In the Name of God, Unleash Slaughter

Inside the Tower of the Hand, the air seemed to have frozen solid.

A guard rushed in, his voice warped by fear.

"My lord! Six merchants from the North!"

"They were thrown out of a window! All of them died on the spot!"

Jon Arryn shot to his feet, his chair scraping backward across the floor with a piercing screech.

His graying hair was disheveled, his eyes bloodshot.

"Dead?"

The guard did not dare raise his head. "They are all dead, my lord."

Jon Arryn slammed a fist onto the table, making the parchments tremble violently.

"Madness!"

"They've all gone mad!"

Unable to endure it any longer, he roared at the guards outside the door.

"Carry out my orders! Deploy the City Watch!"

"Arrest all those septons spreading wicked rumors in the streets!"

The order was like a stone cast into boiling water.

Rather than calming, the situation in King's Landing erupted completely.

The arrests took away the organized preachers, but they ignited the towering rage in the hearts of every commoner.

An apprentice from a blacksmith's shop threw down his hammer and climbed atop a wine barrel.

A tailor's assistant set aside his needle and thread and climbed onto a rooftop.

A kitchen hand waved a cleaver as he preached his own understanding of the doctrine to the crowd.

Everyone became a septon. Everyone became a prophet.

The street sermons multiplied from dozens of locations to hundreds, then thousands.

Sparks scattered into every corner of the city. Without unified organizers, the movement became even more frenzied.

The nobles split completely.

Some were terrified and demanded that the Hand immediately deploy soldiers to suppress the unrest.

Others agreed with the septons' words and even joined them.

The situation had spiraled entirely out of control.

This blaze was no longer one