Chapter 72

In time, the Brotherhood of Assassins evolved into a secretive death cult, worshipping a deity known as the God of Death, an entity with various faces but one overarching identity—death itself. Unbeknownst to Bahamut, another existence lurked beneath the surface—the Corpse Queen.

While Yi Ti claimed descent from the Great Empire of Dawn, a realm ruled by Dragon Lords, the reality was different. They were natives who later ascended to power. The genuine heir to the legacy of the Great Empire of Dawn was Valyria, a truth that the Corpse Queen despised. Her profound hatred stemmed from the man who had turned her into the Corpse Queen, leading her to harbor a burning desire to prevent the rise of a second Great Empire of Dawn, particularly one with the power of the Great Fire Other.

To execute her plan, the Corpse Queen brainwashed Northerners, men with the innate ability of skinchangers who had inherited her ancient knowledge. These individuals became the first Faceless Men, instruments of her vengeance against the legacy she abhorred. Over time, as the Andals invaded the North and the region lost its magical knowledge, the Faceless Men, with their blood sacrifice rituals, preserved the ancient arcane wisdom that had once thrived there.

Driven by her desire to ensure the dominance of a single god, the Corpse Queen fabricated a religion that preached the worship of death, positioning herself as the embodiment of death itself. Through this carefully constructed belief system, she sought to manipulate minds and foster a worldview where there was only one god—the god of death, of which she considered herself the living manifestation.

Although Bahamut remained unaware of the Corpse Queen's involvement with the Faceless Men, he held a conviction that the Boltons, the former Red Kings, possessed abilities akin to those of the Faceless Men. Their strength and power were formidable, presenting a significant challenge even for the Starks, the former Kings of Winter who held the bloodline of skinchangers.

The enigmatic Boltons, with their uncanny strength, waged a relentless rivalry against the Starks, conquering much of the North. The Starks, known for their innate skinchanging abilities, found it challenging to confront the Boltons, who seemed impervious to their assaults. The Red Kings, with their brutal tactics, went so far as to burn Winterfell and flay Starks, inflicting immense pain on their rivals.

In a twist of reality, the Boltons couldn't physically invade Winterfell, but they devised a cunning strategy. They would disguise themselves as Starks they had flayed, infiltrating Winterfell and setting it ablaze. This tactical approach made them a terrifying and elusive adversary for the Starks, contributing to the prolonged 1000 years of rivalry.

Delving into the true nature of the Bolton's actions, Bahamut discerned that their practice of skinning individuals went beyond mere torture—it was a means of stealing magical abilities. The act of skinning a person equated to the theft of their magical essence, particularly the power of skinchangers. This revelation shed light on why the Boltons relentlessly targeted the Starks, aiming to control the animals these skinchangers could command.

While the Boltons had lost much of their magical prowess over time, the presence of Ramsay, who seemed to possess a pure bloodline, intrigued Bahamut. Ramsay's potential, as long as it could be harnessed and controlled.

Driven by curiosity, Bahamut decided to enter the Dreadfort, holding the sleeping Aithusa in his arms. As he approached the formidable fortress, Bahamut employed his magic to conceal his presence, slipping into the castle unnoticed by the guards.

Dreadfort stood as a robust stronghold, its high walls adorned with triangular merlons resembling sharp stone teeth. Bahamut pressed forward, determined to uncover the secrets held within the walls of the Bolton fortress. He stealthily made his way towards the hall, eyes keen for any hints that might reveal the mysterious practices of the Boltons.

As he ventured deeper, a distant scream, dimly echoing through the corridors, reached his ears. It was a woman's voice, the haunting sound suggesting that the Boltons were engaged in their own peculiar form of entertainment. Bahamut followed the anguished cries, leading him down to the basement, where the legacy of the Red Kings was entombed.

Descending further, Bahamut continued to navigate through the dimly lit chambers until he reached a room bathed in a soft, eerie light.