Game of Thrones: I Created the Weave

Chapter 137: The Golden Blood on the Figurehead



The "Divine Grace" launching Ritual on Sunday was held on time.

Armor stood in formation, declaring its nobility.

Spears lined up, blessing its power.

Horns blared, celebrating its birth.

The wide, sprawling docks of King's Landing Port were already packed with people who had come to witness the ceremony.

Besides the officials and nobles who had received advance notice and were permitted to leave the city, the commoners living outside the city had also gathered at the docks, not even bothering with the work they had in hand.

No one could remain calm after seeing it. No one could bear to let it leave their sight.

People sighed with heartfelt emotion.

"The Gods bless."

"What a magnificent Miracle this is!"

"Something like this can actually be a warship that floats on water? Who can compete with it?"

"Divine Grace Vast and Mighty!"

"Nothing is impossible, the power of The Gods is much greater, how can mere mortals fathom it?"

Excited and astonished words never ceased.

People repeated themselves over and over. Even after listening to praise for half the day, they couldn't help but express their own admiration, trying to slightly vent the surging emotions in their hearts so they wouldn't be so excited they would faint on the spot.

From last night to this morning, some people were fortunate enough to witness the astonishing construction process of the "Divine Grace".

So they immediately described it vividly to the crowd around them, their faces clearly showing pride and excitement, as if they were afraid others wouldn't notice, as if they themselves were the owners of this creation of The Gods.

The not-so-secret construction process of the "Divine Grace" quickly spread through the crowd on the docks.

Again and again, people repeated the Miracle they had seen, until everyone had heard every description, remembered it in their hearts, and could even recite it word for word.

Everyone knew.

A long, endless line of carriages transported countless crates, piling up into small mountains by the docks in the evening.

Sailors and Captains said it was probably more than the total amount of cargo the Port handled in a whole day.

Then, the golden river water was covered by a layer of shadow. It was logs floating down from the upper reaches of the Blackwater River, sturdy and thick, very fresh, some still with dense crowns of leaves.

At least a large area of forest had been cut down, enough to feed several hundred people if used for farming.

All the logs floated downstream but were blocked near the small mountains of crates downstream of the docks, almost filling that section of the river and turning it into land.

Then, the Miracle descended.

Adults wearing white capes with golden Six-Pointed Stars performed Divine Grace, and the cold, damp logs moved on their own, climbing onto the shore as if they had Life.

Once on shore, the logs seemed to turn into smooth liquid, approaching each other and melting into a mass.

The logs were as soft as a lump of mud at this point.

Many pairs of invisible hands kneaded and molded the mass of logs, shaping the wood as if building a mud castle.

The Shipwrights pointed to the wooden frame beneath the "Divine Grace" and said, This is it.

Something they had never seen before, but this was a Shipyard, a Shipyard created by Divine Grace, carrying Divine Grace.

This Shipyard was made up of tightly arranged concave wooden frames. Each frame was four or five feet wide and five or six zhang long, and when combined, they were shaped exactly like the bottom of a ship.

After recognizing the shape of the ship's bottom, all the Captains, Sailors, Shipwrights, and anyone who had lived by the water were immediately shocked and questioned.

There's a ship this big?!

What happened next was even more astonishing, completely unimaginable.

The adults in Six-Pointed Star capes approached the crates, and the wood that made up the crates flowed to the outer edges, leaving only blocks of steel and countless swords, spears, axes, and halberds from within the crates.

Immediately after, all the steel melted, not into hot molten steel, but still emitting a cold white light.

The steel climbed onto the wooden frames, like liquid flowing upwards, like vines climbing trees, like the tentacles and suckers of a sea monster.

People had never seen so much steel adhere so tightly together.

They must have been very happy, climbing to the highest point with cheers and excitement. When there was no path, they stepped on each other's bodies to continue upwards, gradually connecting into a mutually supporting skeleton, taking on the slender form of a warship.

The steel hull lay on the Shipyard.

After this, the adults in Six-Pointed Star capes stayed in the Shipyard for a very long time, until the sky turned white again, until all the surrounding steel and wood disappeared.

People only knew that all the materials had become part of the warship.

As for the thrilling changes inside the hull, how many intricate structures, sturdy rooms, and terrifying weapons there were, it was completely invisible, and could only be imagined.

However, what people knew and saw was enough to be told as mythology and epic.

An invincible warship cast from steel.

Who could break its side? Who could withstand its ram? Who could set its Deck on fire? Who could overturn its body?

It would become the absolute overlord of the sea.

Redwyne's fleet? The Iron Fleet? These were no longer enough for comparison. Only the massive fleet of Braavos was qualified to compete.

As for victory and defeat...

People's eyes were fixed on the Divine Grace on the shipyard. As long as it could be successfully launched, and joined by dozens more companions, no matter how many warships Braavos had, they would just be like children who hadn't grown up yet.

Everyone was mesmerized, admiring this magnificent and majestic creation, as if they could already see the day the Westeros Fleet would be invincible.

The Divine Grace stood proudly on the shipyard, silently and haughtily.

The auspicious hour had arrived.

Tyrion walked behind King Joffrey, holding a bottle of Golden Wine from The Arbor in his hand. "Your Majesty, it is time."

Tyrion's reaction to this terrifying warship was no different from most people on the dock.

This Divine Grace was not built by the Holy Creation Sorcerers of the Engineering Bureau. Tyrion had only seen its appearance this morning.

Only then did Tyrion realize that Hannah's Logistics Bureau also had a group of Holy Creation Sorcerers, and their tasks were even more important, far more glamorous than building houses and repairing sewers.

Thinking of the specialized weapons and equipment for the Holy War Army that Hannah had mentioned in her report in the Throne Room, Tyrion became even more curious.

But now, the only protagonist was the King's Divine Grace, which was about to be launched.

Tyrion respectfully presented the offering in his hand.

Joffrey took the crystal clear Golden Wine and turned to look at Sansa beside him.

"Sansa, my Queen, your kindness will bless its destiny, your beauty will soothe its solitude, and your nobility will glorify its journey. Let us witness its birth together."

Sansa nodded happily and linked her arm through Joffrey's right arm, walking to the bow of the ship.

The two stopped in front of the figurehead, looking at the ten-foot-tall figure of the Seven Gods' Maiden with her arms crossed.

Everyone on the deck fell silent, saluting the King, the Lady, and the warship with their gaze, witnessing the successful conclusion of the Ritual.

According to tradition.

Joffrey acted as the Cleric, stroking the figurehead seven times and offering seven prayers.

Then, Sansa threw the wine bottle in her hand with force.

Crack

The wine bottle shattered, and the golden liquid flowed and dripped freely over the figurehead's body.

Like golden blood.

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