Chapter 46: The Journey Home (II)

Robb Stark

The isle of faces.

"We've been waiting for you, outsider." A cacophony of raspy voices echoed around us, making the hairs on my neck stand up.

I knew I wasn't the only one who felt it; even Lady Elyse gasped loudly and started looking around, while the guards and my father reached for their weapons.

I panicked and tried to call all of my bugs to me. I had read the legends of the so-called Green Men, and how they defended the Isle of Faces against the Andals during the invasion, without any support.

"Stop doing that, outsider," the voices echoed again, now closer than before. "The golden monstrosity has no power in these sacred grounds."

Fuck… They knew something about Scion, and from what I knew, anyone would be both pissed and scared at the idea of him gaining a foothold in any world.

"Who are you people? Identify yourselves!" Father shouted into the woods as he drew his sword, and Jory and the rest of the guards followed his lead. Elyse stepped behind us, ready to avoid interference if a fight broke out.

I hoped it wouldn't come to that. I felt uncomfortable without my powers; even though I wasn't powerless without them, I couldn't deny that my efficiency would drop significantly.

I was trained by the best the North had to offer, and I didn't use my power in every training session since I knew I couldn't depend on them for everything. But I was only fifteen name-days old and hadn't yet peaked in my combat ability. Right now, I would place myself at the same level as Ser Oakheart when he visited Winterfell with the delegation a couple of years ago.

I wasn't the best, but I knew I was damn good compared to my peers, probably the best fifteen-year-old there ever was in the whole history of Westeros. I'd been using my insects as a source of protein and injecting myself with things that could help my growth as a fighter.

I couldn't be considered a normal human. After a long time of testing on captured bandits and the like, I was able to figure out how I could enhance myself and become a better person. However, I also couldn't call myself superhuman, since the enhancements didn't make me capable of lifting tons of weight or anything like that.

But after years of injecting myself with muscle-strengthening enzymes from ants and beetles, I had achieved fantastic results. My strength now could be compared to that of a grown man, and I still had time to keep growing. I didn't know when I would start seeing diminishing returns, but I intended to use the time I had to keep improving.

Besides muscle enhancement, I used neuro-enhancing compounds from dragonflies to improve my reaction time and cognitive functions. It wasn't like some animes in my previous life where people had skills like thought acceleration, but I was leaps and bounds better than most people.

So that's why, even though I was worried—mostly because I was sure these Green Men had some kind of magic—I hoped things could be resolved peacefully.

"You know who we are, Eddard Stark." The voices spoke again, and it sounded like they were right next to us, even though we couldn't see them. "We are the Green Men, servants of the Old Gods and protectors of this isle."

After a moment of tense silence, we finally saw some silhouettes in the distance. The beings had a somewhat humanoid form, with some notable differences.

First, they were smaller than a normal person, but I could tell at a glance that they weren't the Children of the Forest; they weren't small enough. Besides their height, I noticed that they had strange protrusions coming from their heads, akin to horns.

"What do you know of the golden monstrosity?" I asked, trying to maintain a calm façade, even though I was truly out of my depth for the first time in this life.

"Not enough, outsider. The Old Gods have been busy cloaking your presence from everyone outside of Westeros," they admitted, and my heart skipped a beat. This was really bad news. If I was a beacon that could show him the way to Planetos, it would only mean trouble—worse than I could imagine.

"Do you really know what they are doing?" I asked as I watched them approach us at a calm pace. I could finally see them somewhat clearly.

Their skin was like the bark of a tree, and they were unusually thin. The only thing "human" about them was their silhouettes.

"We are their servants, and when required, their messengers, outsider," the one in the lead said. Even though I saw him speak, we all heard multiple voices saying the same thing.

"Do you know what they're talking about, son?" Father asked, but I didn't even look at him, keeping my focus firmly on the beings in front of me.

"What can we do to avoid his notice?" I asked, hoping against all common sense that they might have an answer.

"We don't know much, as the Old Gods have been busy since you approached the weirwood tree in Winterfell. But from what we know, the parasite inside you cannot be allowed to leave your body," the leader said firmly. "And the gods require something as payment, outsider."

I tensed but tried to relax a little. I didn't know much about the so-called Old Gods since they weren't shown in the series, and most of what I'd read was from Fanon.

"What is your name?" I asked seriously. "And call me Robb, please."

"You may call me Sylvyrn, Robb Stark," he nodded with an impassive face.

I made a noise of agreement in the back of my throat. "What do they require of me?" I asked. To be honest, I would do whatever they asked. The White Walkers and whatever other problems there were in Planetos were nothing compared to the level of carnage that would occur if Scion managed to visit this world or if people started triggering left and right.

I needed to do anything in my power to avoid such a fate, and for that reason, I would trust these people until I had proof that they were lying.

"The Old Gods have grown weak since the Andal invasion severed their connection to these lands. They require you, Robb Stark, to become their champion and help them plant their roots so they can grow more powerful and shield our planet from any invasion," Sylvyrn said firmly, his voice grave as he conveyed the seriousness of the situation.

I nodded slowly. That was doable, and even if it wasn't on my mind when I planned to become a king, it was something that could be done. It would mean the war would be even harder since I would need to challenge the most well-known religion, or at least make it possible for them to coexist.

"What about the Seven?" I asked, trying to fish for more information that could be helpful.

"They care not for the Seven. It isn't required for you to drive them out of these lands. You just need to plant enough weirwood trees and promote the religion," Sylvyrn nodded emphatically, clearly understanding my confusion. "They are outsiders, but the Old Gods are gods of nature, and they have adapted to their existence. The golden being is not so benign as the Seven."

"I understand, and I will make it happen," I said firmly, knowing we needed to avoid this at all costs. "Is there anything else, Sylvyrn?" I asked.

"You just need to seal the pact, Robb Stark. Just like your ancestors did in the past on this isle," he said mysteriously.

"Are you sure about this, Robb?" my father asked. I nodded—this was something I needed to do. I couldn't be the one responsible for the ruin it would bring to Planetos if Scion targeted us.

"Lead the way, Sylvyrn," I said as I started walking toward them.

The others tried to follow, but the leaves began moving on their own, closing the path.

"Camp here, I'll be fine!" I shouted, hoping they could hear me over the noise.

Following behind them, I kept silent, contemplating how this decision would change the future. I truly hoped I was making the right choice.

The group led me to a tree in the middle of the isle, and I noticed the difference in the atmosphere; the air felt heavy compared to outside.

Sylvyrn handed me an empty bowl without saying anything, and I just looked at him in wonder as a knife rose from the very earth in front of me.

"Put some blood in the bowl," he instructed, and nervously, I followed his directions.

When I had enough blood, another of the Green Men approached me, spreading a green paste on my wound. I gasped at the itchiness I felt instantly, and then he removed it with a cloth, and I was amazed to find the injury gone.

"Submerge your hand in the blood and place it on the face of the tree," Sylvyrn continued calmly.

As I did so, I couldn't deny that I was afraid of what was going to happen, but the next thing I knew was darkness.

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