webnovel

Game of Thrones: The New Kingdom

A soul of a modern person finds itself in the body of a teen in Game of Thrones. Luckily, the soul gets the foundation of Valyrians and creates one of the strongest Kingdoms in the history of the whole Game of Thrones. ---------------------------------------------- 1) I do not like characters where one person destroys an army. So, Mc will be strong but not a Super Soldier King who slaughters on his own. 2) Mc will be king. In my opinion, kings can lead the army but kings should not battle. 3) No harem. Mc will marry only one person.

PelerinliKeltos · TV
Sin suficientes valoraciones
16 Chs

Volantis

Volantis, 271 AC

2 weeks later

[Yaprak zo Loraq]

As the ship docked, I looked at the bustling port of Volantis. The cacophony of voices and the scent of spices and saltwater filled the air, as merchants bartered for goods and sailors unloaded cargo from ships of various sizes.

"Huseyin, do you know Volantenes claim that a hundred isles of Braavos could be dropped into the harbor and disappear?"

"No Master, it's the first time I've heard of it."

"I read it in a book about Volantis. At the time, I thought they were exaggerating, but now that I see it with my own eyes, their claims seem a bit realistic."

Looking at the city where I will live for a long time, I turned towards Huseyin and said.

"In this city, a new page will open in our lives. The old me, Yaprak zo Loraq, is dead. A new me will be born here."

Huseyin was a little surprised when he heard this. Then he asked, "Are you going to change your name, Master?"

"Name? No, I will not change it. However, I will not carry the same surname anymore. After my father died, all my connections to that last name had no meaning. When we succeed in the future, I want my name to be mentioned, not the traitorous Loraqs."

"You are right Master. Well, have you thought about a new last name?"

"Yes. Pariltan. Yaprak Pariltan. It means the person who will make something shine. And, I will be the one who will make this world shine against the coming darkness."

"It is a surname that is worthy of you, Master."

"What about you, have you thought of a new last name?"

"I grown as a slave, so I never had the surname Master."

"Then, I will give you one. What about Sadik? It implies dedication, reliability, and trustworthiness. It fits your character."

"Thank you, Master. I will live worthy of this surname."

"Are you still going to keep calling me Master?"

"Yes, Master."

"Even though I ordered you not to?"

"Yes, Master."

"Nevermind. Let's go before it's too late. We still need to find a place to stay."

After settling into a modest room, I got bored. There was still some time for dinner and my curiosity stirred. So, I decided to explore the streets.

The air was alive with the symphony of voices, echoing through the narrow streets. Merchants proclaimed the quality of their goods, their voices carrying both pride and urgency.

The scent of exotic spices filled the air, mingling with the laughter and banter that floated from lively taverns. It was a lively mosaic of sounds, intermingling and creating a vibrant backdrop to the city's pulse.

As I walked, I observed the people of Volantis going about their daily routines. Workers labored diligently, families huddled together, sharing meals and stories, and children played in the alleyways, their laughter serving as a reminder of innocence amid the city's complexities.

Yet, amidst the vivacity, I also witnessed the plight of the less fortunate. Homeless souls sought shelter in the shadows, their weary faces reflecting the hardships they endured. Their eyes, filled with longing and despair, spoke of dreams lost and hopes dimmed.

And slaves, bearing the weight of their chains, moved silently through the streets, their faces etched with weariness and longing for freedom.

Their existence, marked by toil and suffering, struck a deep chord within me. I witnessed the anguish in their eyes, the scars of their bondage evident in both their physical and emotional being. The oppressive system that shackled them was a constant reminder of the inequalities that plagued this city and this world.

As I continued my journey through the vibrant streets of Volantis, my attention was drawn to a gathering of people, their faces illuminated by the fiery glow of torches. A red-robed figure, a priest of the Red God, stood at the center, passionately expounding upon the teachings of his faith. His voice carried with a fervent conviction, his words echoing through the crowd, captivating their attention.

As I edged closer, I observed the diverse array of individuals who had gathered around the red priest. Their eyes glimmered with a mix of fascination, devotion, and something else that gave me pause—a glint of fervor, of unyielding faith that bordered on fanaticism. It was as if they had been consumed by the flames of their devotion, their minds fixated on the promises and prophecies of the Red God.

Some face bore expressions that betrayed a sense of awe and wonder, their spirits seemingly uplifted by the words that resonated with their deepest beliefs. Others, however, displayed a certain intensity, a fervor that teetered on the edge of obsession. Their eyes, wide and unblinking, held a hint of madness as if they had surrendered themselves completely to the power of their faith.

The red priest's voice rang out, weaving tales of divine intervention, miracles, and the imminent arrival of a new dark era, terrors of the night.

His words were like a siren's call, drawing in those who yearned for purpose, for salvation, in a city filled with complexities and inequalities.

Amidst the crowd, I noticed the glimmers of hope, mingled with the shadows of desperation. Volantis, with its stark divisions and oppressive systems, offered fertile ground for the seeds of faith to take root. The people, hungry for meaning and a sense of belonging, found solace and answers in the Red God.

As the night grew deeper, I made my way back to the welcoming embrace of the inn. The flickering glow of lanterns guided my path through the winding streets of Volantis, casting dancing shadows on the cobblestones below.

Entering the inn, I was greeted by the warm ambiance that permeated the air. The crackling fireplace radiated a comforting heat, and the sound of hushed conversations filled the common room. Weary travelers found respite in this haven, seeking solace from the vibrant chaos of the city.

The scent of cooked meals and the lively chatter of fellow patrons fill the air, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. Huseyin awaits me at a table, his face adorned with a gentle smile.

Taking a seat across from him, I gratefully accept the plate of food placed before me. The aroma of the meal tantalizes my senses, reviving my appetite.

I wasn't in the mood to talk much because of what I saw today. So it was a quiet meal.

With the meal finished and our bodies replenished, we part ways, each retreating to our respective rooms for a well-deserved rest. As I enter the solitude of my chamber, the dim candlelight casts flickering shadows across the worn wooden floor.

Before I surrender to sleep's embrace, I sit on the edge of the bed, allowing my thoughts to wander. I reflect on the people I encountered throughout the day—the sick, the homeless, and the downtrodden souls in need of a helping hand.

Tomorrow looms on the horizon, promising new faces, new challenges, and new opportunities to make a difference.

As I close my eyes, I envision the crowded streets of Volantis, the seeds of change I can sow.

Tomorrow awaits, and as I drift into slumber, I embrace the dreams of a brighter future.