Summoning the bannermen

[Prologue-Green Lands]

Section four: The first surge of magic

Guided by ancient bloodlines, magic in the Green Lands began to revive earlier than elsewhere. Yet this magical "wasteland" had gone too long without nourishment, and things that should not appear would come along with it.

[Cleanse the corruption spawned by magic, and let warm winds once again brush every blade of grass in the Green Lands. Reward: magic tide revival accelerated by 24 hours, frost intensity reduced by 0.00084%, and a slight increase in magic concentration!]

Looking at the open Book of Strange Script in his hands, Darean sank into thought.

Every update to the Book of Strange Script had a clear focus.

It always corresponded to something that had happened recently.

Viewed that way, the trouble at the Hightower might be the result of magic.

The effects of magic on Westeros as a whole were unknown.

Then what exactly was the Book of Strange Script trying to achieve by accelerating the revival of the magic tide while suppressing the intensity of this so-called frost?

Still, even if he did not do this, Daenerys would do it next year.

The revival of the magic tide was irreversible. Even killing the little queen right now would do no good.

Unable to unravel the secret behind it, Darean could only set it aside.

This time, the rewards for completing the task differed from before.

Darean saw three symbols.

They had appeared at the bottom of the fourth page.

An eye, an hourglass, and a... thermometer?

Since they were all gray and still locked, Darean had no idea what they actually were.

But he could still do the arithmetic of three being greater than one. Receiving three rewards at once was naturally a good thing.

His thoughts returned to the fourth section of the Book of Strange Script.

Cleanse the corruption spawned by magic, and let warm winds once again brush every blade of grass in the Green Lands.

Silently repeating the objective, Darean roughly understood what he needed to do.

The revival of the magic tide had probably unsealed some rather unpleasant things.

Things unlike something as harmless as a Glass Candle lighting up.

The "zombie" Mountain Qyburn had created came to mind. That, too, was a manifestation of magic.

So he had to involve himself in this potential crisis at the Hightower.

"Marwyn, you need to stay in constant contact with Oldtown for the time being. We need to know what's happening there."

"Also, take twenty men from Jeylo and put them under Clyson's command. Have them set out for Oldtown immediately."

"We need to keep a pair of eyes there. We can't remain passive."

Margaery Tyrell, who had originally been staying in the two-story building, had already been "politely" asked to move elsewhere.

Darean no longer had time to keep up the act with this Rose of Highgarden.

If you won't leave, then stay out of my way.

Highgarden.

"There's nothing we can do. Our road to Oldtown has effectively been cut off."

The speaker was Garlan Tyrell, the Lord of Highgarden's second son.

Two days earlier, reports of attacks had arrived from several knights' holdings to the south.

At first, everyone had assumed the men below were drunkenly spouting nonsense, and Highgarden had severely reprimanded them.

Yet since yesterday, none of the people they had sent south had returned, and reports of attacks were growing ever more numerous.

Rumors of the dead attacking the living, the coming of the Long Night, and the return of the White Walkers were everywhere.

The Queen of Thorns had grown anxious at once.

Because the south was not just anywhere. It was precisely Oldtown's sphere of influence.

Her precious granddaughter was still there!

Olenna Redwyne desperately wanted the powerful southern vassals to fall apart, but she certainly did not want her granddaughter to go down with House Hightower.

"What is going on? The ravens sent to Oldtown should have arrived long ago. Why haven't we received a single reply?!"

The Queen of Thorns looked grim.

There was something wrong with this affair from top to bottom.

She did not believe a word of those rumors about the dead and the living... well, for now.

House Hightower had first begun building a town across the Redwyne Straits. Then, after she sent her granddaughter there, they had unilaterally cut off contact with Highgarden.

And the rumors coming from there sounded thoroughly convincing.

What exactly was House Hightower trying to do?!

War?

She knew very well the military potential of that great power to her south.

But... what would they gain?

Unable to make sense of it however she looked at it, the Queen of Thorns could only take great gulps of the blood-red wine in her cup.

"Grandmother, what should we do now?"

Worried about his sister, Garlan asked loudly.

She was deeply displeased by her grandson's shouting, but her good breeding kept Olenna Redwyne from venting her anger on him at that moment.

Her voice was cold as she spoke:

"Whatever House Hightower intends, we cannot remain unprepared."

"Go, send out ravens. Summon the troops of the nearest few houses under the pretext of celebrating your father's birthday in two weeks. Tell them I want some entertainment."

"Order them to bring sufficient troops without fail. I will cover the losses to their lands."

Seated to one side, the portly Lord Mace Tyrell finally put his brain to use for once upon hearing his mother's words, and said in surprise:

"Mother... with that many troops, King's Landing is bound to find out!"

Olenna Redwyne gave him a cold look and said:

"Then let them find out. Robert won't interfere."

"I have a feeling the upheaval House Hightower has stirred up this time will be no small matter. We must prepare before trouble comes. I must safeguard Highgarden."

The room was utterly silent. Everyone present knew exactly what summoning the bannermen meant.

But they could not argue against it.

Highgarden had almost no standing army. If House Hightower truly went mad, given the short distance, their cavalry could block Highgarden's gates within a week if Horn Hill and Brightwater Keep failed to stop them effectively.

In the end, no one challenged the words of Highgarden's supreme ruler.

Gray ravens took flight one after another from the heights of the fortress, drawing many passersby to a halt.

The faces of some older people who had lived through the War of the Usurper instantly darkened.

They had seen this sight before, more than a decade ago.

At the same time, Baelor's reply finally reached New Land Town.

Darean opened it impatiently, his gaze sharp, as though he meant to carve every word into his mind.

"Something is wrong with Father... I can't move the troops under Morlin's command."

"Darean, I can't summon-summon the bannermen immediately. I can't get Father's ring."

"I'm leaving Sunflower Hall and Three Towers to you. You must persuade them to prepare."

"Remember, you must remember: if you see anyone with black, bloodshot pupils, you must dispose of them."

"They're no longer human!"

"Garth was badly wounded by them and fled back to Oldtown. The maesters are helpless. There's no telling how much longer he can hold on!"

The entire letter was disjointed, with no logical order to speak of.

Darean saw only Baelor's personal seal.

But the situation was already clear: Baelor could no longer control what was happening in Oldtown.

Events had unfolded too quickly. The cavalry Darean had sent out had no time to get word back.

He had no choice but to face a decision!