Chapter 107: Have You Heard of the Lord of Light?

Wright had finished crafting pieces of Valyrian steel armor and weapons, and the sun was beginning to set. It had been a long journey to this ruin, so no one planned to leave that day. They would spend the night there. The tents for the noblemen and wealthy merchants had already been set up by the slaves. It wasn't dark yet, and they couldn't wait to drink a bottle of Might before retreating into their tents with their female slaves.

Wright, having worked all day forging, was exhausted, but the armor and weapons he had crafted were only half-finished, as they hadn't been enchanted yet. Based on the Valyrian steel weapons he had encountered so far, none of them were older than a thousand years, and all had a purification enchantment. Wright speculated that there were likely weapons with stronger enchantments, which hadn't been sold and might only be in the hands of the powerful families, kept hidden from the public. But with one volcanic eruption, they were all destroyed.

Wright planned to wait until these nobles had left, then take the equipment to the Smoking Sea. The place was full of pirates, and perhaps he might run into those pirates who had escaped with Euron last time. Wright held no mercy for pirates; they plundered, killed, and kidnapped women without remorse. If he couldn't capture them to face trial, he was fully capable of acting in King Robert's name and sentencing them to death. It would be a waste to let them live, and their souls could serve his enchanting purposes.

He glanced again at the excavation pit outside. "If what Hermaeus Mora said is true, and someone came to this world five thousand years ago, maybe we could discover an Azura Star this time!" However, after five thousand years, the chances were very slim.

Nymeria, still riding the high of her excitement, was walking around the camp in her new armor, adjusting to it. The armor he made for her was a bit ill-fitting in some places, and it still needed leather padding inside to prevent chafing.

Wright drank from the water bottle Tyene had handed him, and the two of them strolled slowly toward the red tent. At the small hill near the tent entrance, Melisandre was already waiting.

"Lord Wright, the magic array you set up is fascinating. I don't fully understand its intricacies. Could you explain it to me?"

If Nymeria had a toned, athletic build, and Tyene had a fair, balanced figure, Melisandre was all fiery and seductive.

"Wait, why am I thinking about this?" Wright snapped back to reality. He wasn't the type to be distracted by every woman he saw. There were too many men who had ruined their lives and even died abroad because they couldn't control their impulses.

Wright carefully checked his internal magic and found no signs of illusion magic, but he did feel a lingering heat. He quickly took a sip of water to calm himself.

"These magical arrays are highly destructive," Melisandre said as she stepped a little closer. "Any creature that touches them will trigger them, and even I can't deactivate them." Her scent drifted into Wright's nose, different from Nymeria and Tyene's — hers carried a trace of heat.

Tyene, noticing the beautiful and alluring Melisandre, grew wary. Wright had told her that Melisandre was a sorceress who had lived for over a century, but her presence still felt dangerous. Tyene instinctively wrapped her arm around Wright's waist, claiming her territory.

"Wright, powerful sorcerer, have you heard of the Lord of Light?"

"I follow the Seven," Wright replied casually. He had prayed to whichever gods were present where he lived, and given that he was in Westeros, it seemed fitting to follow the Seven.

Melisandre's eyes gleamed. "The God of Death in the North is about to awaken, and the savior Azor Ahai will be reborn. He will wield a Fire sword called the Lightbringer and awaken dragons from the stone to end this eternal conflict. Wright, join us. Use your power to aid the Lord of Light and defeat the God of Death!"

Wright had seen his fair share of scams — insurance schemes, direct sales, pyramid schemes, and all kinds of nonsense — so he wasn't swayed by her offer. "I'm not interested in wars between gods."

Melisandre was momentarily stunned, not expecting such a response. "I saw you in the Flame Prophecy of R'hllor," she continued, her voice soft but filled with intensity. "You are the greatest sorcerer, wielding the sword granted by the Lord of Light, commanding an army to fight against death."

Wright paused, taken aback. She had seen a prophecy about him? No, wait — he was already the strongest sorcerer around. There were only a handful of magic users between the two continents.

Wright laughed inwardly as he processed the situation. Melisandre's words about wielding the Fire sword and the Lord of Light felt all too familiar — a language trap, typical of someone trying to manipulate others with grand prophecies. His own experience with the flaming cloak in Braavos, where he had used fire to ignite Dark Sister, had been seen by many, and now Melisandre was attributing everything related to fire to the Lord of Light.

"You said you saw me in a prophecy?" Wright asked with a mocking smile.

Melisandre flipped her hair back seductively. "Through the flames, I can see glimpses of the future, and there you were."

Wright pressed on. "The God of Cold and Death, the Night King?"

"It seems you know something about it," she replied. "Fight alongside the Lord of Light, and you will become the greatest warrior."

Wright, feeling the heat building inside, hugged Tyene tightly. He took another sip of water, trying to stay cool. "The Eye of the Seer, Boneless Limb, Digger Claws. He Who Dwells Beneath the Waves"

"Are you talking about the Drowned God?" Melisandre asked.

Wright grinned. "Not long ago, I met the Drowned God. It thought highly of me and wanted me as its servant, but I found it boring, so I turned it down. Why don't you have the Lord of Light speak with the Drowned God and see who I end up following?"

Wright had heard from Hermaeus Mora that the gods of the ancient world looked down upon this one, considering it a savage place, and that no true gods could be born here — only powerful magic users or great deceivers. Melisandre's response only confirmed what he had suspected: Hermaeus Mora had come to this world a long time ago. He, who one was also known as the "Spirit of the Tides", earning the tittle of "The Drowned God" wasn't surprising.

Melisandre straightened, hands on her hips, unfazed by Wright's playful response. She had been rejected by many during her missionary work, so this was nothing new. "Your jokes are not amusing, Lord Wright."

"I'm not joking," he said with a wink. "The Drowned God's name is Hermaeus Mora. Your prophetic abilities are so strong — why don't you go have a chat with it?"

Wright began to caress Tyene, distracting himself. Melisandre, seeing Wright's firm refusal and his mention of other deities, decided to give up on converting him for now. The two exchanged polite goodbyes and wished each other good night.

As Wright entered the tent with Tyene, the sound of soft gasps filled the air. Melisandre, still on the small hill, paused, looked down at her own body, and smiled to herself. She was pleased with her form. As she walked back, she thought about her next steps — Wright was powerful, and she knew she had to keep pushing the belief of the Lord of Light onto him. Eventually, she was certain he would be swayed. He was young, lustful, and eager to serve a powerful cause. A few sacrifices for the greater good would be worth it.

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