(Third-person perspective)
In the ancient grove, Ser Harlan and Ser Martin uttered accusations of demons and blasphemy, their faces contorted with rage and their voices booming with indignation. The grove itself seemed to tremble with their fury, and a tense atmosphere hung in the air.
Throughout the storm, the enigmatic Emre the Druid remained calm, a symbol of tranquility amidst the tempest. His reply was elegant, his voice carrying not only wisdom but also a touch of sorrow. Emre began to speak, his words flowing like a gentle breeze through the grove.
"Honorable knights, I mean no harm, my intentions are pure. My path is guided by reverence for the ancient forces that permeate our world. The Old Gods are the guardians of natural harmony, offering us wisdom and guidance beyond the mundane. What can your gods offer us besides gold?"
The standoff escalated, tempers burning like Wildfire. Ser Harlan's face contorted into a mask of contempt.
"Ridiculous! You're talking about pagan superstition, and claiming it's superior to the grace of the Seven? Such beliefs have no place here!"
Emre's gaze remained unwavering, his eyes gleaming with a profound understanding that seemed to transcend the boundaries of reality itself.
"No, Your Excellency, my purpose is not to undermine your faith, but to reveal the underlying structure of our world. I only wish to bring light to the darker parts of this world."
Aermir thought it was perfect and regretted not having thought of it. He continued to provoke the knights with every word he uttered, though he did not directly insult the Seven. Instead, he provoked their nerves.
"Hmph! Even the thought that these so-called gods and true believers coexist on the same land is an insult! The Land of the Seven does not welcome you!"
As the debate intensified, the people in the grove seemed to hold their breath. Then, as the tension escalated, the atmosphere shifted. A thick, ethereal Fog enveloped the entire gathering, the air thick with magic, and the power of nature gathered around them. Emre's voice resonated with an otherworldly quality as he raised his hands in prayer to the heavens.
"Oh, ancient spirits, who have witnessed the passage of time, I beseech you to reveal your presence and power!"
The grove trembled, the leaves rustled in the unseen breeze, and a sublime feeling permeated the air. The fog deepened. Then, Emre made a plea in a thunderous voice with a low echo, which resonated in the hearts of all the witnesses.
"Let these doubting souls see the truth of Your power, see the essence of Your ancient wisdom. Unveil the mystery, let them experience the divine energy that permeates our world!"
Silence fell over the grove, and then it happened. The ground beneath Ser Harlan and Ser Martin trembled, roots rising from the earth to surround them. A flicker of panic crossed their eyes, and the crowd gasped at the sight before them. Emre's voice, now a conduit for the void he summoned, resounded as loudly as the heartbeat of the world itself.
"See this presentation as an invitation, not a challenge—an invitation to embrace unity of all forces, an invitation to understand that faith is not just one person's domain, but a tapestry woven from countless threads. I invite you to blend your threads with mine."
But the knights refused. Their hearts hardened, and they uttered vile words. Ser Martyn roared, his voice like a dagger aimed at Emre's conviction.
"We will not succumb to your heretical witchcraft!"
Emre's eyes gleamed, and the wind around him howled mournfully. Then, Emre spoke a final plea in a voice as if the earth itself were speaking, his words fervent and sacred.
"Then heed the call of the Old Gods —the God of Nature, the Lord of Harmony, the God of Balance. As you stand on this sacred land, witness the power of the Old Gods, feel the weight of their gaze upon your souls, and let their wrath wash away your arrogance. May their anger scorch your hearts, ignite the spark of understanding, and guide you toward humility and reverence."
Thunder roared, the earth trembled, and the crowd held their breath and retreated.
"In the name of the Old Gods, I implore them to judge you. May this wrathful plea be a beacon, reminding people that in the realm of faith, pride breeds discord, while humility brings harmony. May you remain humble before divine wrath, and may your hearts open to truth that transcends your own faith."
Lightning illuminated the sky. Thunder roared, as if the heavens had heard Emre's plea, and then, in a divine resonance, lightning converged upon the knights.
As these two once-powerful warriors were consumed by the wrath of the heavens, their forms scorched by the power summoned by Emre, the crowd gasped in astonishment. An eerie silence fell, broken only by whispers of surprise and reverence.
Kneeling before the Druid, the witnesses seemed to glimpse a truth beyond the mortal realm—a truth that embodies unity in diversity and harmony in disharmony. A lively discussion erupted in the hall, as everyone pondered the profound implications of what had transpired.
Throughout all of this, Robin Flint's eyes, once filled with doubt, now shone with fervent light. The events of that moment had left an indelible mark on him, igniting a newfound reverence and passion for the Old Gods.
The Druid's plea not only revealed the power of nature but also dispelled people's doubts and ignited a newly discovered flame of faith in the hearts of those present. In the ensuing conversation, people were filled with awe, fear, and heartfelt respect for the Emre the Druid and the ancient power he invoked.
Aermir transformed into an eagle and flew away. He was dizzy with the thought of his epic performance.
The Oscar Award was awarded to Aermir Drasil for his epic performance as the Emre the Druid, a fervent follower of the Old Gods.
Bo asked curiously.
"Father, what is Oscar?"
- It would take too much time to explain; just look at my memory and you'll understand.-
He had not initially intended to create such a spectacle; his purpose was to convey a message to the people of the North that fertile lands were assured for those who followed the Old Gods. However, the knights offered him a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He felt he should occasionally expose himself to the fanatical followers of the Faith of the Seven and carry out divine punishment in the name of the Old Gods.
Nothing draws people to religion more than stories of divine wrath and punishment. While people may claim to love benevolent gods, they are often more enamored with tales of divine retribution. His plan is working; he is gradually tightening the noose around the House Manderly and the other Faith of the Seven of the North.