Stannis looked at the barefoot old man before him and the vast, dark mass of people behind him, his brow knotted tightly.
He did not think anything of this old fellow who looked as though a gust of wind could knock him over.
"Move aside."
There was not a trace of emotion in Stannis's voice.
Mounted on his warhorse, he looked down at the High Sparrow as though he were an ant blocking his path.
"This is the city of the Seven."
The High Sparrow repeated himself.
The tens of thousands of worshippers behind him carried all manner of weapons, but their eyes burned with a chilling fanaticism.
They were afraid.
They feared the army before them, clad in heavy armor and wielding sharp swords.
But they believed even more firmly that the gods stood behind them!
"The Seven?" Stannis laughed.
His laughter held undisguised mockery and contempt.
"A pack of false gods made of clay and wood dares stand in the path of the one true god?"
He abruptly drew the longsword at his waist and pointed its tip straight at the High Sparrow!
"I'll say it again. Move aside!"
"Otherwise, I'll use holy fire to burn you and the garbage you worship to ashes!"
At the words "holy fire," the eyes of the soldiers behind Stannis instantly blazed with fanaticism!
They raised their weapons in unison and let out a thunderous shout!
"Fight for our god!"
"Fight for our god!"
The united roar of tens of thousands of soldiers was terrifying!
The civilian worshippers at the city gates turned pale before that murderous presence. Many felt their knees give way and nearly dropped to the ground.
Yet the High Sparrow's face remained expressionless.
He merely watched Stannis calmly.
"It seems you've made your choice."
Leaning on his wooden