Chapter 86 - Leda, The Blade of Aenar (I)

"Leda, Sword of Aenar." Aenar declared, looking at the naked woman, holding the legendary sword Dawn in her hands.

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Entering the room on the top floor of one of the towers in High Garden Castle, Aenar watched as Leda inspected her surroundings, checking for any possible hidden threats. Satisfied, he flopped onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.

"What do you think of House Tyrell, my Lady Commander of the Kingsguard?"

Leda continued to examine the room, running her fingers along the walls, searching for secret passages, before answering coolly:

"I don't like Lady Olenna. She seems irritating. Lord Mace is mediocre in battle, but reasonable in the administration of his lands. Lady Alerie lives in her own world. Lord Garlan is a decent warrior, but lacks the aggressiveness needed to command real respect on the battlefield. As for Lady Margaery and Lord Loras... they both want to lie with Your Grace."

She touched a suspicious stone on the wall and narrowed her eyes as she noticed a slight change in the texture. Without interrupting her analysis, she continued:

"Ultimately, House Tyrell is weak. They don't control the Reach completely. Houses like Hightower and Redwyne are extremely powerful and actually hold more influence than the Tyrells themselves."

Aenar smiled at Leda's blunt assessment. The girl rarely spoke much, but when she did, her precision was cutting. As for Margaery and Loras, he rolled his eyes. He repeated to himself: he only liked women. Loras might feel some impulsive attraction based on lust, but for Aenar, there was no romantic or physical interest in another man.

Still, Leda was right. The Redwyne Fleet was the strongest in the kingdom. The Hightowers had the support of the Faith of the Seven and colossal influence. If it weren't for the value of loyalty oaths in Westeros, Aenar wouldn't be surprised if the Tyrells were betrayed and replaced in some well-planned coup.

Suddenly, the sound of moving stones echoed through the room.

Aenar raised an eyebrow, watching Leda curiously. In front of her, a secret passage revealed itself, large enough for a tall adult to pass through without difficulty.

Leda nodded, pleased to have found what she was looking for. It was common for ancient castles to have hidden passages for strategic escapes. High Garden, built in the Age of Heroes, would certainly have several of them.

After closing the passage, she resumed her inspection of the room, but no other wall, pillar or floor concealed secrets like that.

"Take off your armor and clothes. Let's start your physical enhancement."

Aenar sat down on a chair, watching her with an amused look.

But his smile soon gave way to a disappointed expression as Leda, without hesitation, began to undress with complete indifference. She removed each garment with the calm of someone who was simply shedding unnecessary weight without any sense of shame at undressing in front of a man.

"I expected you to blush like a lady," Aenar commented, rising from his chair as he circled the naked body of the Lady Commander of his Royal Guard.

Leda rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her small, firm breasts.

"Forgive me for not blushing like a virgin lady, Your Grace."

Aenar laughed. "You're forgiven."

She rolled her eyes again. Her king's narcissism and conceit were truly unshakable.

As he watched her, Aenar couldn't help but notice the scars all over her body. Most were concentrated on her belly, some on her arms and shoulders. They weren't large, the largest was no more than five centimeters, but they had all been made by something sharp.

He reached out, touching the largest scar, located on her abdomen. His fingers glided over the skin for a few moments, studying the mark with a curious gaze, before moving away.

Throughout the process, Leda remained impassive. For her, the body was just an instrument. She didn't see herself as a woman, but as a sword. And that was how she preferred to live. It was easier to live as a sword than as a woman.

"I can alter your body in the process," Aenar said, stopping in front of her, staring at the girl in her cold gray eyes. "Do you wish to change anything in particular?"

Leda reflected for a brief moment, but her answer came without hesitation.

"Speed to the extreme. And, if possible, eliminate my period, Your Grace."

Aenar raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"You'll be infertile if I do that."

"I don't care. I'm your sword and nothing more. Swords don't need to give birth to heirs."

Leda replied with a cold, indifferent, almost inhuman tone. Her gaze remained empty, devoid of any emotion. Only when her eyes landed on Aenar did her expression change. There was something there, not love, not desire, but absolute devotion and unbreakable loyalty.

Aenar let out a soft sigh, his fingers gliding gently over Leda's androgynous face.

"Thank you, Leda. I promise to be a worthy king, worthy to be the master of your blade."

Then his gaze turned sharp.

"Kneel."

Without hesitation, Leda obeyed. Her slender body descended to the stone floor, her knees touching the cold surface while her head remained raised, firm.

Aenar lifted Lady Lya, the blade making a horizontal cut across his own wrist.

Scarlet blood oozed from the wound, not in mere drops, but in torrents impossible for an ordinary human being. The crimson liquid pulsed as if it had a life of its own, flowing, moving, gradually covering Leda's naked body like an organic, burning veil.

"It's going to hurt, Leda."

His voice, although gentle, carried an overwhelming weight.

"It will be a worse pain than giving birth. But if you endure it, you will no longer be a mere human. You'll be something greater. You will live far beyond the expectations of any mortal. You will have powers derived from my blood."

He leaned in slightly, his purple eyes staring at her with intensity.

"In a sense, you will be my daughter. Just as I will be your father."

The Enrichment Ceremony was no simple ritual. It was a brutal process, where only those with truly determined minds and character could emerge as something more. Those who failed... ceased to be human. They became deformed aberrations, irrational beasts devoured by the very force they were trying to master.

Aenar would not perform this ritual lightly. His wives and mistresses would be subjected to this process one day, but only when they were properly prepared. His troops would undergo a similar process, but on a smaller scale and would not be as powerful as the Primarchs, the new Stage of human evolution.

At the moment, apart from Titus, Sigismund, Barristan and Leda, Aenar didn't see anyone else strong enough to withstand the process without prior training.

The pain came like a raging storm.

Leda's bones broke one by one, only to rebuild themselves stronger. Her blood seemed to boil in her veins, burning her from the inside out. Her senses collapsed, sight, hearing, touch, all blending together in absolute chaos, as if her own body was becoming something new and unknown.

But in the midst of that maelstrom of pain, she heard Aenar's voice.

And it clung to her like a beacon in the darkness.

Her lips remained firmly closed. No moan escaped. No sign of weakness was shown.

She would endure.

She would survive.

For it was the king's sword.

And good swords don't break.

Aenar watched the whole process with a calm gaze. Unlike Titus and Sigismund, who didn't feel much because they were seriously injured, Leda was feeling a pain that was simply too difficult to describe with human words.

And unlike both of them, Aenar hadn't drunk the Water of Life when he enhanced both of his generals. Leda was practically performing a 2.0 ceremony, modified and improved, but incredibly more intense than Titus and Sigismund had been.

But the rewards were also twice as valuable and that's what happened to Leda.

Opening her eyes, Leda's eyes were still gray, but there was something else in her eyes, blue rays could be seen running through her irises.

The air around her crackled, small, thin gray rays gradually surrounded her naked figure. The smell of ozone filled the air. A smell reminiscent of rainy times during storms.

Her size hadn't grown, she was still relatively short like any ordinary woman, but the intensity of her aura was simply impossible for any powerful man or woman to match.

Aenar couldn't help but nod with satisfaction at his masterpiece. Leda had developed psychic powers before Titus and Sigismund, which was incredible in his eyes.

He had already theorized that those who baptized themselves using his blood would develop powers. Just like the Dragonlords of Valiria. But a process that took hundreds or thousands of years to happen with Blood Magic, happened in mere moments.

And although the chances of dying exceeded 95%, the results satisfied Aenar. He only had to create a simplified version with a 30% mortality rate.

"Leda, The Blade of Aenar." Aenar declared, seeing the girl in front of him.

His cousin had become something truly incredible in human eyes.

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