Aegon swept his gaze over the septons of the Seven, their faces twisted as they shouted without pause.
Morning light shone on his silver hair, yet left not a trace of warmth in his violet eyes.
It seemed hanging the High Sparrow and his fanatical followers outside the city walls last time had not cowed these men completely.
Perhaps even his decision to punish only the ringleaders after the riots in King's Landing and swiftly restore order had been mistaken for weakness.
He spoke, his voice quiet but cutting through the din:
"The septs owed their former prosperity to the generosity of generations of Targaryen kings."
"It is royal authority that permits religious authority to exist, not religious authority that stands above the crown."
"Now, the crown has decreed that this land shall embrace a new faith. As for dragons... dragons are the emblem and strength of the Targaryen bloodline, the symbol of the Dragonlord's authority. Since when was it your place to question them?"
His words were like oil poured onto a fire.
One particularly young septon suddenly rushed a step forward, almost impaling himself on a spear point, and shouted hoarsely:
"Dragons? The Targaryens are merely mortals who were lucky enough to master dragons! You blasphemers who abandon the Seven and worship monsters-do you not fear true divine punishment?!"
"Divine punishment?"
The corner of Aegon's mouth shifted. It was not a smile, merely a cold curve.
He no longer looked at the young septon. Instead, he turned an indifferent gaze toward empty air, casually raised his right hand, and swept it gently downward.
Everyone froze.
Boom-!
A deafening blast tore through the morning sky!
A shaft of indescribably brilliant golden light struck straight down from the clear, cloudless sky, swallowing the shouting young septon in an instant with