Game of Thrones: I Created the Weave

It was evening.

Hooves thundered, horns blared, and voices roared.

Looking out, the Kingsroad to the south was filled with heavily armored cavalry. They were arrayed in three columns, turning east at the fork outside Bronze Gate and heading straight for the castle gates.

The countless tents set up outside Bronze Gate were startled awake.

Figures lifted the canvas flaps and emerged from their tents, seeing the mighty cavalry force ride past. They couldn't help but cheer from the bottom of their hearts.

They were the infantry ordered to assemble here, a total of ten thousand men.

There were too many people.

Although Bronze Gate was a sturdy fortress, it couldn't house so many people. Furthermore, space had to be reserved for the cavalry protecting His Majesty, so the infantry could only camp outside the city.

Living in the wilderness was not pleasant.

The earliest arrivals had been sleeping in tents for nearly a month. Their bedding was long since dirty and messy, full of fleas, and smelled awful.

Coupled with the monotonous training and unappetizing food of the past few days, all the soldiers were impatient.

Everyone was looking forward to breaking camp soon.

Everyone knew that Lord Tyrell of the Reach had already gathered a hundred thousand troops to support His Majesty. Simply marching to the gates of King's Landing and winning would be as easy as spitting.

Then they wouldn't have to suffer in tents anymore.

Everyone would live in the prosperous King's Landing, enjoying warm and clean beds, delicious food, endless wine, plump prostitutes who would throw themselves into their arms, and lively banquets.

Finally, everyone would have perfectly fulfilled their duty, paid the blood tax, and returned home safely and happily.

Perhaps they could even earn some Silver Stags, buy a few more fields, and build a mill.

Or even be lucky enough to capture a Knight or a Lord, be favored by the lords, stay by their side to serve, or even be knighted.

Of course, many said there wouldn't be any real fighting.

His Majesty Renly had a hundred thousand troops.

The little king in King's Landing, bah, the False King whom the Gods would not tolerate, probably wouldn't have the guts to cling to the Iron Throne.

Some bet that they would see an empty city when they reached King's Landing, with the Lion's men having scurried back to the Westerlands, leaving only the common people in the city.

Others thought King's Landing would beg His Majesty for peace.

His Majesty would show mercy, sit on the Iron Throne that rightfully belonged to him, and allow the Lions to shrink back into the Westerlands.

The False King whom the Gods would not tolerate would join The Faith to atone, or don the black and join The Night's Watch, guarding The Wall in the freezing cold for the rest of his life, until death.

Still others believed they wouldn't be let off so easily. The Lannisters must compensate with countless Gold, the False King would be executed, all traitors would be brought to justice, and those who had committed crimes would pay the price.

In short, no one considered failure.

This would undoubtedly be an easy and comfortable war. No one, or very few people, would die, and the rewards would be immense Wealth and honor.

All it required was a decree from His Majesty.

At this moment, looking at the long line of cavalry, everyone knew that the decree was not far off.

The approaching cavalry force suddenly changed.

Large groups of Knights were clustered together, with tall golden banners overlapping and intertwined, obscuring the figure in the middle of the Knights.

It wasn't until that set of armor the color of a green forest and a helmet with golden antlers stepped out from behind the banners.

Renly Baratheon.

The Soldiers shouted and cheered in succession, "Long live His Majesty!"

"Certain victory!"

"Long live Baratheon! Long live His Majesty Renly!"

The voices gradually unified, growing louder, until tens of thousands of people shouted in unison, shaking the plains, intense and powerful, as if invincible.

Renly pulled the reins, leaving the road and stopping at the roadside, returning a sincere and generous smile to the surrounding Soldiers. He even allowed every single one to kiss his war boots.

It wasn't until the smell of dinner wafted over the camp that the area around Renly gradually quieted down.

The Earl of Bronze Gate, Ralf Buckler, stepped forward to pay his respects, "Your Majesty, your arrival is a great honor for Bronze Gate. House Buckler has prepared the finest chambers, hoping to slightly alleviate Your Majesty's journey."

"There is no need. Seeing the Warriors in high spirits and good health has already satisfied me and dispelled my fatigue."

Renly rode forward, with the Earls around him following closely.

"Your Majesty, the seven thousand infantry stationed at Haystack Hall are also in high spirits, all eagerly wishing to kill the enemy for Your Majesty and overthrow the False King."

Ser Sebastian Errol, heir to the Countess of Haystack Hall, Shirella Errol, reported, his expression like a puppy trying to please its master.

Renly nodded in approval.

Ser Sebastian Errol immediately looked satisfied.

Bryce Caron, Earl of Nightsong, stepped forward to ask for instructions, "Your Majesty, should the two thousand cavalry at Massey's Hook be recalled? Most of the people there have left."

"Wait a little longer and see how King's Landing reacts."

Renly reined in his horse and looked back at the Earls. "My Lords, victory awaits us to claim, but we still need to be careful of the pitfalls underfoot and avoid stumbling and suffering unnecessary injuries."

"Before new reports arrive from the North, let us rest well in Lord Buckler's Bronze Gate and enjoy the feast," Renly said with a light chuckle. "After this, the only place to find such enjoyment will be the Red Keep."

The Earls smiled and followed Renly into the city.

The entire process was faithfully projected onto the main screen of the Surveillance Hall. It wasn't until the gates of Bronze Gate were tightly shut and no one else was visible that the projection ended.

"Everyone stay in your seats, no talking, no running around, await the distribution of the beacons!" the steward distributing the beacons instructed loudly.

Hot Pie and the others, having undergone rigorous training, were long accustomed to such commands. They maintained silence with tacit understanding, sitting upright, their gaze fixed straight ahead without glancing sideways.

But no one could remain calm inside.

Hot Pie was no exception.

Like the other ninety-nine recruits, he was eagerly anticipating his beacon and the important task that would follow.

Renly and five thousand cavalry had arrived at Bronze Gate.

Recalling the flood of cavalry, the noble sigils he had only seen on the Light Screen, the unfamiliar Earls and Knights, and the usurping False King Renly, Hot Pie's heart still couldn't stop racing with excitement.

He knew what this meant.

The rebel army of the Stormlands had fully assembled and could march out at any moment, unleashing a torrent of blood and fire.

He, from the Security Bureau, would witness history and change history.

"Hot Pie, yours."

The steward placed a shiny square steel plate in front of him. It was a beacon.

Everyone in the Security Bureau knew that the "Eyes" could see the entire world, and the beacon determined where the "Eyes" would look.

Hot Pie picked up the beacon and examined it carefully. There was no text; it was a Living Beacon.

Fixed Beacons had names engraved on them. Placing them on the "Eyes" would only show a fixed location or person, but it saved time in identifying the target.

Living Beacons could see many places and people, but finding a target was more troublesome.

This was the first time Hot Pie was allowed to use a Living Beacon.

Taking a deep breath, he placed the beacon onto the raised circular surface on the side of the screen, entered his password, and the screen immediately began flashing various images.

Wilderness, dense crowds, villages, and castles.

Hot Pie searched for the gates of Bronze Gate.

Ding~

The familiar notification sound rang out. Hot Pie's attention instantly returned to the Divine Grace Light Screen.

The brilliant task at the top of the Light Screen had changed its name: "Holy Land Radiance: Act Two - Divine Grace Vast and Mighty".

Hot Pie glanced out the window.

The sun had already set.

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