or criminals and exiled political failures sent by kings and lords, cannot. Only after they take the oath are they officially bound by the black, allowing the law to be enforced and the victors to feel at ease. I plan to offer the master-at-arms at Castle Black a reward: a sum for every recruit whose training is completed and who officially joins the Watch… Money alone may not be enough. I’ll also need to find time to have a proper conversation with Ser Endrew and ask for his cooperation.”

“I heard Endrew Tarth served at the Shadow Tower for many years before Jeor Mormont transferred him to Castle Black. How do you plan to persuade him to work against his former superior for this election?”

“That’s indeed the most difficult part of the plan. But at least his public stance is neutral, right? I believe that when the cart reaches the mountain, there will be a road. When the boat reaches the dock… well… there are always more solutions than problems.”

“Where did that saying come from? It’s quite interesting.” Melisandre narrowed her eyes. “What’s more coincidental is that it’s actually true today. Your path is right in front of you.”

“Oh?” Aegor asked, pretending not to understand. “How so?”

“Here’s the good news. The most critical part of your plan, the current master-at-arms at Castle Black, Ser Endrew, has, under my guidance, come to recognize that R’hllor is the one true god. As a follower of the Lord of Light, as long as I speak, I can easily persuade him to grant you this favor.”

Aegor’s heart stirred. That was indeed good news. He didn’t care whether Melisandre persuaded, seduced, or directly used magic to manipulate Ser Endrew.

“That’s wonderful. I just wonder, Lady Melisandre, what price do you want me to pay for this favor?”

“Price? No, no, no. Lord Logistics Officer, I think you’ve misunderstood something. The Wall is the front line of a life-and-death war, and the choice of Commander concerns the future of all humanity. We need a strong leader who can guide us through this darkness. I believe in your ability and think you’re the most suitable Commander. That’s why I came to offer help on my own accord.” Melisandre looked directly into Aegor’s eyes. “This is voluntary assistance. You don’t need to pay any price. I only ask, my lord, that after you’re elected, you agree to a few small requests from me.”

…

Such a day had actually come.

A major character like Melisandre, with her mysterious powers, had taken the initiative to offer help in the Lord Commander election and was even willing to personally involve herself?

Aegor suddenly remembered the time he first transmigrated. Back then, just to carry out small plans to survive, he had to scrimp and save, watch carefully, listen attentively, and gauge the mood of everyone around him. Even later, when he arrived at King’s Landing, he had to personally go out to recruit ordinary employees, offering both benefits and persuasion… and even playing the emotional card just to win people over.

Should he say that the righteous path is always well supported?

No. When a person rises to a certain height and displays enough skill and influence, it’s like a game character whose charisma and reputation stats are maxed out—followers and supporters naturally come to them. And in Melisandre’s eyes, the qualities Aegor had shown that aligned with the prophecy were the most critical reason she had come to pledge her support.

Aegor nodded. “As long as your requests aren’t excessive, I’m happy to oblige.”

“I will have the lords and retainers who followed me across the Narrow Sea swear the oath and join the Night’s Watch. They’re all of noble birth and have received knightly training. As long as they apply, they can take the black directly without a lengthy training period. No one can object. Once they become sworn brothers, they will vote for you, helping you secure victory… After that, it’ll be up to you and the master-at-arms.”

“Joining the Night’s Watch means giving up everything they have in the South. They’re truly willing to do that just to support me?”

“Everything they possess?” Melisandre smiled faintly. “What the Lord of Light can offer them far exceeds anything their families or kings can.”

Should he marvel at the terrifying power of faith?

Only the gods knew what Melisandre had promised these so-called queen’s men—or how much magic she used to enchant them—convincing them not only to abandon the chance of gaining glory by following Stannis, but even to join the Night’s Watch. Since they were willing to make such sacrifices just to help him ascend to power, he was certainly pleased.

Aegor nodded, waiting for the witch to name her “few small conditions.”

“But you won’t truly make them stay and guard the Wall forever.” Melisandre didn’t keep him guessing. After a brief pause, she continued, “After this life-and-death war ends and we drive the forces of the cold god back to the Lands of Always Winter, you will send them south, back to their homes, to gather supplies, just like you once left Castle Black for King’s Landing. Is that acceptable?”

In simple terms, she was asking that after they helped, they could return to their comfortable lives. This might seem unfair to other sworn brothers of the Watch… but by the Seven, at a time like this, who had the luxury to fuss about such things?

Aegor nodded. “No problem. They’ll all be assigned to the logistics department, serving as Quartermasters, specifically responsible for traveling south after the war.”

“After you’re elected, you must allow me to spread the teachings of the Lord of Light at the Wall and in the Gift.”

An expected condition. If you receive favors, how can you not pay a price? Ultimately, this wasn’t for personal gain and wouldn’t harm the defense of the Wall. Aegor continued to nod. “Alright.”

People without faith are wild. Allowing Melisandre’s red god to influence the Free Folk might not be such a bad thing. But Aegor also understood that people blinded by zealotry could be even more dangerous than savages. How to strike the right balance—he could think about that after securing the Commander’s position.

…

He agreed to the first two conditions without hesitation. This was within Melisandre’s expectations. Using a gradual approach to lower her negotiation partner’s guard was a common tactic—not something only Aegor knew.

“The final condition: you must publicly acknowledge that you are Azor Ahai reborn—the prophesied Prince. As the legendary hero, you must lead humanity’s war against death.”

That one truly caught Aegor off guard. Admitting he was the prophesied Prince… what good would that do? Among the three major groups that made up the Gift—the Night’s Watch, the mountain clans, and the Free Folk—who even cared about that broken prophecy?

“I don’t get it. Why would I pretend to be someone else? That prophecy may be widely known, but believe me—very few actually care. I will be elected Commander based on my ability and win people’s support with my actions. I don’t need this kind of tactic.” Aegor shook his head, then raised an eyebrow. “Wait… do you need someone to pretend to be the Prince, or do you actually believe I am him?”

“All signs point to you as the one who fulfills the prophecy.” Melisandre shook her head. “Years ago, I saw Dragonstone in the sacred flames… At the time, I thought it meant the prophesied one would be the Prince of Dragonstone. But King Stannis, who sat upon the Iron Throne, refused to go to the front lines of the war between ice and fire. That contradicted the next part of the prophecy. I was confused for a while, until I realized—perhaps the Lord of Light wasn’t showing me that the Prince ruled Dragonstone, but that I would meet the prophesied one on Dragonstone.”

“Alright, we did meet on Dragonstone.” In fact, there had been some twists and turns. Aegor waved his hand to cut her off. “Let me get this straight—you saw Dragonstone in the fire, then you saw the Wall, and since I happened to be in both places at the same time as you, you now believe I’m the prophesied Prince? Isn’t that a bit hasty?”

“It’s not that simple. Don’t forget, when we met, you had already slain a White Walker and had clashed with another false god. You carried the auras of two heresies. I should’ve seen your uniqueness then, but I was too confident and only saw you as a regular sworn brother of the Watch. Besides the two visions I saw in the flames, I also saw the prophesied Prince leading thousands against the coming darkness. Once you’re elected Commander, won’t that fulfill the third vision? There are no lies in the sacred flames… And beyond those signs, it was your qualities that ultimately convinced me.”

…

(If you knew the methods I used to fight for a business trip to King’s Landing, and the escape route I prepared to flee across the Narrow Sea, you probably wouldn’t say that.) Aegor thought to himself.

—

The Lord of Light showing Melisandre Dragonstone in the flames could have meant that Daenerys was born there, or perhaps that Dragonstone had Dragonglass, a key weapon against the White Walkers. As for the Wall… by the gods, there could be ten thousand reasons R’hllor showed the Wall in a vision. And leading “thousands”? A thousand sworn brothers and forty thousand Gift residents cobbled together… does that count?

Aegor didn’t say any of that aloud.

From a practical standpoint, Melisandre’s belief that he was the Prince was beneficial and harmless to him.

Undeniably, his performance had been successful. The book A Night’s Watch’s Fantastic Adventure and several public appearances had helped shape the image of Aegor West—an adventurous, capable, cold-enduring hero who was both brave and decisive. It had even influenced the Red Priestess’s interpretation of the prophecy. To be honest, being mistaken for the Prince was a bit like being secretly admired by a girl you liked—it was a pleasant feeling. But after careful thought, Aegor made his decision: Do not admit it.

Besides the concern that Melisandre might vent her anger on him if she was proven wrong again later, there were many other reasons, too many to explain in a few words.

Those who are favored often grow bold. Since Aegor knew Melisandre sincerely believed in him, he held the initiative. He could afford to act a bit more “proud.” Just as a mother doesn’t stop loving a rebellious child, as a priestess of R’hllor, Melisandre would never withdraw her support just because he denied her belief or failed to cooperate.

“No. Forgive my bluntness, but I reject that request.” Aegor’s voice was firm. “I respect your faith, and I believe you have powers I don’t understand. But I am myself—not anyone’s reincarnation or proxy. If calling myself the prophesied Prince could truly help in the fight against the White Walkers, I might consider it. But in truth, it serves no purpose and brings me no joy. I cannot accept it.”

“Don’t deny it so quickly. Think carefully—who fits the prophecy better than you?” Melisandre stood up, the large ruby at her throat pulsing in the candlelight. She walked around the desk, leaned over, and reached out with slender, pale fingers, pressing them against Aegor’s chest, as if trying to feel his thoughts through flesh, wool, and leather. “Do you feel it? Your heart is burning and beating with the light of R’hllor. You are the Prince. You must face your identity!”

(These charlatans really can describe a heartbeat in the most poetic way.) Along with that thought, warmth and the scent of a woman washed over him.

If she intended to make him lose composure and reluctantly agree, she had nearly succeeded. Aegor snorted inwardly, but his expression remained calm. He stood and brushed aside her hand.

“Lady Melisandre, you now have two choices. One, continue trying to persuade me—but I promise you won’t succeed. Or two, drop this pointless argument. Whether I am the Prince or not, I will still give everything I have to defend the Wall and fight our common enemy. Isn’t that enough?”

Melisandre withdrew her hand, stood opposite Aegor, and stared at him for a while. Confirming his resolve, she sighed, turned, and returned to the other side of the desk.

She did not feel defeated.

It had taken far more time and effort to convince Stannis Baratheon that he was the prophesied Prince. But their situations were different. With Stannis, she needed him to believe it so she could push him to claim the throne and eventually travel to the Wall.

Unfortunately, the allure of the Iron Throne far outweighed the prophecy.

And Aegor? At least one thing was correct—he was already at the Wall. With her help, he was on the brink of becoming Lord Commander. Whether he acknowledged the prophecy or not would not change the course of the coming war.

“Very well. If you insist, then so be it… Let’s compromise. I hope you’ll at least publicly admit that you believe in the Lord of Light and are a devout follower of R’hllor.”

It seemed like a fair compromise, but Aegor still said no.

If, as Lord Commander, he publicly declared his allegiance to the red god, many future decisions would be constrained… and that wasn’t even the most troublesome part. Aegor mostly didn’t want to end up like Stannis, where every accomplishment would be attributed to Melisandre and said to be the result of “that witch’s” influence.

…

He suddenly found it ironic: he hadn’t even been elected yet, and he was already worrying about such things. Should he say that political infighting and power struggles are humanity’s true nature?

But all sentiment aside, Aegor didn’t want to start thinking about solutions only after problems arose.

“To face the coming crisis, we must unite every force we can. To that end, I even plan to build statues for all major gods around Crown Town in the future—creating a place of pilgrimage or prayer for people of all faiths who come to the Wall. I swore to do so back when I was being hunted by that White Walker, and now I’ve made the plan a reality. In that case, I believe the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, as the highest authority over the Wall and the Gift, should either remain neutral or conceal his personal faith.”

“R’hllor is the source of all good, one of the only two gods who can project power in this world. You’ve chosen to fight against the enemy of all living things, yet you still refuse to join the other side?”

“I believe R’hllor is the source of all good,” Aegor replied. In truth, he wasn’t so sure. “And I’ve witnessed the powers you’ve used… But unfortunately, in Westeros, those who don’t worship the red god are the vast majority. Among the great houses who control critical resources, only King Stannis has openly changed his faith. I believe someone as wise and exceptional as you, Lady Melisandre, would never be so extreme or short-sighted as to consider the help of non-believers beneath you.”

Melisandre smiled faintly, offering no answer. She had many ways to deal with non-believers, but not all of them were suited to the one she considered the prophesied Prince. Looking at Aegor’s smiling face, she suddenly sensed something she hadn’t even felt when dealing with Stannis: she would never convince this man to change his mind once it was made.

Perhaps strong will… was one of the true traits that separated the prophesied Prince from ordinary men.

(To be continued.)

***

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