11 Melee and Meeting The New Gods

"Hahahaha! Are you that desperate to enter a melee contest without proper armor? Don't tell, you didn't have enough money to buy the most important piece of it?" Asked a gruff voice belonging to a very tall man with a battle-axe in his hand who was making fun of the Transmuted prince.

The man's beard was down to his riveted mail and gambeson armor, his face looked red from wine.

"I can't believe you actually thought you should join this battle in this condition, peasant boy! Hahaha!" The man laughed again along with a few others. "You are so green I can still smell your mother's milk on you."

Durrandon grunted back and shook his head, having expected someone like him to be a part of his group coming through the gates.

"Is that jealousy that I sense? With a face like yours I assume you never got to taste your mother's milk, she must have abandoned you the moment she saw your ugly face."

The man stopped laughing and looked down at me. "You better mind your words, big guy, or we will kill you in a worse manner than we were planning."

"You succeeded in frightening me…I mean, just look at the size of that axe." Durrandon crossed his arms and snickered, his helmet muffling his voice. "It can be used to behead horses, it is so large…" He looked at the axe again before looking back down at the man, subtly casting Mind Sliver. "Are you over compensating for something you lack down below, little man?"

"Y-y-you're dead meat…y-you hear me?!" Growled the man as he almost lost his balance while some others turned to laugh at him.

Deciding to ignore the annoying man still recovering from the Psychic Damage dealt to him, Durrandon waited for the gates to open, which fortunately didn't take too long.

Going with the rule of cool I ripped the thin cloth I've been wearing, exposing my transmuted torso filled with scars.

Got that idea from one of Daenerys' followers.

Belwas, commonly known as Strong Belwas, was a tanned eunuch colossus. His nickname came from the fighting pits of Meereen where he used to fight. A former slave, the pit fighter claimed he never lost a fight and he allowed his opponents to cut him once before they die.

Not that I would allow anyone to touch me, just to show that it wasn't the first time I fought with my torso exposed.

Another minute or two, the gate shuddered and the slightest bit of light shined through the crack it made.

Soon after the gate was being pulled high into the air and the men flooded through the door into the arena while shouting their battle cries.

The arena was almost immediately packed with battles and some people on the pavilion were on their feet trying to get a better look at the Melee, already hearing cries of pain and anguish and the sound of blood splashing against the walls.

Killings were usually frowned upon, but not prohibited in the melee, and Durrandon was sure that many wanted to explore his lack of armor to kill him.

'Let them try.' We're his thoughts.

After running around the battlefield, dodging any attack while surveying the most troublesome opponents he would have to deal with to win the competition, Durrandon finally noticed the man with the axe that he humiliated before.

"You're a dead man!" Shouted the same competitor wielding his axe, lifting it over his head as he charged over at Durrandon, probably planning to split him in half from the collarbone down.

Sighing at the pathetic attempt, Durrandon kept his momentum and ran towards his opponent, very quickly for his size.

After a noticeable burst of speed he was already facing the man with his own arming sword in hand, thanks to his high Mobility Stat.

The sound of blade piercing flesh reached his ears as his blade skewered the troublemakers through the throat.

Not wanting to feel the man's blood flow down my arm, he quickly pulled the blade out and let the man fall to the ground, suffocating in his own blood.

With the 'no-killing-plan' thrown out of the window, he did not remain still, instead, reaching for the giant battle-axe of the man and throwing it at another man charging with his left hand, opening the man's face as blood splattered around him.

'This was going to get a little messy.' Durrandon concluded, a little concerned about shocking the audience, but not personally minding the bloodshed.

Speeding ahead, his legs carried him like the wind as he jumped into the air, his arming sword raised in a half-sword motion, and smacked the pommel and guard into the tallest man he could find.

His steel clashed against the man's helm and immediately rendered the man unconscious with the impact powerful enough to dent the armor.

Suddenly feeling something about to nick against his back, Durrandon quickly dodged before turning around and brought his left fist coated with an storming aura against the face of whoever was there, thus shattering the jaw and cheekbone of another man who fell to the ground bloodied.

Grabbing the long sword the just defeated man had, the prince ran off again, slashing his longer weapon left and right at men's exposed limbs, and parrying with his arming sword on his right hand, which proved to be the fastest way to render the other competitors with a respectable background unable to continue without killing.

It amazed Durrandon that some people would cry out before they actually attacked, giving away their positions to the people they wanted to surprise kill, merely stupidity at work it seems.

Hacking away the screamers and kicking away the criers, the transmuted prince placed his full strength and speed behind the kicks through the use of Ki points on top of Rage and Action Surge.

Any blunt damage he dealt caved in his opponent's badly tempered breastplates while easily breaking their rib cages.

"That's the power of a freaking giant." Some began reacting to the display of battle might.

Durrandon's slashes sliced through their gambesons like paper, thanks to his high Bladed Weapon skill, while also deciding to avoid lethal wounds if he could help on certain individuals.

And soon enough, over half the men were on the ground, either dead or incapable of continuing fighting.

Many battles were still ongoing, but Durrandon's Mental Map revealed that there was no one around him at the moment…no one who could pose a threat anyway.

Holding his arming sword over his shoulder, he scanned his surroundings and saw one man standing out from winning his battles.

He was a tall man, but oddly skinny, with a long spear in one hand and a short sword in the other, spinning his body around as people swarmed him so his spear cut people away from him and his short sword pierced whoever made it pass his spear.

It was a bad plan, in the Prince's opinion, but the man was still standing.

Deciding to cut down the competition, Durrandon broke again into a powerful sprint, the space between him and the other man was large, so it allowed to pick up more speed than before.

So like the wind, the competitor known as Fighter was next to the skilled man before he could notice, and jumped.

It was another very well accomplished jump, almost two meters into the air, which was beyond crazy for the tall man he was pretending to be.

His target eventually noticed his big frame, but it was far too late for him to react as Durrandon's fist collided with the man's face as I delivered a flurry of blows that appeared as a single punch and several teeth flew out of his mouth.

The man's eyes closed and his mind shut down before his long body crashed into the ground in a heap.

"LET'S FINISH THIS!" Fighter roared out loud as he readied his weapons and slashed at his sides.

"My gods, that man is unstoppable!" Hoster Tully exclaimed as he sat forward to get a better view. "Moving so fast for his size… no, even the smaller competitors are unable to match his speed."

Even Hoster's brother, Bryden Tully, the Blackfish, had to agree with him.

The people watching on the pavilion had been paying attention to the young man since the gates opened and the men stormed.

It was very shocking to some people watching that the champion of archery had been so effectively brutal in the melee.

Getting carried away from time to time, Durrandon stabbed a man through his stomach and opened another with a spear he picked from a defeated opponent.

The relentless battle seemed easy for me as I sped around the arena, hacking away at people's legs and avoiding every strike that came in my direction.

Many saw how powerful I actually was, it was very clear that my kicks were able to crush some competitors' cheaply made breastplates, and brutally push away the ones with better equipment.

And the fact that I jumped two meters into the air to knock out my target was enough for the people to see how special I truly was.

The King laughed as he clapped at each good strike. "This is looking good! We could've used a strong warrior like him in my Rebellion!"

Prince Oberyn was forced to agree as he found a seat next to the one pretending to be Durrandon and Alysse. "Indeed, that lad is something to behold. I don't think I've seen someone move so quickly for many years. Much less with that size."

The group observed the tattered armor of some men lying on the ground after being attacked by the bare chested competitor.

"And he certainly doesn't lack power. His kicks caved in that man's armor." Oberyn looked back at Lord Tyrell with a pointed finger. "I am definitely fighting you for this one."

Mace Tyrell smiled and raised his glass at Oberyn. "We shall see, Prince Oberyn."

Tyrion was also quite intrigued by the competitor named Fighter, as was his father who was looking at the fight with keen interest.

They have never seen a fighter so young and talented since Jaime was young, and even Jaime Lannister didn't have strength enough to kick a man, with full armor, meters away.

They were already comparing him to the Clegane brothers.

Tyrion could already see his father trying to recruit this individual back to Casterly Rock, knowing full well that Tywin always had a use for someone as brutal as this Fighter from Far Far Away.

The great Tywin Lannister had a good eye for talent, as his father would like people to say, but Tyrion mused that one need not have a very good eye to spot talent on this man.

A few rows below the Lords, Jaime Lannister himself and Ser Barristan watched the fight with great interest and amusement.

Not to mention awe as well.

The Commander of the Kingsguard possessed the eternal task of recruiting talented young men, and Jaime could see the thoughts circling Barristan's mind already.

The Kingslayer couldn't blame the older man, that young man was clearly one of talent.

An elite sharpshooter and inhuman combatant was hard to neglect.

Even Jaime himself at that age did not possess such speed and strength, nor did he at the present.

In a few years, the people of Far Far Away could very well become one of the strongest military forces in all of the Known World if they had soldiers of that caliber.

"How in the world does he jump so high?" Jaime pondered with amusement as he rested his back against a wooden post of the pavilion. "Even to someone not wearing armor, that was almost two meters in the air."

Ser Barristan looked rather emotionless as he crossed his arms. "Yes, most intriguing. If I didn't know better, I might've guessed that he's half giant."

The King's laughter could be heard by the whole pavilion. "That's a great warrior! He's nearly earned my firstborn four thousand gold dragons!" Robert looked down at his children, Prince Durrandon, who this tourney was celebrating having completed his sixth nameday. "That, my dear child, is how I expect you to be when you're of age, a true warrior!" The one posing as Durrandon nodded silently. "One day I'll teach you how to properly wield a Warhammer!"

Cersei Lannister, the Queen of Westeros, sighed and looked away, finding her husband's drunken words annoying and embarrassing, but she did find the fight interesting.

The young man reminded her a little of Jaime when they were young, with his golden blond hair and fierceness in combat.

Jon Arryn smiled at his King and chuckled at the fake Crown Prince. "This is good. I haven't seen such fierceness since the war. Wouldn't you say so, Your Grace?"

Robert laughed and raised his glass again. "Yes, Ned would like him!"

Jon chuckled and nodded. "Yes, he would."

All the way on the other side of the pavilion, Arianne held her hands together as she watched a single man take down one foe after another.

Again and again.

It scared her a little, the way he killed the first two men, and he looked rather casual about it.

But after a few mere seconds, she recognized the talent this foreigner had.

Despite his bare torso and hidden face, mud and blood, he was graceful and confident.

He was very sure of himself.

With every kick, slash, hack, or jab, a man would fall and would not get up soon.

Arianne found herself trembling, but she did not know from what.

Fear?

Excitement?

She did not know, but she knew that the man of Far Far Away was entirely at fault.

"Oh my gods…this Warrior is so brutal." Nymeria muttered as she covered her eyes from the scene. "I think that man right there is dead!"

"Of course he is dead!" Cried Obara as she leaned over the railing to have a better look. "He shoved his sword through his belly!"

Arianne ignored her sister/cousin/best friends' voices.

All she paid attention to was the fight and how 'Fighter' moved.

She observed how his muscles would flex and move as he twisted and turned and slashed and hacked.

The strands of golden hair coming outside of his helmet would wave in the air as he moved, it made him look somewhat regal and majestic while also barbaric and natural, it made Arianne want him so badly.

'I want to spend some time alone with you.' She mused with a smirk.

The preliminary round was almost over, only ten fighters remained standing.

Two hundred and ninety people were down on the ground, some groveling in pain and agony and some were outright dead, though the former did vastly outnumber the latter.

Many weapons were lying abandoned on the battleground, warhammers, swords, mace, and spears, their wielders could no longer wield them.

The entire field was treacherous, the maces acted like spiked traps on the ground and the heavy hammers could very well trip whoever's feet skimmed over them.

Then there was the blood, almost the entire field had blood on it.

There were puddles of blood where the few dead men lie, and splatter of blood on the walls from severed limbs and deep gashes.

It was a very ugly sight.

Durrandon stood alone, and much like seven of the other fighters, he was away from any other person.

They were all watching two men clash their steel.

It was a battle of warhammer and long sword, of grace and brute strength, of speed and strength.

The two had been clashing for a few minutes already, and the tall red haired man wielding the warhammer was starting to slow down.

The brown haired man, who wielded the long sword, was much quicker on his feet and had better footwork.

From what Durrandon had heard, the man's name was Daemon Sand, a bastard from Dorne.

He watched as he calmed his own breathing with a Breathing technique, taking the time to restore his partially spent stamina bar, but he knew he would only have another few seconds left.

The transmuted prince knew the other seven were waiting for the fight to finish before ganging up on him, seeing how he was the one who looked the most unharmed.

Durrandon could already feel through his Mental Map several men on his right aiming their footing to his direction, waiting for the right moment to strike.

One of them was Thoros, who was a very capable fighter and made it quite far.

Probably thanks to his flaming sword bringing literal hell to his adversaries.

But either way, Durrandon was ready.

A piercing cry sounded out from the arena as the red haired man dropped his hammer and a blade pierced his right shoulder.

Blood spewed from his body as the blade was pulled out.

He fell to the ground in a heap and the competition was left with nine people.

One more must fall before the end of the round.

"Well." Stoically started the transmuted prince with a grunt. "Before we get started, does anyone want to get out?" The other eight men turned to him, including Thoros, who had just finished his fight. "If one of you is willing to surrender, then no one will need to get hurt before going to the next round."

A large man with yellow teeth grinned as he whirled his battle-axe in his hand. "The only one who's going to be hurting will be you."

"Let's get this foreigner!" Cried another man before all eight of them charged. "He's too strong to face alone!"

Through the corner of his eyes, Durrandon saw both Alysse and Arianne standing up from where they were sitting on the pavilion, along with many others watching.

Letting the small happy feeling of cute girls being worried for him fade away, Durrandon turned to the men charging at him.

As if out of reflex, he shifted his body to the side, bent his knee and held his sword at his hip. "You people shouldn't charge so angrily." He muttered as he sped forth with his strongest kick off the ground. His body was swift and light and he was much faster than what his opponent had expected. "You are all full of openings."

All eight men saw the same thing, flashes of light reflected off his sword and maybe a hint of his emerald eyes, but that was it.

All were silent as Durrandon stood behind the eight men.

The eight men froze the moment the transmuted prince had passed them.

They were in shock…at that moment, with his sword to his side and eyes wide open, Durrandon seemed unstoppable.

It was far too fast.

It was impossible for any of the eight men to block or parry.

In less than an instant, Durrandon had swiftly changed weapons and pierced the armor of all eight men with one swift motion, a 360 degree swing that was too fast for the common eye to see.

Soon, blood started to flow from the men's side.

The armor was sliced open and after a few more seconds, they felt the stinging pain of being cut and the wetness of their blood trailing down their bodies.

Thoros of Myr was shocked and his eyes were wide open as he tried to look back at Durrandon, but he found himself and his flaming sword falling to the ground, just like the other seven men.

"When you are tired you shouldn't charge blindly." Durrandon said as he held his original sword over his shoulder and turned to face the fallen men. "Even though you outnumbered me eight to one, you gave me enough space between all of you to land a mass attack, and because you are all so tired and weak, none of you could have blocked it." Some of the fallen tried to speak or push themselves up, but just couldn't. "Don't worry, those cuts won't kill you, but your muscles will be hurting for a month or two."

The entire arena was silent along with the pavilion and the civilian viewing area.

Everyone took some time to figure out what happened as the end of the match was really so anticlimactic.

With Syrio Forel being one of the few to properly grasp the display of skill.

But soon the judges broke out of the stupor and walked up to Durrandon.

"Umm, since you are the only one still standing, there can't be a second round." The man looked troubled as the transmuted prince didn't have the decency to look a little embarrassed, once again he might have overdone it. "So umm…oh I don't know how to rule this!" He looked back at his two counterparts and they were also at a loss, something so extreme had never happened before. "What should we do?"

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU SHITS WAITING FOR?!" Shout the loud and excited voice of the King. "THE MAN IS THE WINNER, ANNOUNCE IT ALREADY!"

The main judge stammered a little at the King's voice before walking up to Durrandon.

"This man is the winner!" Announced one of Durrandon's Minor Illusions, transmuted as his Bard persona, as loudly as he could before raising his actual arm into the air. "FIGHTER OF FAR FAR AWAY IS THE WINNER!"

Just like before, the entire audience exploded in applause.

Civilians were jumping up and down, crying out their cheers of happiness, excitement and awe.

Never before had a common man managed to win both the archery and melee competitions.

It was truly inspiring for the civilians to see such an outcome, such a staggering and amazing outcome.

Fathers were lifting their children over their shoulders so they could catch a glimpse of the people's hero and the entire city was shaking in cheer and applause.

Almost everyone in the pavilion was clapping and more than a few of them were on their feet, the King being one of them.

Robert was laughing and threw his cup of wine to the side in order to have both hands to clap.

He stood from his elevated platform and looked down at the two illusions of his son, who was just smirking.

The King laughed even more and started to gesture to Jon Arryn to come take a look at him.

Prince Oberyn was also on his feet, clapping calmly with a smile on his face.

Mace Tyrell, Hoster Tully and Twin Lannister were not standing, but they were clapping, which must have been really spectacular since even the great Tywin Lannister was clapping.

Alysse and the transmuted Rhaenys were also clapping, but they were rather more proud than impressed.

"These two are certainly talented warriors in their own way!" Shouted the King as he pointed down at the transmuted Rhaenys. "They've already won us many gold dragons and won twenty five thousand for them!" Robert laughed as he clapped Jon on the shoulder. "What's a foreigner going to do with so much gold?!"

The Hand of the King chuckled and clapped along with the others. "Whatever they want to, Your Grace. With luck, he might consider settling down here in Westeros." Jon turned to his King after another few seconds of clapping. "Such young talent is rarely seen, Your Grace. Perhaps you should take him under your own house and have him swear his sword to you?"

Robert laughed and poured wine into a new cup. "That is certainly a good idea!" The King pointed at Mace Tyrell and Prince Oberyn. "Back off, Mace and Oberyn, that man will become a fine swordsman right here in King's Landing!"

Ser Barristan and Ser Jaime Lannister were also clapping for the foreigner, though they were much more composed than the King.

Barristan Semly was already smiling when he heard the King announce that he planned to keep Fighter in King's Landing.

He would be a fine addition to the city's guards and Barristan looked forward to meeting the foreigner himself.

"It looks like we will see more of him now." Jaime said with an amused smile on his face. "The King seems to have taken a liking to this foreigner."

"I do not object to such a suggestion, he undoubtedly possesses a rare talent, and we need as much talent as we can get here at all times."

The cheering continued, but almost no one in the arena clapped as loud as one girl, safe for the King of course.

"YOU ACTUALLY DID IT!" Cried Arianne as she stood on her feet, jumping up and down with a huge smile on her face.

The two Sand Snakes giggled as they watched their princess forget her lessons in public behavior while ignoring the burning glare they were all getting from Prince Doran at the moment.

After another few minutes of endless applause, the crowd was silenced by the King, who stepped to the edge of his platform and raised his hands into the air.

In seconds everyone was silent, and Durrandon had both him and his illusion looking up at the King from within the battle arena.

The judges read the silent order of the King and quickly led both Bard and Warrior out of the battle ground and showed them to the front of the pavilion, looking directly up at the King and many other lords of the nation.

The transmuted prince looked a little shocked at the resulting outcome and appeared to not know how to react under such a situation, merely having both him and his Bard illusion bowing.

"Don't need to look nervous, you two. I just want to have a talk." Robert said with his demanding voice laced with amusement.

"Of course, Your Grace." Durrandon had both of his illusions saying as he made them raise up from their knees.

"Though I must say that I'm sorry to be such a mess…" Muttered Fighter as he displayed the mud, blood and grime on his body, hair and helmet.

Robert gave a low chuckle as he held his wine cup to his lips. "Don't fret, your King has been through battles as well and has been in even worse filth. Besides, with glorious scars like that no one should bat an eye on such trivial matters." The King stepped down from his elevated platform and walked down to ground level. "So…you big guy, have become the champion of both the Archery Competition and the Melee. What are you going to do with your winnings?"

"I don't know, Your Grace. Maybe a nice supper and a warm bath." The prince gave his plain answer.

His illusionary Bard gave a chuckle and a confident smile.

The King laughed as some others chuckled. "He can do a lot more than that with forty twenty five gold dragons!" Robert stood directly in front of the illusions and his son before smiling down at them. "What do you plan to do now, after the tourney is done?"

"We don't know for sure, Your Grace." The Bard persona replied while assuming the lead. "We were expecting to travel around Westeros."

"You two can buy a house and several whorehouses here if you want!" Joked Robert. "But I have a better suggestion!" Robert turned to his squire and gestured to his sword, to which the squire handed him and he placed it on Warrior's shoulder, signaling for him to bow down again. "I, Robert of the House Baratheon, the First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, do so hereby grant you, Warrior of Far Far Away, Knighthood!"

Once again, the crowd sprang up in applause as Durrandon looked up in controlled shock.

He wasn't the only one, some of the Lords behind the King looked surprised at the sudden decision, but some were smiling and nodding.

Jon Arryn looked pleased along with Prince Oberyn and Mace Tyrell, all agreeing on the King's decision.

Arianne and her best friends were shocked but quickly started to cheer for the foreigner again, happy and shocked at his quick and rapid accomplishments.

Thankfully, Durrandon's Bard illusion hadn't done anything worthy of being knighted, otherwise the illusion would have been discovered right then.

"Don't look so shocked. Men have been knighted for less, and what you did today was truly worthy of knighthood." The King patted on my shoulder and gestured for him to stand up.

Standing up and looking the King in the eyes, he heard him say.

"From today on, you will be addressed as Ser… er… Knight? Is that fine?" Rober chuckled at the weird tradition Durrandon had fabricated. "From today on, you will be addressed as Ser Knight!"

"Thank you for this honor, Your Grace." Durrandon smiled and bowed to the King as he heard a ping, and a window popped up to him.

{PING!}

[SKILL STAR EVOLVED!]

[NEW TITLE ACQUIRED!]

[YOU ARE NOW A PALADIN!]

[YOU ARE THE SWORD AND SHIELD THAT GUARD THE REALM OF MEN! YOU ARE THE WATCHER ON THE WALLS AND THE HORN THAT WAKES THE SLEEPERS! YOU ARE THE LIGHT THAT BRINGS THE DAWN AND THE FIRE THAT BURNS THE COLD! DO YOU PLEDGE YOUR LIFE AND HONOR FOR THIS DAY AND ALL THE DAYS TO COME?]

*Whatever their origin and their mission, paladins are united by their oaths to stand against the forces of evil. Whether sworn before a god's altar and the witness of a priest, in a sacred glade before nature spirits and fey beings, or in a moment of desperation and grief with the dead as the only witness, a paladin's oath is a powerful bond. It is a source of power that turns a devout warrior into a blessed champion.

*A paladin swears to uphold justice and righteousness, to stand with the good things of the world against the encroaching darkness, and to hunt the forces of evil wherever they lurk. Different paladins focus on various aspects of the cause of righteousness, but all are bound by the oaths that grant them power to do their sacred work. Although many paladins are devoted to gods of good, a paladin's power comes as much from a commitment to justice itself as it does from a god.

[DIVINE POINTS UNLOCKED: 1]

*You have 1 Divine Point, and you gain more as your title reaches higher levels, regaining all spent points when you finish a short rest.

[CURRENT DIVINE-FUELED MOVES:]

**DIVINE SENSE: The presence of strong evil registers on your senses like a noxious odor, and powerful good rings like heavenly music in your ears. You can spend a point to open your awareness to identify such forces within 20 meters of you that are not behind total cover. Learning about the type (celestial, fiend, or undead) of any being whose presence you identify, but not its pinpoint location. Within the same radius, you also detect the presence of any place or object that has been consecrated or desecrated.

**LAY ON HANDS: Your blessed touch can now normally heal wounds. Alternatively, you can spend a point to cure the target of one disease or neutralize one poison affecting it. This feature has no effect on undead and constructs.

[*SPECIFIC CONDITION DICTATES THAT NO REGULAR PEOPLE WILL ACKNOWLEDGE THAT DURRANDON BARATHEON IS AN ANOINTED KNIGHT*]

Numerous terms and conditions were listed to Durrandon, but he didn't have the time to read it properly, as something really unusual happened.

Time itself seemed to halt for a moment as his vision was overshadowed by an intense light.

—————————————————————

DURRANDON'S POV

'What?... Where am I?' I thought to myself while noticing I no longer stood before my father, as the rarefied air made it feel as if I was standing on top of a mountain. 'Wow!'

This place gave me the mightiest sense of balance I've ever felt in my life, kinda like that joke with Rick and Morty about 'True Level'.

Thankfully Player's Mind kept my emotions under control, otherwise I might've begun shaming myself like Morty did.

{PING!}

[YOU HAVE ACCEPTED YOUR TITLE AS PALADIN!]

[CONDITIONS MET FOR OVERRULING PLAYER'S MIND IMMUNITY TO EXTERNAL MENTAL INFLUENCE!]

I was standing on a narrow stone walkway in the middle of the air.

Below me was what appeared to be the continent of Westeros, from outer space, similar to how the Tv series displayed in its intro the map of the Seven Kingdoms.

In front of me, white marble steps wound up the spine of a cloud, into the sky.

My eyes followed the stairway to its end, where my brain just could not accept what I saw.

'Look again.' I told myself. 'We're looking.' My eyes insisted back. 'It's really there.'

From the top of the clouds rose the decapitated peak of a mountain, its summit covered with a land of fertile soil.

Clinging to the mountainside were dozens of multileveled palaces, a city of mansions, all with white columned porticos, gilded terraces, and bronze braziers glowing with a thousand fires.

Roads wound crazily up to the peak, where the largest palace gleamed against the clouds.

Precariously perched gardens bloomed with olive trees and rose bushes.

I could make out an open-air area filled with colorful tents, a stone amphitheater built on one side of the mountain, a hippodrome and what appeared to be a coliseum on the other.

It was an ancient city, except it wasn't in ruins.

It was new, and clean, and colorful, the way older civilizations must've looked in their prime.

I knew that henceforth, any construction I was able to build would always strive to mimic this masterpiece, only to come short for some reason.

'This place couldn't be here.' I told myself.

A billion-ton asteroid hanging over King's Landing?

How could something like that even exist without being noticed? It should be recognized as another moon.

But here it was.

And here I was.

The septons and septas taught that afterlife was a sweet end, and sang of voyaging to a far sweet land where men and women may laugh and love and feast until the end of days in the Father's golden hall.

The Faith also holds that there were seven heavens and seven hells.

Each of the seven hells was deeper than the next. Sinners who do not repent their sins go to the seven hells; although The Seven-Pointed Star states that all sins may be forgiven, crimes must still be punished.

Interestingly, the Lord of the Seven Hells, which wasn't the Stranger, was said to command demons and practice black arts.

My trip through this cross between the Greek Olympus and the Norse Valhalla was a daze.

I passed some giggling women who threw olives at me from their garden.

Men sparring with one another in secluded areas seemed eager for new challenges.

Artists and muses were tuning their instruments for a concert in the park while a small crowd gathered.

Everybody seemed in a festive mood.

Even the ones looking like Septons and Septas appeared to be just as happy.

Several of them turned to watch me pass, and whispered to themselves.

Using Observe on them showed that they weren't relevant enough of characters so that I could recall their names.

Some even belong to houses I had never heard about in either of my lifes.

Climbing the main road, toward the big palace at the peak.

As I entered the main building I looked around only to notice that I was suddenly surrounded by pure light, incapable of locating the entrance through which I came in.

There was nothing but a blinding radiant light.

Slowly getting used to it, as fog clouds began to surround me, the few columns I was able to notice were white marble, but they were so tall that they seemed to hold the skies, which were gilded with moving constellations.

Here, every-thing glittered white and silver.

Steps led up to a central courtyard.

Past that, the throne room.

Room really wasn't the right word.

The place made the throne room of the Red Keep look like a broom closet.

"Hmm…" A male angelic voice manifested without a discernible source, echoing from everywhere. "Who is this? Doesn't seem like a soul that is ready to be judged."

Right then a massive gleaming silhouette carrying a scale assembled from behind the clouds surrounding everything.

Using Observe on it was useless.

[???]

"I believe it's a legacy of the child of the wind and sea, my dear husband." Another one appeared right beside the first one, this time sounding as a caring mother. "But I sense another lineage coming from this one."

Despite not being able to rely on my Observe skill, my Game System still allowed me to remain calm despite this ludicrous situation.

'Don't tell me…' I realized while assessing the context I found myself in.

"At least it is well behaved. But why is it here?" A more elderly female voice crept from behind me, raising a large lantern that shined just as brightly as her.

"More importantly, how did it get here?" Another male voice joined it, facing its gleaming silhouette I noticed it wielded a massive tool resembling a hammer.

"Should we interrogate it?" A more strict male voice muffled behind a massive helmet spoke up, assuming a more hostile approach with its sword resembling a tower and its armor a small mountain.

"Maybe we should just ask." A gentle and youthful female voice suggested for all to hear and the mood immediately brightened a little.

Amidst the euphonium voices, a singular shadow could be spotted. Even though it remained still, I heard its whispering chilling voice. "I know you."

Not gonna lie, that sent shivers down my spine.

I was surrounded by the legendary Gods that make up the pantheon of the Faith of the Seven.

This answered a couple of questions I had while also raising so many more.

Feeling the energy emanating from them, I dared not say the wrong thing in a time like this one.

Since I've entered their domain, if I misspoke or overstep my boundaries, I had no doubt they could blast me into dust.

So I had to make a hell of a good first impression, or at least try.

Respectfully bowing down before the deities surrounding me, I finally spoke up while bolstering my voice with Thaumaturgy. "Father above, I'm merely a humble follower of the faith of the Seven Pointed Star."

The Seven Gods remained silent after hearing my words, seemingly not sure of what to think of me.

"I hail from the line of both Dragonlords of Old Valyria and the offspring of the Sea God and the Goddess of the Wind. My father is the current King of Westeros, Robert Baratheon, and he had just anointed me as a Knight of the Seven." I decided to speak only the truth so as not to risk being caught lying, but acknowledging my godly ancestry made me feel the air surrounding me crackle and smell of ozone. "As for the method used to bring me here, I'm incapable of knowing for sure. My best guess is that I've been granted the blessing of serving as your Paladin."

"Ah, Durrandon Baratheon!" The elderly voice I came up to acknowledge as the Crone spoke up. "I remembered hearing your prayers, a brilliant lad."

"Indeed." The one wielding a massive hammer, that I recognized as the Smith, spoke up. "Your creativity is nothing short of impressive."

"Your prowess in combat seems to be following the same path." The strict male entity, which I suppose was the Warrior, acknowledged somewhat reluctantly. "From the little I know of you."

"You are the pride of your mother, even if she isn't willing to admit it. Though I can't entirely blame her, with a father like yours." The Mother spoke, her tone showing a little dissatisfaction with both Cersei and Robert.

"And you already have a few young ladies swooning over you." The Maiden remarked with a certain cheerfulness. "I've heard their prayers for your well-being."

I turned to face the one that I knew had plenty to say about me.

The Stranger, the name I accepted as mine while farming XP from killing criminals during the night.

But instead of spilling the beans or confronting me about it, the shadowy figure remained silent, apparently being enough to symbolize its acknowledgment of me.

I couldn't properly see its features given how this damn fog hid most of it, probably because their godly appearance was too much for my mortal existence to grasp, so I could only guess what the Andal personification of Death thought of me.

"But shouldn't you be too young for knighthood?" The Crone suddenly pointed out.

"Celebrating your sixth name day today, is that right?" The Mother followed with another question.

"Even if you were the page and squire of one of my best living followers, the title of Knight isn't something you earn merely by training." The Warrior argued, as if he hadn't witnessed me win both the Archery and Melee contest.

You might be thinking that I was worried with so many questions being asked.

True enough that speaking with what appeared to be Gods wasn't exactly a comfortable situation I found myself in.

But that wasn't entirely the case.

Right then I confirmed that these deities weren't omniscient nor omnipresent, even if I wasn't willing to test their power.

"I must confess before all of you that I've been keeping my inheritance of Magic from both the Dragonlords of Old Valyria and Gods of both Sea and Wind a secret from most people. My reasons are plenty, but chief amongst them is that Magic isn't well perceived by the world. Unfortunately the bloodmages of the east have not earned a good reputation with their dark actions, and neither did the dragonriders that survived the doom of their empire."

That seemed to draw the attention from all the other gods, safe from the Stranger, who despite remaining silent I could feel its cold stare upon me.

I explained what I felt comfortable sharing about my life until now, just leaving out the fact that I came from a world where all of them were mere fiction.

Since expecting them to treat me as their creator was unreasonable, I decided to avoid making claims that could be easily misinterpreted.

Suffice to say that my words had a considerable effect on them, leaving only the Stranger to ponder in silence.

"It seems you've been chosen to represent our will on Planetos." The Father spoke up with the authority to silence everyone else, but from his words I could sense that even he didn't fully understand why I've been summoned here.

"I'm ready to make my vows." I replied with my voice bolstered by Thaumaturgy, not mentally prepared to make small talk with actual Gods.

"Go on." The Father nodded.

Remembering some of the Tenets of the Paladins from my previous life, I came up with a certain Oath that I felt would please most of them.

"I pledge to enact peace and justice. Violence is a weapon of last resort. Diplomacy and understanding are the paths to long-lasting peace."

This segment appealed for the mother's mercy.

"All people begin life in an innocent state, and it is their environment or the influence of dark forces that drives them to evil. By setting the proper example, and working to heal the wounds of a deeply flawed world, I will set anyone on a righteous path."

The Maiden and her innocence was another clear target for me.

"I'm aware that change takes time. Those who have walked the path of the wicked must be given reminders to keep them honest and true. Once I have planted the seed of righteousness in a creature, I must work day after day to allow it to survive and then flourish."

The Smith and the Crone would know well about the wisdom behind my words.

"My heart and mind must stay clear, for eventually I will be forced to admit defeat. While every creature can be redeemed, some are so far along the path of evil that I have no choice but to end their lives for the greater good. Any such action must be carefully weighed and the consequences fully understood, but once I have made the decision, follow through with it knowing my path is just."

I ended my oath appeasing the Father and Warrior's sense of justice.

The only remaining was the Stranger, but from what I understood from its silence and lack of opposition, an unspoken pact has been made between us.

The Father seemed to be quite satisfied with my Oath. "So be it. Henceforth you will be known as our Redeemer."

"Forgive my ignorance, but will my prayers be answered like this everytime?" I asked genuinely curious.

The Seven Gods argue amongst themselves before the Mother spoke up.

"Dear child, you've just begun the path as our loyal Paladin. Admittedly, we weren't expecting your arrival…" This admission seemed to have annoyed the Father. "…being the first one to ever reach us this way, we will have to watch your deeds in life. But be sure that we are always listening to your prayers."

As I felt I was being sent back, I replied. "I thank you all for your blessings. I will not fail!"

The Seven Gods nodded their heads and the light overshadowed my vision again for a brief moment.

—————————————————————

BACK AT KING'S LANDING, TOURNAMENT GROUNDS.

"Well, if you want to repay me for this honor, how about you stay in King's Landing and become one of my Knights?" The King smiled as Durrandon was once again taken by surprise.

He was back on King's Landing, during the celebration of his sixth nameday.

'Shit, it's true! Everything is crooked and reality is poison!' The still transmuted prince thought to himself while keeping his composure. 'Lambs to the cosmic slaughter! Heh!' He concluded in mild amusement before finally paying attention to his father.

"We always need strong and talented young men like yourselves in King's Landing, so stay here and swear your swords to me!"

Durrandon didn't have to think for even a second.

"We are really sorry, Your Grace." His illusionary Bard began saying sincerely as he bowed respectfully.

"We would have to decline your most generous offer." The transmuted prince held his sword out. "But my sword has already been sworn."

"You don't need to be sorry!" Replied Robert with a laugh as he patted on Fighter's back. "But now that you're a knight, do you know what you can do now?"

Durrandon's eyes rolled while he had his features hidden behind his helmet.

"No, Your Grace." The Fighter asked.

Robert chuckled before gesturing down to the third and final part of the tourney area. "Now you can join in on the joust!"

The King's laughter rang out throughout the area as everyone else caught the implications.

"So how about it? Do you want to try to win another event of the tourney?"

Durrandon shook his head and bowed apologetically. "Perhaps next time, your Grace, we've got some people waiting for me and I have no training with riding a horse."

Noticing Bard's smirk, Robert laughed out loud. "Ah yes yes, nothing better than a fuck after a fight."

—————————————————————

DURRANDON'S POV

Taking the time to inspect everything I've gained after winning both competitions and visiting the Andal gods, I was surprised by more notifications.

{PING!}

[YOUR TITLE "BARBARIAN" HAS LEVELED UP TWICE!]

[FEATURE UNLOCKED!]

[YOUR ZEALOT TRAIT ALONGSIDE DIVINE SOUL AND YOUR OATH OF REDEMPTION HAS GIFTED YOU WITH DIVINE FURY!]

*As a Warrior of the Gods, your soul is marked for endless battle. If a spell has the sole effect of restoring you to life (but not undeath), the caster doesn't need to spend material components or mana points to cast the spell on you.

[FEATURE IMPROVED!]

*The storm grants you benefits even when your rage aura isn't active. The benefits are based on the environment you find yourself in. *Desert. You gain resistance to fire damage, and you don't suffer the effects of extreme heat. Moreover, as an action, you can touch a flammable object that isn't being worn or carried by anyone else and set it on fire. *Sea. You gain immunity to lightning and thunder damage, and you can breathe underwater. You also swim twice as fast. *Tundra. You gain resistance to cold damage, and you don't suffer the effects of extreme cold. Moreover, as an action, you can touch water and turn a 2-meter cube of it into ice, which melts after 1 minute. This action fails if a creature is in the cube.

[YOUR TITLE "MONK" HAS LEVELED UP!]

[TRAIT UNLOCKED: WAY OF MERCY!]

*Monks of the Way of Mercy learn to manipulate the life force of others to bring aid to those in need. They are wandering physicians to the poor and hurt. However, to those beyond their help, they bring a swift end as an act of mercy. Those who follow the Way of Mercy might be members of a religious order, administering to the needy and making grim choices rooted in reality rather than idealism. Some might be gentle-voiced healers, beloved by their communities, while others might be masked bringers of macabre mercies. The walkers of this way usually don robes with deep cowls, and they often conceal their faces with masks, presenting themselves as the faceless bringers of life and death.

[FEATURE UNLOCKED!]

[YOUR WAY OF MERCY TRAIT ALONGSIDE YOUR OATH OF REDEMPTION HAS GIFTED YOU WITH HANDS OF HEALING AND HARM!]

*Your mystical touch can mend wounds. You can spend 1 ki point to touch a creature and restore a number of health points equal to five times your title's level. You can also use your ki to inflict wounds. When you hit a creature with an unarmed strike, you can spend 1 ki point to deal extra necrotic damage equal to five times your title's level. When you use your Flurry of Blows, you can replace one of the unarmed strikes with a use of this feature without spending a ki point for the healing or harming.

[YOUR TITLE "FIGHTER" HAS LEVELED UP!]

[FEATURE UNLOCKED: EXTRA ATTACK]

*Your attacks are now twice as fast, allowing you to either double the damage of a single strike or hit two targets within your range.

[YOUR TITLE "ROGUE" HAS LEVELED UP THRICE!]

[FEATURE UNLOCKED: UNCANNY DODGE]

*When an attacker that you can see hits you with an attack that you would've failed to avoid, you automatically halve the attack's damage against you by nimbly dodging out of the way from the brunt of the attack, with a small chance of completely negating it.

[YOUR TITLE "PALADIN" HAS LEVELED UP!]

[DIVINE-FUELED MOVE UNLOCKED: DIVINE SMITE]

*When you hit a creature with a melee weapon attack, you can expend one point to deal radiant damage to the target, in addition to the weapon's damage. The damage is doubled if the target is an undead or a fiend. Incidentally, you can now use your divine points to cast spells, each spell class matching the number of divine points spent.

[TRAIT UNLOCKED: OATH OF REDEMPTION!]

*The Oath of Redemption sets a paladin on a difficult path, one that requires a holy warrior to use violence only as a last resort. Paladins who dedicate themselves to this oath believe that any person can be redeemed and that the path of benevolence and justice is one that anyone can walk. These paladins face evil creatures in the hope of turning them to the light, and the paladins slay them only when such a deed will clearly save other lives. Paladins who follow this path are known as redeemers. While redeemers are idealists, they are no fools. Redeemers know that undead, demons, devils, and other supernatural threats can be inherently evil. Against such foes, the paladins bring the full wrath of their weapons and spells to bear. Yet the redeemers still pray that, one day, even creatures of wickedness will invite their own redemption.

First things first.

WHAT IN THE SEVEN HELLS IS THAT FUCKING BARBARIAN FEATURE I'VE JUST UNLOCKED?!

Don't get me wrong, I'm all for having a back up plan for the back up plan.

But it relies entirely on the existence of an ally capable of casting a spell that even I didn't have the faintest idea of how it would work.

Raise the Dead? Resurrection? Reincarnation?

Who knows, I will have to look into it.

The tricky part of some scenarios would be to have this same ally survive a threat I wasn't capable of defeating.

As for the passive with my rage aura, it was neat in conditions that were mostly niche, but it feels more of an extension of my Thaumaturgy cantrip.

Fire resistance and extreme heat tolerance in the desert plus ice resistance with extreme cold tolerance in tundra areas saved me the trouble of grinding those skills.

And the alternative for the sea made me more comfortable with roaming the domains of my godly ancestors without being zapped with lightning or drowned by strong waves.

After brief consideration I shifted my attention towards my first trait as a Monk. Did it just make a follower of the Many-Faced God?!

No, it must be merely a coincidence.

At least I hope so.

But in any case, healing and harming weren't exactly aspects I found myself lacking. However, I guess it never hurts to be prepared.

Next… a passive feature? Like a permanent weaker version of my Action Surge.

With that I just doubled my natural combat deadliness, on top of Sneak Attack and Cunning Expertise, I didn't need to spend Ki Points, Barbaric Rage or Action Surge.

The same optimism goes for this Uncanny Dodge. I already had active features like Rage to cut most damage I took in half, and by spending one Ki point I could perform a Patient Defense.

With Alert guaranteeing that wouldn't at least be caught by surprise, this small chance of completely ignoring regular damage was just broken.

Moving on to my newest unexpected title…

Divine Sense was a welcomed boost to my Observe skill, and Lay on Hand raised my effectiveness as a healer to inhuman proportions.

As for Divine Smite, I didn't really need the extra radiant damage, but being able to spend them instead of Mana Points was incredibly useful.

And as a reward for my commitment, I've been gifted with a bracelet that carries the seven pointed star.

[HOLY SYMBOL - SPELLCASTING FOCUS]

[A holy symbol is a representation of a god or pantheon. To use the symbol in this way, the caster must hold it in hand, wear it visibly, or bear it on a shield. After praying for an entire minute, you can regain all of your divine points without needing to take a rest. This action can be performed a number of times equal to your title's level.]

Didn't really need a spellcasting focus since I've reached 100% of mana control, wasting not a single drop of Magic, but the refueling of Divine points after a brief prayer was very valuable.

But that's enough contemplation.

Right now, one of the longest and most joyful days in King's Landing was about to end.

The sun had begun to set and an orange blanket covered the city, torches were starting to stand out and the moon was slowly emerging.

Although the day had passed, the night was young, and the ale was being passed around hundreds of cups at a time.

The common folk, old and young, all flooded into the taverns and out of the inns to celebrate the incredible outcome of the tourney so far.

Young boys called out their new hero's name as they ran around the crowded streets waving sticks of wood around, their parents watching with equal pride.

Almost every common folk in the city had the foreigner of Far Far Away on the edge of their lips, never taking a break from extolling his accomplishments of surpassing the rich and famous.

Somehow, the number of sons of Lords and Knights who entered the Archery and Melee competitions was leaked to the public and now Fighter, now known as Ser Knight, had become a living legend of the lowly peasants as he managed to outmatch over a hundred trained high-borns, and even became Knights himself.

Songs and poems were already starting to emerge on the streets, spread by none other than his fellow countryman, extolling his glorious day, his name and title becoming increasingly well-known by the minute.

The city was in such a strong frenzy that I had to transmute again for another identity, so as not to be pulled into a crowd by arms fueled by frenzied excitement.

I may have caught the first few questions fired at me the first time a crowd approached, but the rest were drowned out by the hundreds of other voices yelling at the same time, soon it grew so hectic that I had to shove my way out of the crowd.

By the time I freed myself with the horde of people and assumed the identity of a common peasant, the crowd was still behind, seemingly oblivious to my escape.

I finally had time to digest what my anointing really meant.

Having mere vows granting me features and traits was really a surprise.

With the added challenge if I broke them, I could actually lose it all.

I recalled from my previous life that through an all-night vigil of prayers to restore my piety I could redeem myself.

Which would be really easy given my 'Sleep is for the Dead' perk.

Such a shameless cheat. And that's why I love it.

Though that didn't make me confident enough to risk insulting the Gods I just pledged myself in service of.

Which led me to pursue another idea.

If assuming a different identity than the one I was born with didn't make the whole process invalid, I wonder what else could I exploit in a similar fashion.

The only theory I could actually test before leaving the capital was… visiting the High Septon.

With this in mind, I immediately paid a visit to the Westerosi equivalent of a Pope.

Sure, this current High Septon, known as the fat one, was a grossly fat man who has been regarded by many lords and by the smallfolk as corrupt.

But if Robert Baratheon, the man that cheated on his wife, while showing a great deal of gluttony with alcohol, food and whores, could anoint me, then this sorry excuse for a priest should do just fine.

"You want me to do what?" The fat man wearing expensive robes and a crystal crown asked with a mocking smirk, not knowing that I was the Crown Prince.

Sure, I could command him to make me a Septon.

But influence and money buys a man's silence for a time, and since I didn't want to get rid of the man yet, I had to be more deceitful.

"You heard me right." I showed him a very heavy purse of Silver. "Make me a Septon and this will be yours. But…" I tightened my grip around a diamond I got from the Red Keep's treasury and threatened him by casting Chromatic Orb. "I will know if you aren't being serious."

The man's expression shifted comically into the one of a coward as I hurled a 4-inch-diameter sphere of energy nearby his face.

Throwing it against a nearby wall, even I was surprised by the sheer destructiveness of lightning against marble.

It was considerably more powerful than my Eldritch Blast.

Whirling gusts of elemental air briefly surrounded me, grabbing the fat High Septon by the collar I flew up to 3 meters.

"Do we have a deal?" I asked in a serious tone, daring him to decline my offer.

"I-I… it seems to be a fair exchange." The High Septon replied meekly, still shocked by the display of Magic.

"Good…" I replied coldly, still transmuted as a commoner.

Even if threats and bribery weren't the best course of action to earn another visit to the Gods, I felt manipulating him through Enchantment magic would've been worse.

{PING!}

[SKILL STAR EVOLVED!]

[NEW TITLE ACQUIRED!]

[YOU ARE NOW A CLERIC!]

[HAVE YOU HEARD THE CALL OF THE GODS? DO YOU HAVE FAITH IN A HIGHER POWER? WILL YOU BE AN INSTRUMENT FOR THEIR DIVINE WILL?]

*Clerics are intermediaries between the mortal world and the distant planes of the gods. As varied as the gods they serve, clerics strive to embody the handiwork of their deities. No ordinary priest, a cleric is imbued with divine magic.

*Not every acolyte or officiant at a temple or shrine is a cleric. Some priests are called to a simple life of temple service, carrying out their gods' will through prayer and sacrifice, not by magic and strength of arms. In some cities, priesthood amounts to a political office, viewed as a stepping stone to higher positions of authority and involving no communion with a god at all. True clerics are rare in most hierarchies.

[DIVINE POINT GAINED!]

[*SPECIFIC CONDITION DICTATES THAT NO REGULAR PEOPLE WILL ACKNOWLEDGE THAT DURRANDON BARATHEON IS AN ANOINTED SEPTON*]

And here we go…

—————————————————————

DOMAIN OF THE NEW GODS

DURRANDON'S POV

This time instead of earning an immediate audience with all of the Seven, I came to the realization that they were busy with other matters.

Not that they could directly intervene with the mortal world, but each one was the aspect of the faith of their subjects.

From my studies with the septa of the Red Keep and through some old books I had Pycelle sought for me, I can say I've reached a certain amount of understanding about this faith I've pledge myself to.

The Father represented discipline, as well as devotion to the laws that govern a society, an institution, or a philosophy. To him one must meditate on logic and justice as they serve the Gods. Believing that well-crafted laws establish legitimate hierarchies, and those selected by law to lead must be obeyed; also that those who obey must do so to the best of their ability, and if those who lead fail to protect the law, they must be replaced. In this manner, law weaves a web of obligations that create order and security in a chaotic world.

Concerned with the citizenry, commerce, traffic, and even architecture of modern civilization. The center of modern life is a sense and spirit of community, and the gravest enemies of the city are those who seek to harm the commonweal of its citizens.

The Mother focused on the vibrant positive energy, one of the fundamental forces of the universe, that sustains all life. One must promote vitality and health through healing the sick and wounded, caring for those in need, and driving away the forces of death and undeath.

Her balm of peace thrives at the heart of healthy communities, between friendly nations, and in the souls of the kindhearted. For her, one must inspire people of all sorts to resolve conflict and to stand up against those forces that try to prevent peace from flourishing.

A sense of oneness shines at the heart of healthy communities, whether bound together by friendship, blood, faith, or some other uniting force. The Mother deepens such bonds and delight in their strength. Preside over marriages and other familial bonding customs, but also nurture the emotional bonds of friendship and camaraderie. Her divine blessings bolster and protect allies in battle through these deep bonds and turn aside malign influences.

Associated with particular springs and groves, the Mother revere nature as a whole, hunting the evil monstrosities that despoil the woodlands, blessing the harvest of the faithful, or withering the crops of those who angered the Gods.

The Warrior understood that War has many manifestations. It could make heroes of ordinary people. And it could also be desperate and horrific, with acts of cruelty and cowardice eclipsing instances of excellence and courage. In either case, the deity of war watched over warriors and rewarded them for their great deeds. Excelling in battle, inspiring others to fight the good fight or offering acts of violence as prayers. He embodied a champion of honor and chivalry.

The Maiden was the deity of beauty and artistry, who preached that art was a vehicle for the soul's improvement. Beauty could both bend minds and inspire hearts. It is the force that compels others to lose control and give in to their impulses, but it could also awaken strength and determination to empower a forlorn heart. Bringing joy and hope to the world. The beacon of light that reminded mortals that some things were worth fighting for. Seeking to bring peace and amity among the world's folk. Fighting only when needed, and preferring to end fights with as little bloodshed as possible.

The Smith was the patron of artisans who work with metal, from a humble blacksmith who keeps a village in horseshoes and plow blades to the mighty legendary artisan whose magically-tipped arrows of indestructible metal have felled demonic entities. He preached that, with patience and hard work, even the most intractable metal could be transformed from a lump of ore to a beautifully wrought object. Searching for objects lost to the forces of darkness, liberating mines overrun by followers of the darkness, and uncover rare and wondrous materials necessary to create potent legendary items. Taking great pride in his work, and being willing to craft and use heavy armor and powerful weapons to protect oneself. Promoting the practical knowledge of craft and invention, including smith.

The Crone valued learning and understanding above all. Some taught that knowledge was to be gathered and shared in libraries and universities, or promote the practical knowledge of craft and invention. Some hoard knowledge and keep its secrets to themselves. And some gained tremendous power by unlocking the secrets of the world. Studying esoteric lore, collecting old tomes, delving into the secret places of the earth, and learning all one could.

Blending divine devotion and psychic power. She teaches that the mind is the greatest tool and the mightiest weapon in creation. Learning to harness one's own mental power, and using this gift to protect the faithful and smite enemies.

And finally, the Stranger, known as the unknown drifter, regarded as the most mysterious aspect of the faith, led the ones who had met their end to face the Father's judgment.

Concerned with the forces that cause death, as well as the negative energy that gives rise to undead creatures.

Watching over the line between life and death. Death and the afterlife were a foundational part of the multiverse's workings. Teaching its followers to respect the dead and pay them due homage. Seeking to put restless spirits to rest, destroying the undead wherever they find them, and ease the suffering of dying creatures.

Alright, now that I got all of that out of the way, I'm gonna be completely honest.

I wasn't really expecting to miss this heavenly place.

Don't get me wrong, this place was nothing short of a paradise, but the existence and nearby presence of walking deities wasn't exactly what I would call my favorite aspect of it.

This made me recall my reading of the books from the Percy Jackson saga during my early years.

Not that the Gods appeared to be jerks who wielded too much power while behaving as petty nobles, entitled to all the respect they felt they deserved.

The Father above didn't seem to be a womanizer and petty bully as Zeus, the Warrior wasn't seeking war and destruction, and the Stranger was courteous enough to keep my secret from the others.

Meanwhile, the Mother appeared to be aware of my complicated relationship with my family and still be merciful of it, the Maiden seemed to be the definition of pure and the Crone didn't seem to view the mortal lifetime as insignificant.

It reminded me that from the lore of the faith, these gods were once said to roam the world as humans.

And that left me curious if the process of godhood was replicable, although not to the point of stupidity to ask them about it.

Though my current theory was that the gods of all religions had to abide by a pact of no direct intervention, even if their followers were on the brink of extinction, or cause a holy war that would surely lay waste to the entire planet.

This time I took my time to enjoy myself with the souls of the ones judged worthy of living here with their Gods, a little bit of flirting here and short sparring sessions there, before eventually seeking out the attention of the patriarch of this pantheon.

"Back so soon, my Paladin?" The Father greeted me, even if his silhouette was right before me, I've come to understand that he managed to carry out his duties while simultaneously speaking with me. Not exactly omnipresence, but still impressive. "I know that time goes differently here than it does on the mortal plane, but I'm sure it must've been less than a couple of days for you."

Even though it didn't seem to be demanded of me, I still knelt before him while speaking in the most respectful tone I could muster.

Frankly I had no hopes of charming a god to do my bidding, regardless of how good I was with Enchantment Magic, but I still knew that words alone shouldn't be underestimated.

"Apologies, your divinity, but while carrying out your will I came to an impasse. As I'm sure you must be aware, my father had decided to keep the previous High Septon appointed by the Mad King he had deposed, a man unworthy of representing the faith to all of your subjects." I began my confession. "I wouldn't dare suggest who you should judge as worthy, the only thing I've come to ask is to make me one of your blessed clerics. I believe I will be able to not only carry the responsibilities of guarding the realm of men, but also to spread the word and virtues of your religion."

That's it, while bulshiting my way with speeches promoting the ideals of rebirth and renewal, truth, vigilance, and beauty.

While also reaffirming that I would become a tireless sentinel whose eyes pierce every shadow and see through every deception.

I brought into focus my ability to wield Magic.

Framing that Magic was an energy that suffused the world and that fueled both destruction and creation. And that by knowing the secrets and potential of magic intimately, I would be well suited to carry their name and words for all to hear, for magical knowledge was a great responsibility that comes with a special understanding of the nature of reality.

"You raise a fair point my child." The Father finally spoke with his angelic voice. "Since you have yet to let us down, you are still blessed with our trust."

The godly silhouette raised a hand and all the shapes of the other gods were summoned to my surroundings.

I was able to hear a few remarks about the other gods being busy with some godly matters, but as soon as they saw me, it piqued their interest.

"I hereby declare that, Durrandon Baratheon, the most recent Paladin anointed to guard the realm of men will be granted the title of Cleric with the responsibility to spread our words to those indeed of guidance." The Father declared, apparently not requiring the permission of the other gods to make his decision, but at least respecting the others enough to inform them of it.

All the other gods raised their respective Symbols of Power, and I felt the familiar sensation I had while becoming their Paladin.

The Seven Gods lowered their stares and the light of their eyes overshadowed my vision again for a brief moment.

Staring at the Stranger's shadowy figure for one last time, we both knew we would meet again soon.

—————————————————————

BACK AT KING'S LANDING, GREAT SEPT OF BAELOR.

"I-It's done." The High Septon declared, cold sweating in fear that I would actually kill him now.

My wicked smirk almost made the man shit himself, fearing for his life.

"Here!" I tossed the purse of Silver to him, very satisfied with my newest title, vanishing from his view before the High Septon regained his wit and called the Gold Cloaks.

I expected the Spider to be more alert if he heard about the ramblings of a Magic user this close to him, but there was no way for him to trace it back to me.

Besides, even when Melissandre was around in the books, he couldn't do more than support those opposing her cause.

But that's not what's important for now.

Inspecting everything I've gained after visiting the Andal gods for a second time, I was surprised by more notifications.

{PING!}

[YOUR TITLE "SORCERER" HAS LEVELED UP!]

[FEATURE IMPROVED!]

[HEART OF THE STORM!]

You gain natural resistance to lightning and thunder damage. In addition, whenever you start casting a spell of 1st class or higher that deals lightning or thunder damage, stormy magic erupts from you. This eruption causes creatures of your choice that you can see within 3 meters of you to take lightning or thunder damage equal to five times your sorcerer level. You also gain the ability to subtly control the weather around you. If it is raining, you can cause the rain to stop falling in a 6-meter-radius sphere centered on you. If it is windy, you can choose the direction that the wind blows in a 30-meter-radius sphere centered on you. This feature doesn't alter the speed of the wind.

[YOUR TITLE "BARD" HAS LEVELED UP!]

[FEATURE IMPROVED!]

*Your inspiring words are so persuasive that others feel driven to succeed regardless of the odds. While also gaining the ability to make your speech intelligible to any intelligent creature, prompting others to magically understand you, regardless of the language you speak, for 1 hour.

[YOUR TITLE "WIZARD" HAS LEVELED UP TWICE!]

[FEATURE IMPROVED!]

*You can conjure forth the mind of your Awakened Spellbook. As a bonus action while the book is on your person, you can cause the mind to manifest as a Tiny spectral object, hovering in an unoccupied space of your choice within 20 meters of you. The spectral mind is intangible and doesn't occupy its space, and it sheds dim light in a 3-meter radius. It looks like a ghostly scholar. While manifested, the spectral mind can hear and see, and it has darkvision with a range of 20 meters. The mind can telepathically share with you what it sees and hears. Whenever you cast a wizard spell, you can cast it as if you were in the spectral mind's space, instead of your own, using its senses. You can also cause the spectral mind to hover up to 10 meters to an unoccupied space that you or it can see. It can pass through creatures but not objects. The spectral mind stops manifesting if it is ever more than 100 meter away from you, if someone forcefully dispels it, if the Awakened Spellbook is destroyed, if you die, or if you dismiss the spectral mind. Once you conjure the mind, you can't do so again until you finish a short rest, unless you cast a spell of any class to conjure it again.

[YOUR TITLE "ARTIFICER" HAS LEVELED UP THRICE!]

[FEATURE UNLOCKED: RIGHT TOOL FOR THE JOB!]

*You've learned how to produce exactly the tool you need: with whatever set of tools in hand, you can magically create one set of artisan's tools of finest quality in an unoccupied space within a meter of you. This creation requires 1 hour of uninterrupted work, which can coincide with a short rest.

[YOUR TITLE "CLERIC" HAS LEVELED UP!]

[DIVINE POINT GAINED!]

[TRAIT UNLOCKED: PEACE DOMAIN!]

*Clerics of the Peace Domain preside over the signing of treaties, and they are often asked to arbitrate in disputes. These clerics' blessings draw people together and help them shoulder one another's burdens, and the clerics' magic aids those who are driven to fight for the way of peace.

[FEATURE UNLOCKED: EMBOLDENING BOND!]

*You can forge an empowering bond among people who are at peace with one another. You choose a number of willing creatures within 10 meters of you (this can include yourself) equal to your cleric level. You create a magical bond among them for 10 minutes or until you use this feature again. While any bonded creature is within 10 meters of another, they all have a small boost to their stats and skills. You can use this feature a number of times equal to your cleric level, and you regain all expended uses when you finish a short rest.

[DIVINE-FUELED MOVE UNLOCKED: CHANNEL DIVINITY]

*You gain the ability to channel divine energy directly from your deity, using that energy to fuel magical effects. When you use your Channel Divinity, you spend a Divinity Point.

**Turn Undead. You present your holy symbol and speak a prayer censuring the undead. Each undead that can see or hear you within 10 meter of you is turned for 1 minute or until it takes any damage.

**Balm of Peace. You make your very presence a soothing balm. Passively healing all common wounds and illness of those within two meters of you.

Wow, I know it's my birthday, but it seems when it rains it pours.

A natural resistance to the elements I have affinity with was a much appreciated progress, alongside an improvement with my tempestuous Magic, but the subtle control over weather made me stop for a moment and consider all this matter of godhood.

I know I have a long way to go to even compare, but as one of my favorite songs says, where's a will there's a way.

Who knows, like everything with my Game System, I will have to look further into it.

The tricky part of some scenarios would be to have this same ally survive a threat I wasn't capable of defeating.

What else?

My Bardic Inspiration became even more broken, edging on blind fanaticism to those affected by it, especially with the magical translation going on with it.

Not that I planned to not learn every single language known to mankind, but I wasn't going to complain.

Next came the fact that my Grimoire was on its way to become the Jarvis to my Iron Man.

Talking about Artificial Intelligence, is Magical Intelligence a thing to worry about?

"Do you want a name different from Grimoire?" I asked my awakened spellbook.

"Only if that's what you wish?" It replied back with its effeminate voice and ghostly appearance of a female scholar.

Crisis averted for now.

Unless she's deceiving me.

"From now on, until I find you a better name, I will call you Page." I told it while expecting to use my inability to name things as a tool to stir up some semblance of disobedience.

Instead, the ghostly scholar smiled at me and replied. "Understood master! This one is most thankful for your care!"

She's good.

Anyway, other than sharing her senses, I could even cast spells through her, even use my Legerdemain Hands to interact with things from afar.

Ok, it was pretty impressive.

Especially with the idea I got of using Page as a scout and attack drone.

But enough Skynet references for now.

As for my Artificer Title, even though I just got a ribbon feature, artisans' tools of great quality would certainly be useful to not only grind my crafting skills, but also to start hiring professionals and training apprentices.

Plus, with the synergy between both my Wizard and Artificer titles, I just came up with some theories for possible spells and elixir recipes.

Oh, also new models to work on my Runed Bronze armor.

And I couldn't wait to test them out once I got the time.

Moving on to my second divine based title…

This deal with the New Gods seems like a gift that never stops giving.

Now, let's not delude ourselves here.

Peacemaking here doesn't stand for what one might think it does.

Regardless if I'm not dealing direct damage to others, if I'm empowering and healing my allies to beat down others, I'm not a pacifist, I'm an accomplice.

That said, Emboldening Bond is a perfect training wheel for low level party members.

And doubling the total of my Divine Points wasn't something I was expecting, but since I didn't have a use for Divine Smites other than sacrificing them for casting spells, Channel Divinity just became the better option.

Turn Undead was a little cliche, but I will be damned if it isn't useful, especially if I ever found myself exploring another magical dungeon filled with undead.

Balm of Peace was a passive way of healing multiple targets while also brightening the mood to placate conflicts. Definitely an excellent combination with my performances as a Bard.

And might be the loophole needed to make someone friendly enough so I could use my Conjuration ability and switch places with them through teleport.

Oh boy, so much relying on me keeping my vows as both Paladin and Cleric inadvertently gave me the challenge I've been looking for.

Besides, let's be honest, it's not as if couldn't persuade my case eloquently enough to either be absolved from guilt or earn a small penalty such as spend an all-night vigil in prayer as a sign of penitence, undertake a fast or similar act of self-denial, an act of letting go of the self as with altruistic abstinence, the willingness to forgo personal pleasures or undergo personal trials in the pursuit of the increased good of another.

Not bad.

Not bad indeed.

Food for thought, I gotta find a Weirwood tree and try my luck with it.

Perhaps I might gain another title.

Since Knight was the equivalent of the classic Paladin, and Septon the classic Cleric… then logically this should make me either a Druid or a Ranger.

Multiclassing for the win!

Speaking of it, since the cost to raise my stats had grown so much, I would've been more uncomfortable with ever spending points on them again.

But on top of earning 5 points for every level up I went through, I got 1 point for each title level up as well.

This led me to amass a walloping amount of 70 points.

No, I was planning on bringing everything to 35, that would cost me 69 points.

The Perks I've unlocked to buy were exponentially becoming just as expensive as stat points.

So I limited my attention to both Intelligence and Stealth, since I've gained so many features to make up for my physical stats.

Not to mention that Intelligence was the beating heart of my Grinding sessions, which regulated the amount of XP I gained per action while also scaling my natural charisma.

As for Stealth depending on the situation being either a clutch or overkill, it also was an umbrella stat that included both perception and insight, basically referring to the way I passively and actively perceived the world around me.

[- 27 POINTS]

Good enough for now.

=================================

TITLE: Durrandon Baratheon (Sorcerer-Lv6/ Barbarian-Lv6/ Monk-Lv6/ Bard-Lv5/ Fighter-Lv5/ Wizard-Lv5/ Artificer-Lv5/ Rogue-Lv5/ Paladin-Lv2/ Cleric-Lv2)

LEVEL: 21 (5%)

HP: 210/210

SP: 420/420

MP: 21/21*

MANA CONTROL: 100%

CANTRIPS: Thaumaturgy/ Minor Illusion/ Minor Conjuration/ Arcane Ward/ Mind Sliver/ Eldritch Blast

1ST CLASS: Arcane Weapon/ Disguise Self/ Unseen Servant/ Mage Armor/ Sleep-Awake/Chromatic Orb

2ND CLASS: Alter Self

SORCERY POINTS: 12

BARBARIC RAGE: 4

KI POINTS: 12*

BARDIC INSPIRATION: 5

ACTION SURGE: 1

DIVINE POINTS: 4

ALLEGIANCE: The Iron Throne/ Faith of the Seven

PWR: <30>

END: <30>

MOB: <31>

INT: <31>

STL: <30>

DEF: 50* (Runed Bronze Segmented Plate armor: Piercing and Slashing +100% Damage Resistance/ Bludgeoning +50% Damage Resistance) (Dragon Scales: 25% Magical Damage Absorption)

POINTS: 43

SKILLS: ~close list~

<POWER>

-Athletics(Lv.25) …Throwing(Lv. 26) …Swim (Lv.10) …Lift(Lv.20) …Tear Off(Lv. 22) …Run(Lv. 28) …Jump(Lv.25) …Climb(Lv. 29) …Crawl(Lv. 20) …Bladed Weapon Mastery(Lv. 28) …Blunt Weapon Mastery(Lv. 10) …Ranged Weapon Mastery(Lv. 30) …Long Reach Fighting Style(Lv. 10) …Mid Reach Fighting Style(Lv. 19) …Short Reach Fighting Style(Lv. 20) …Brawling(Lv. 10) …Punch/Kick(Lv. 20) …Iron Dance Style(Lv. 27)

<ENDURANCE>

-Breathing Technique(Lv. 27) …Meditation Technique(Lv. 25) …Pain Tolerance(Lv. 26) …Heat Damage Resistance(Lv. 12) …Cold Damage Resistance(Lv. 16) …Fall Damage Resistance(Lv. 17) …Poison Damage Resistance(Lv. 10) …Illness Damage Resistance(Lv. 8) …Acid Damage Resistance (Lv. 5) …Necrotic Damage Resistance(Lv. 10) …Radiant Damage Resistance(Lv. 20)

<MOBILITY>

-Quickness(Lv. 24) …Aim(Lv. 30) …Ambidextrous(Lv. 25) …Rope Skill(Lv. 15) …Dodge(Lv. 20) …Flexibility(Lv. 15) …Balance(Lv. 15) …Acrobatics(Lv. 17) …Running(Lv. 25)

<INTELLIGENCE>

-Gibberish(Lv. 27) …Sing(Lv. 25) …Act(Lv. 24) …Etiquette(Lv. 27) …Memory(Lv. 25) …Mathematics(Lv. 29) …Poisons/Venom Knowledge(Lv. 19) …Medicine Knowledge(Lv. 25) …Healing Technique(Lv. 35) …Agriculture Knowledge(Lv. 20) …Common Tongue(Lv. 28) …Old Tongue(Lv. 20) …High Valyrian Tongue(Lv. 20) …Dothraki Language(Lv. 15) …Ibbenese Language(Lv. 15) …Old Ghiscari(Lv. 15) …Summer Tongue(Lv. 18) …Trade Talk/Bargain(Lv. 12) …Library Research(Lv. 24) …New Gods Lore(Lv. 20) …Heraldry(Lv.21) …Cartography(Lv. 24) …Astrology(Lv. 20) …Warfare Knowledge(Lv. 21) …Convince(Lv. 25) …Cook(Lv. 20) …Teach(Lv. 28) …Animal Handling(Lv. 26) …Animal Train(Lv. 26) …Decipher(Lv. 25) …Leader(Lv. 15) …Economy(Lv. 19) …Alchemy(Lv. 25) …Blacksmith(Lv. 15) …Sexual Pleasure(Lv. 23) …Seduce(Lv. 22) …Intimidate(Lv. 26) …Incite(Lv. 21) …Streetwise Knowledge(Lv. 19) …Taunt(Lv. 18)

<STEALTH>

-Hide (Lv. 30) …Subtleness(Lv. 26) …Blend In(Lv. 16) …Awareness(Lv. 26)…Observe(Lv. 30) …Disguise(Lv. 35) …Lie(Lv. 27) …Sleight of Hand(Lv. 23) …Sneak(Lv. 29) …Dirty Fight(Lv. 20) …Water Dance Style(Lv. 25)

PERKS: Player's Body/ Prodigy/ Mental Map/ Player's Mind/ Sleep is for the Dead/ Metamagic Genius/ Inventory/ Physician/ Chemist/ Linguist/ Observant/ Diplomat/ Empathic/ Actor/ Dual Wielder/ Alert/ Sentinel/ Crossbow Expert/ Sharpshooter/ Superior Technique

FEATURES: Rage/ Metamagic/ Ki/ Draconic Resilience/ Bardic Inspiration/ Action Surge/ Spell Book/ Tempestuous Magic/ Storm Aura/ Wrath of the Storm/ Magical Thinkering/ Sneak Attack/ Jack of All Trades and Master of All/ Experimental Elixir/ Infuse Item/ Cunning Expertise/ Silver Tongue/ Legerdemain Hand/ Arcane Armor/ Wizardly Quill/ Awakened Spellbook/ Divine Smite/ Divine Fury/ Hands of Healing and Harm/ Extra Attack/ Uncanny Dodge/ Right Tool for the Job/ Emboldening Bond/ Channel Divinity/ Balm of Peace

TRAITS: Draconic Bloodline/ Divine Soul/ Storm Herald/ Zealot/ College of Lore/ College of Eloquence/ Alchemist Specialist/ Swashbuckler/ Arcane Trickster/ Battle Master/ Armorer Specialist/ Order of Scribes/ Oath of Redemption/ Way of Mercy/ Peace Domain

TIME PLAYED: 6 years

MONEY: 44,015 GC/ 900 SC/ 1,300 CC/ 400 NC

($) {MARKET}

=================================

(08/10/2021)

(24/04/2022)

*Hope this chapter is of your liking.

Anything you wish to ask, feel free to do so.

Check out my auxiliary chapter if you still haven't.

Thanks as always for your attention and please be safe.

Any problems with my writing, just point them out and I will correct them as soon as possible.

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