A delicious treat to come

(Thanks to reader 160229102154862 for the two monthly votes.)

"Archbishop Jaqen, how are things progressing?"

Inside the Great Sept of Baelor, the High Sparrow sat calmly before the statue of the Father and questioned the tall, thin man in red beside him.

But his flickering eyes betrayed his slight unease.

"Not very well, Your High Holiness."

Archbishop Jaqen's face showed neither joy nor sorrow. Behind him stood two men with vacant yet somewhat fanatical eyes, swords in hand, guarding his left and right.

"Over the past few days, the Gold Cloaks' large-scale operations have greatly reduced the number of thieves and robbers in King's Landing.

"On top of that, they've recruited many of the poor who couldn't afford food to work for them and provided them with ample meals. We can barely recruit anyone at all."

"Not to mention that we still have to send most of our people out to spread word of Lord Arthas's glorious image."

"Over these past few days, we've only gathered a little over thirty young, able-bodied men. The Sons of the Warrior plan has suffered a serious setback."

As he listened to the report, the High Sparrow's expression remained unchanged, but the worry in his eyes deepened.

He turned to look at Jaqen in his red robes. This man was the most obedient of all the archbishops, or perhaps the most devout.

In his own words, he believed only in the Seven and would obey whoever occupied the position of High Septon.

Compared with the others, who either thought of nothing but rising through the ranks or had long since sided with Arthas, this archbishop was someone he could use with complete peace of mind.

"It's still not enough."

Gently closing his eyes, the gray-haired High Sparrow weighed his options.

Arthas is far too powerful in combat. Merely thirty-odd armed Sons of the Warrior probably won't give us complete assurance of taking him down.

More importantly, on the day Arthas had forcibly brought him here to take office, the High Sparrow had sensed an unprecedented threat in his eyes.

It was a trembling that came from the depths of his soul. Before Arthas, he could not muster the slightest thought of resistance.

No, I must be rid of this man.

Shaking his head, the High Sparrow felt such an intense sense of danger for the first time in his life.

"We need more men, Archbishop Jaqen."

"No matter what methods you use, I must see at least a hundred Sons of the Warrior before tomorrow!"

Faced with the High Sparrow's uncompromising gaze, Archbishop Jaqen showed no intention of refusing.

"I'll see to it at once, Your High Holiness."

Jaqen always handled matters decisively, without the slightest tendency to drag his feet.

Upon receiving the High Sparrow's orders, he swept his robes aside and led the two Sons of the Warrior straight out of the Great Sept of Baelor.

"No one in this world dares threaten me."

"Arthas, I will see you receive the judgment you deserve before the Seven!"

After Jaqen left, the muscles in the High Sparrow's face twitched slightly. He stared intently at the statues of the Father and the Mother before him, his hands clasped together against his forehead, seemingly praying for himself.

"Lord Arthas, please try the wheat cakes I made myself!"

"Lord Arthas, you simply must accept these fresh eggs my hen laid this morning!"

"Lord Arthas, please take a look at the hymn I wrote for you!"

On the way from the Red Keep to the Street of Steel, Arthas and his companions were surrounded by the residents of King's Landing, leaving no room to move. People brought out the best things they had and kept pressing them into their hands.

Since the King's Landing Purge Plan began, public safety in King's Landing had become as different from before as heaven was from earth.

Not only had theft, robbery, murder, arson, and all other acts of violence dwindled to a mere handful, but the once-reeking streets had also become clean and tidy through the efforts of the prisoners and the poor of Flea Bottom.

With the Faith of the Seven constantly proclaiming that Arthas was the reincarnation of the Father, the Mother, and the Warrior combined, his prestige among the people of King's Landing grew by the day.

Some people had even begun quietly suggesting that Arthas should sit upon the Iron Throne.

Of course, our Commander of the Gold Cloaks always ignored these rumors, neither supporting them nor coming forward to refute them, leaving them to develop as they would.

As a result, whenever Arthas appeared in public, he was almost invariably surrounded by the enthusiastic people of King's Landing.

Arthas also proved approachable enough. Completely confident in his own strength, he never brought any guards with him when he went out.

At most, he brought Gendry and Lancel.

Smiling as he declined everyone's kindness along the way, Arthas stepped into a smithy under their reluctant gazes, while Gendry and Lancel thoughtfully stood guard at the entrance.

This was the shop where Gendry had once been apprenticed. Larger than any other shop on the Street of Steel, it was built of timber and plaster and stood tall enough to overlook the entire street.

Its two great doors were made of ebony and weirwood, with a hunting scene carved upon them.

A stone knight stood on either side of the entrance, clad in red armor and posed to look like a griffin and a unicorn guarding the doors.

Such an imposing storefront was enough to show just how skilled its owner was.

"Oh, Lord Arthas."

The smithy's owner, Tobho Mott, had been carefully examining a newly forged greatsword. The moment he saw the blond youth enter, he hastily put it down and came forward enthusiastically, dark circles ringing his eyes.

"I never expected you to come in person. I'm truly overwhelmed by the honor."

Because of the Gold Cloaks' enormous order, Tobho Mott had already spent nearly three sleepless nights working with over a dozen apprentices, all to produce samples that would satisfy Arthas before the deadline.

"Master Tobho, the agreed day has arrived. I've come to inspect the samples."

The blond youth's burly physique surpassed even that of Tobho's former apprentice Gendry, yet his manner was exceedingly modest and courteous. He showed none of the arrogance of a paying customer.

He truly looks like a youth straight out of a bard's tale!

Looking at his handsome face, sculpted physique, and courteous manner, Tobho could not help marveling, and believed a little more strongly in the possibility that Arthas was the reincarnation of the Seven.

Still, admiration was one thing, and business another. Hearing the purpose of his visit, Tobho hastily pulled out the greatsword behind him and respectfully presented it to Arthas with both hands.

"Lord Arthas, please inspect it."

Resting a hand lightly on the hilt, Arthas lifted the heavy two-handed greatsword with one hand and held it level before his eyes for a careful look.

The silvery-white blade was exceptionally smooth, reflecting his face so clearly that even his tiny eyelashes were visible.

What seemed to be incredibly intricate patterns were engraved along the blade, showing a hint of red in the sunlight.

Ting!

He flicked it with a finger, and the entire blade gave a clear, ringing hum. Its craftsmanship was evidently superb.

"We used a unique forging method for this sword, quenching and polishing it over a thousand times and incorporating fine traces of colored metal."

Speaking of his technique for forging the greatsword, Tobho proudly puffed out his chest. When it came to forging iron in King's Landing, if he ranked second, no one would dare claim first.

"I can safely say that if every guard in the City Watch were equipped with a greatsword like this, they could cut through the armor of the vast majority of knights in Westeros."

Seeing satisfaction appear on Arthas's face, the proud-looking Tobho secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

Though he had absolute confidence in his skills, Arthas was reputed to be the finest knight in the Seven Kingdoms. If he insisted on finding fault, Tobho's reputation would be ruined.

"However..."

"However, what?"

Once Arthas put down the greatsword, Tobho spoke again hesitantly.

"A greatsword like this takes at least five days to forge, and the cost runs as high as forty-five Gold Dragons..."

"And that's without any profit for me."

"That's all right, Tobho."

Faced with the master smith's hesitation, Arthas generously dismissed the issue.

The man's forging skills had clearly reached their pinnacle, even reminding him of an old friend.

"One two-handed greatsword of this quality, one light sword, and a suit of refined iron armor."

"I'll give you a hundred and fifty Gold Dragons per set."

Waving a hand lavishly, Arthas added a reminder under Tobho's excited gaze.

"But I want at least two thousand sets in three months. Can you manage that?"

Hearing Arthas's terms, Tobho hesitated, then gritted his teeth.

"Yes, Lord Arthas. I'll take the order!"

He certainly could not handle such a large order alone. Better to do his fellow craftsmen a favor and bring in all the others in King's Landing.

Arthas nodded in satisfaction. Just as he put down the greatsword and prepared to leave, Lancel hurried inside, leaned close to his ear, and whispered:

"Lord Arthas, the High Septon, the High Sparrow, invites you to attend tonight's service at the Great Sept of Baelor."

"He said that, as the incarnation of the Seven, you've never attended the evening feast prayers, which is somewhat improper."

"I knew this fellow wouldn't be able to hold back much longer."

Listening to Lancel's report, a faint, playful smile rose on his handsome face, and his golden eyes filled with anticipation, as though he were about to taste something delicious.

"Tell the High Sparrow I'll be there for the 'feast' right on time!"