Chapter 271: Meeting

The meeting lasted until the evening, finalizing some measures against the White Walkers in the North.

On the military front, reinforcing the defenses of the Wall was necessary, requiring a royal decree to be sent to Winterfell. After that, it would depend on how Eddard Stark cooperated. The lackluster combat performance of the Gold Cloaks had also served as a wake-up call for everyone—each lord needed to be urged to strengthen the training of their knights and soldiers; otherwise, they wouldn't even be able to handle wights.

Food supplies and warm clothing were also to be mass-produced and stockpiled. The Free Folk who could be relocated to Tyrosh had already set sail, numbering fewer than three thousand. Meanwhile, the royal fleet would return to King's Landing for rest and resupply within the next month.

Wright was assigned to focus primarily on wildfire production and researching methods to eliminate White Walkers.

As for the matter of royal succession, Robert was still in a foul mood, and no one dared to bring it up for now.

The next morning, Wright and Renly were invited to attend the opening ceremony of a new shop.

It was an alchemy store opened in Highgarden by a mage who had graduated from the Citadel. His magical talent was mediocre, and his family was not wealthy, so he had given up the opportunity to further his studies in Tyrosh. Instead, with the financial backing of House Tyrell, he had established this shop.

The demand for mages across the Seven Kingdoms was immense. Lesser-known nobles had no channels to hire them, as most mages were already recruited by other lords before even graduating. The Citadel had produced only around fifty mage graduates, most of whom could only cast novice-level spells, with a few reaching the level of apprentices. This small number had been entirely absorbed by the nobility of the Reach, serving as magical advisors in various noble households.

Through the Magic administration Committee, Wright had long since made proper alchemical formulas public, and most mages across the realm had some degree of knowledge in the field. Opening a shop in Highgarden to sell alchemical materials and potions was an inevitable trend.

The shop owner, named Rogg, was the son of a farmer from a village near Highgarden. Originally, his future was set to be that of a lifelong farmer. However, as Citadel mages traveled in search of potential apprentices, Rogg happened to show a trace of magical talent.

Nowadays, whether in King's Landing or the Citadel, a mage who graduated from the academy would be knighted upon completion of their studies. Rogg's family had thus ascended from mere farmers to landed knights. His formal title was now Ser Rogg or Mage Rogg.

The shop itself was of moderate size by Highgarden's standards. Its customers consisted mainly of mages and nobles, and since it specialized in alchemical goods, a large crowd had gathered outside, eager to watch the event.

When acting in their capacity as mages, Wright and Renly rarely brought attendants. As they arrived, the onlookers instinctively stepped aside, for the five rotating magical spheres floating behind each of them were not just for show. Even standing two paces away, one could feel the searing heat of the fireball and the biting chill of the ice sphere. These five-colored magical orbs had become their signature mark.

"Archmage, Master Renly!" Rogg, who had been greeting his fellow alumni and friends, immediately bowed upon seeing them.

"Archmage, Master Renly!" The other Citadel mages followed suit, bowing in unison.

Their respect was genuine, coming from the depths of their hearts.

Wright had dedicated vast amounts of time to research and theory, and every copied magical tome bore his name. Renly, on the other hand, was responsible for practice and teaching. Due to his business dealings, he frequently traveled throughout the Reach and often visited the Citadel's magical academy to give lectures.

As for Wright's standing among the mages of the Seven Kingdoms, every fundamental magical theory in use today stemmed from his selfless contributions. If not deified, he was at least someone whose words carried unquestionable weight. The same was true for Renly.

Wright grinned. "Haha! Congratulations, Mage Rogg! I hope your alchemy shop won't distract you from your pursuit of magical knowledge."

Rogg replied earnestly, "Rest assured, Archmage! I will always seek the endless mysteries of magic!"

Renly chuckled and patted Rogg's shoulder. "Just don't start selling invisibility potions. Remember, I'm still the Master of Laws!"

"You have my word, Master Renly! I will abide by the Council's regulations!" Rogg responded with both respect and a hint of apprehension. Back when he was a student, Renly had mercilessly tested his students with magic—fire, lightning, and ice, healing them just before they collapsed, only to continue again. Every mage present, except Wright, had suffered through that experience.

Wright gestured forward. "Come, let's take a look inside."

"Of course! This way, please!" Rogg eagerly led them into the store.

The shop's interior was simple. Upon entering, one found a small hall furnished with a few tables and chairs. To the side stood a long counter and rows of shelves lined with various alchemical potions. A waist-high, swinging gate next to the counter led to another set of shelves. Only mages were allowed in that area, as it contained not finished potions but alchemical materials and specialized tools.

Now that Rogg bore a knight's title, his father and siblings had left farming behind and joined him in running the shop. They handled potion sales with clearly marked prices, treating the business no differently than any other merchant trade.

"What's your best-selling potion?" Wright inquired. The shop had only just opened, and there were no customers yet, but judging by the stocked shelves, Rogg likely already had a good sense of market demand.

Rogg gestured toward the shelf. "The best-seller is the Lesser Healing Potion, followed by the Lesser Burden Potion. There are also many young people in the city who love buying Water Walking Potions. Once they've experienced running across the Mander River, they get addicted to it."

Wright raised an eyebrow. "I recall that the ingredients for Water Walking Potions are only found in Essos, and the alchemical process required is quite advanced. Have you already mastered it?"

Rogg scratched his head. "Goods imported from Tyrosh—making a profit off the margin."

The Water Walking Potion was truly a fine item. If not for its exorbitant cost and the limited number of mages capable of producing it, Wright really wished that every officer in Tyrosh's navy could have one—after all, for a naval officer, it could be a lifesaver. At present, only the navy officers carried a single bottle.

"Since it's our own business, I have to support it no matter what," Wright remarked, glancing around the shop to see what else might be missing—a gift for the distributor who was earning money on his behalf.

"When you came in, you forgot to check the signboard. What is the name of your shop?" Wright planned to add a word to its name.

"The shop is called: Unrelenting Force!" Rogg said, looking up at Wright with awe, afraid that Wright might take that name back.

Wright's Dragon Language magic was widely known and even more widely spread. Nowadays, even children, when fighting, would shout "Fus~~Ro~~Dah" and spit on each other.

Wright gave him a thumbs-up. "Excellent taste!"

"Thank you very much!" Rogg bowed once again.

"Step outside the shop; I'll get you a new sign!"

Wright called everyone to the shop's entrance.

In Highgarden's inner city, the houses were all built of stone, and the shop's main door faced a small plaza. Hanging above was a wooden board with the words "Unrelenting Force" written in the common tongue of Westeros.

With a wave of his mage's hand, Wright removed the sign and handed it to Rogg.

"Wow, magic!" The onlookers exclaimed as they saw the white magic snatch the sign from its place, speculating that Wright might be up to no good.

Neither Renly and the other mages nor Rogg with his father and siblings knew what Wright intended to do—was he going to inscribe something with magic?

Wright looked up at the bare stone wall and took a deep breath.

"What are you doing!" Renly cried, watching Wright's actions, convinced that he was about to use Dragon Language magic—and feared that Wright was about to tear down the wall!

"Fus!"

The sound of Dragon Language was soft yet reached every ear in the plaza. A subtle shockwave emanated from Wright's mouth, sweeping away the dust on the wall. In its place, claw-shaped characters appeared.

The Dragon Language characters, formed by magic, glowed fiercely—so hot that the wall's stone began to melt. Now, the characters shone in a molten, golden-red hue.

"Wow!" The gathered crowd marveled at every sight.

"Ro!"

"Dah!"

"Truly, Unrelenting Force!" Rogg exclaimed, his hands trembling with excitement as he looked at the shop's new signboard.

Wright had inscribed the entire set of Dragon Language characters for "Unrelenting Force" in the sign's place. Once the molten letters cooled, they would form into black inscriptions. Whether the customers could read them was unimportant—after all, with Wright personally carving this sign, this shop would be one-of-a-kind in Highgarden.

"Many thanks again, Lord Wright!" Rogg said, bowing as he expressed his gratitude, his words nearly tumbling out in excitement.

"May the magic be with you!" Wright said, and then prepared to leave for the inner city with Renly.

"Lord Wright, travel safely; Master Renly, travel safely," the assembled mages bid the two farewell.

Once back inside the shop, as they excitedly discussed the events, they realized that Wright's parting blessing was indeed perfectly suited for mages—a wish that protected and encouraged all at once. It was no wonder he was the Archmage; his cultural literacy was simply exceptional.

That impromptu blessing—borrowed on the spot—soon began to spread throughout the Reach and the Citadel's Magic School.

---

Back in the inner city of Highgarden, Wright prepared to summon the Dremora Lord once again, as previously arranged.

Wright intended to send Renly back to his chamber, but Renly, shameless as ever, insisted on following him, eager for another glimpse of the Dremora Lord.

After closing his chamber door and initiating a silence spell, Wright asked Renly, "Renly, do you believe in the existence of true gods?"

Renly thought for a moment and then looked up at Wright. "Based on my research, what we call gods are nothing more than powerful mages. They can accomplish feats that ordinary people cannot—like you, using magic to tear down a wall, the giant's eye in Tyrosh, or the weather-altering Dragon Shout. Over time, reality is forgotten and later rewritten as divine. Some even argue that these gods were fabricated purely by religious forces to control their followers!"

Having been steeped in Wright's teachings since childhood, Renly had a fairly clear understanding of the world. So, Wright patiently explained, "Your theory is both correct and incorrect! It is correct in that the magical energy in our world is too limited to give birth to truly godlike mages. Even if all the magicka in the world were concentrated, it would still fall short. The Valyrian Freehold once attempted to take that step; they built massive magical installations in a volcano's crater to draw out the hidden power beneath the earth, only to trigger a great catastrophe. For now, let's refer to such a world as a low-magic world."

Wright continued speaking while forming a frozen replica of Valyria's Fourteen Flames on the table.

"But you're not entirely correct!"

He let the ice melt away before summoning a frozen wall from the floor. Strange faces appeared on its surface, faces Renly had never seen before.

"If another world was created by a being who understood the laws of magic and reality, then such a being could have descendants or might have even created a class of overseers—beings nearly immortal, wielding deeper, more fundamental powers. To us, they would be gods!"

"Creator gods?" Renly muttered in shock. Wright had never lied to him, and this clearly wasn't a joke.

"In different cultures, they're called by many names—creator gods, the eternal, the prime beings, the makers. Now, about the Dremora—like elementals or undead, they exist in another plane of existence. The realm of the dead is chaotic and lawless, the realm of the elements is violent and untamed, but what of the realm where the Dremora reside?"

"The Dremora you summon aren't like elementals. They speak, they forge weapons and armor. They have a civilization," Renly pondered before looking at Wright. "And if they have a civilization, then…"

Wright nodded. "Dremora is merely a broad term. They come in many forms. The ones I summon have a powerful ruler—so powerful, he might as well be called a demon god."

Renly fell silent for a while before suddenly narrowing his eyes. "In every legend, humans who consort with demons lose their humanity, eventually becoming demons themselves. Dremora, demon gods… the names alone tell me they're not good news. Wright, are you making a deal with demons?"

Wright replied, "This so-called demon god governs change, power, and ambition. Who doesn't want to become nobility, or even a king? Who doesn't want greater magic? People pursue these things, and in doing so, they fall prey to the whispers that burrow into their souls, leading them to corruption."

"And you think you can resist that temptation?" Renly asked with concern. He feared Wright was bargaining with demons to fight the White Walkers.

Wright clenched his fist. "Dragonborn! Dragonborn aren't just mages who control dragons. The true power of the Dragonborn lies within. They can summon dragons from another world, and when dragons die, the Dragonborn can absorb their souls! The souls of dragons help me resist corruption."

"You can summon dragons from another world? Absorb their souls? Why haven't you told me this before?" Until now, Renly had believed that Dragonborn were simply powerful dragon-riders.

Wright couldn't exactly say he was a transmigrant. Fortunately, he had an excuse. "There are many people in this world like me, but most of them never realize it. Some live their whole lives as farmers, sailors, or pleasure-seeking lords, never stepping into the world of magic. But five thousand years ago, the ancestors of Valyria were like me—they were Dragonborn! When I was looting the ruins of Valyria, I accidentally disturbed their tombs and learned how to summon dragons. Their ancestors' spirits even came after me. Seeing that I was also a Dragonborn, they passed on their knowledge."

Renly finally understood. "That explains it! No one has ever seen Odahviing before, despite its massive size. That's because, like elementals, it was summoned from another world." He then raised a hand, summoning a storm elemental, and began recalling his childhood experiences communicating with the elemental plane.

Wright sighed in relief—at least Renly believed him. The truth about his transmigration could never be revealed. It would upend everything.

But then Renly asked another question. "If these demon gods crave change, power, and ambition, why haven't they invaded this world?"

Wright smirked. "Back to what I mentioned earlier. That Valyrian ancestor told me that this world has an abnormally low concentration of magicka. Worse still, for reasons unknown, it's leaking magicka, meaning the concentration is steadily decreasing. If a higher realm connects to this one, magicka will start flowing here—but it won't stop. It will eventually leak into the unknown. So tell me, if they tried to conquer our world, would they truly be the ones winning? Or would this world be draining them instead?"

Renly chuckled. "That's like selling goods for a few silver stags, only to realize shipping costs a few gold dragons! No merchant would willingly take such a loss."

Now that Renly understood the nature of the Dremora, Wright continued. "The Dremora I summon are the lowest-ranked soldiers of their realm. Their leader now wishes to speak with me. I don't know why, but offending such a powerful entity isn't an option. This conversation must happen."

"Will it be dangerous?" Renly asked. If this had been a benevolent god, he would have been curious to see it himself. But a demon god? That was another matter entirely.

Wright thought for a moment before answering. "I don't know what form the conversation will take. However, connecting a higher plane to this world is easy for them. Perhaps they'll send an avatar, a statue imbued with their presence. We'll likely communicate through that."

"Then I definitely can't leave! I'll stay in this room. You stand here and talk to the demon god, and I'll be right beside you, ready to assist with magic at any moment!"

Ever since they were young, it had always been his younger brother, Wright, standing at the front. This time, Renly wanted to prove himself in front of his brother.

Wright nodded at him. "Alright. If my body gets enveloped by some unknown magic, pull me back immediately with Mage Hand!"

Renly took a deep breath, straightened his collar, and tried to relax so he wouldn't appear so tense. "I'm ready!"

Wright moved to the center of the room and began casting the summoning spell. From within a swirling purple mist of magic, the Demon Lord from yesterday emerged.

"Dragonborn! You have indeed kept your promise."

"So, how exactly are we going to communicate?" Wright had no confidence in this situation.

The Dremora Lord didn't answer but instead turned toward the wall, pulling a book from his waist. Holding it open in one hand, he began casting a spell with the other.

Seeing the unfamiliar magic at play, Renly couldn't make sense of it and instead asked Wright, "What's this demon god's name?"

Wright replied, "A demon god's full name, once spoken, is known across all planes and all realms. But since we are about to converse with him, you need to know how to address him properly. His full name is Mehrunes Dagon."

"Understood! I won't say the full name out loud!" Renly nodded solemnly.

The Dremora Lord's right hand pulled streaks of orange-red magic from the book—its glow resembling the molten lava that filled Dagon's domain. The spell continued, and though Wright lacked the knowledge to comprehend magic that pierced the boundaries of planes, he felt intrigued and moved closer to observe the book in the demon's hand.

The book was about an inch thick, resembling an ordinary tome in size. Its cover was pure white, with a symbol resembling a stone door etched on the front. Then, Wright turned his gaze to the massive, bucket-sized orb of orange-red energy forming in front of the demon.

"Stop immediately!"

Wright shouted as he instinctively gathered a surge of lightning in his hands.

The Dremora Lord ceased his casting, but the flow of orange-red magical energy from the book into the air continued. "The connection is complete. My master wishes to see you."

The orb of magic hovering in midair suddenly erupted, forming a two-meter-high portal. A powerful force of attraction surged from within, pulling in Wright, Renly, and everything in the bedroom—tables, chairs, carpets, the solid wooden bed—all swallowed into the portal.