Stannis finished speaking.
Two Holy Fire Knights in black armor dragged the High Sparrow over like a dead dog.
He neither resisted nor struggled.
His dust-covered face was frighteningly calm.
Things had come to this, and he accepted his fate.
He knew he had misjudged Stannis's strength, and such a fatal mistake often meant utter defeat.
Stannis turned his horse and rode at the head of the procession.
Behind him came the knights escorting the High Sparrow, followed by a dark mass of troops.
The streets of King's Landing were filled with kneeling people.
The commoners who had shouted "Fight for the gods!" only yesterday, those so-called Warrior's Sons, now knelt limply on the ground as though their backbones had been torn out.
They bowed their heads, afraid to look at Stannis, afraid to look at the army that had just brought them boundless terror.
Their bodies trembled, and so did their souls.
Davos Seaworth followed beside Stannis, watching the ashen-faced people on either side of the street, his heart turning cold.
Was this the submission the king wanted?
Reverence bought with slaughter and fear?
"My lord."
Davos's voice was a little hoarse.
"Are you really going to... kill him in front of the entire city?"
Stannis did not look at him.
"He is not a man."
"He is a symbol, a symbol of faith in false gods."
"Only by crushing that symbol utterly before everyone's eyes will they understand who truly rules this Kingdom."
Davos had nothing to say.
He looked at Stannis's cold profile and felt as though he were looking at a stranger.
This was no longer the Duke Stannis he had sworn to serve, stubborn though he was, yet steadfast in upholding the law.
This was a monster whose every human feeling had been burned away