(Third-person perspective)
The Moonlight Pact marked the unification of the mountain tribes under the leadership of Aermir. The Moon Brothers and other tribes, who had previously ruled independently, now witnessed the power of unity.
As the moon cast its silvery light upon the mountain peaks, Aermir, Omer, and the other Mountain Clans chiefs forged an alliance through a symbolic exchange. Aermir gave Omer a weirwood sapling, for he was the leader of this alliance.
"Chief Omer, may this sapling serve as a memorial to our alliance, and may the Moon Brothers become a beacon for our First Men ' resurgence on this land," Aermir said solemnly.
Omer placed the saplings on the ground, and each chieftain brought a prisoner to the front. They forced them to kneel and swiftly slit their throats. As Aermir continued chanting his ritual, the blood of the murderers began to flow onto the weirwood saplings. The blood, like blood snakes, slid up the tree and burrowed into its roots.
The ground began to tremble slightly, and the tree began to vibrate as well. Then, it began to grow at a speed visible to the naked eye. In just six hours, it had become a fully grown weirwood tree. Aermir connected this newly grown tree to the root network of all the weir trees.
The next day, after finishing his other business, Aermir had to return to his Citadel, but this time he didn't need to fly. He would use a new spell, one that would allow him to travel between the weirwood. Before, he could only observe the area around the trees, but now, as long as he had enough magic, he could move from one tree to another. However, there was a limitation: he had to touch the tree first. He placed his hand on the tree and chanted.
"Tingtonite ( Tree Root Teleportation )"
One of the tree's roots popped up, forming a ring the size of Aermir, and then a blinding green light burst forth from the ring, settling like the surface of water. It was truly a very powerful spell. He would have to expend all his magic power to travel from Mountains of the Moon to Moat Cailin.
He took the Valyria greatsword from Omer, Omer held it respectfully, gazing at it greedily. He couldn't help but feel excited about what he might learn from this axe. He had never heard of Valyrian steel weapons possessing First Men runic magic. Because the axe had never been used, but rather passed down as a family heirloom, it was in better condition than Royce's armor, yet its magic had still been depleted.
As Aermir stepped through the gate, he felt as if he had been launched by a giant slingshot. He was propelled forward by a tremendous force, and when he opened his eyes, all he saw was the weirwood of Moat Cailin. He didn't actually see the tree, but rather sensed its exact location. The next second, he stepped down from the weirwood in the center of Moat Cailin's private garden.
Over the next few months, he experimented with the spell extensively and discovered some problems. He was the only one who could pass through his gate. Even his familiar couldn't use it, and he could only pass through the gate carrying a weight roughly equal to his own body weight. He was a large man, weighing 100 kilograms, so that wasn't a small amount, but he couldn't carry large quantities of goods, nor could he become an instant-traveling merchant among those trees.
today
Aermir's presence enveloped the Moon Brothers, and the once untamed warriors knelt in respect before their leader. The tribe's transformation was swift, a testament to Aermir's influence and his indomitable strength.
Chief Omer, once a majestic figure draped in fur, now stood clad in gleaming steel armor, a symbol of the transformation sweeping through the Moon Brothers. His eyes, once filled with doubt, now held reverence for the Druid who had brought them prosperity. Aermir, draped in a cloak of leaves and moss, nodded in greeting to Omer.
"I see the strength of our First Men in every one of you warriors. You are all ready to meet the challenges that are about to come!" Aermir said, his voice echoing through the mountain air.
Although Omer was initially reluctant to bow to outsiders, he found himself acknowledging the tangible benefits that Aermir had brought to his tribe in those short two years. None of him or any of the other mountain tribes had died of starvation. Steel weapons and armor were merely the material manifestation of the prosperity of the Moon Brothers and all the other Mountain Clans. They had discarded bronze or broken steel weapons and armor.
"Druid, under your leadership, our people are thriving. The Mountain Clans are united under your banner, and the Moon Brothers are ready to follow in your footsteps," Omer declared, his words resounding.
Over the past two years, Aermir has not only provided them with steel weapons and armor, but also gifted them 2,000 enchanted swords and armor. Of course, these were not armors for his own troops, but rather failed attempts.
These 2,000 weapons and armors were masterpieces crafted by Aermir's the Smith and himself when he was a novice in magic. They were all enchanted, but these things were not stable. His men were too precious to be allowed to use these dangerous items.
Those things would explode like fragmentation grenades if they clashed with other weapons. Sure, they were durable in terms of steel, but the inscriptions or magic inside were problematic; they would explode after 1,000 uses or even just one. Aermir thought it better to use them in this battle than let them gather dust. That's why he gave all of them to the Mountain Clans.
He planned to give them a fabricated reason, such as if their faith in the Old Gods wavered during battle, these weapons might abandon them and explode in the Old Gods ' wrath, so that every time they exploded and killed the user and those around them, they would directly blame the user.
"These artifacts," Aermir began to tell the assembled Mountain Clans chiefs, "Carry the blessings of the Old Gods. They are not merely tools, but vessels of divine power. However, their power is inextricably linked to the unwavering faith of their wielders."
The Mountain Clans chiefs were eager to arm their warriors with such powerful weapons, and they listened intently as Aermir continued his explanation.
"The magic within is subtle, intimately connected to unwavering faith in the Old Gods. If doubt or disbelief corrupts the holder's heart, the magic will backfire, incurring the wrath of the Old Gods," Aermir explained in detail, his words weaving a story of divine consequences.
A murmur of awe and trepidation swept through the assembled leaders. The Stone Crows Raven leader Dolf, picked up an axe from his weapon case and bowed respectfully. His eyes gleamed with reverence and anticipation.
" Druid Aermir, we accept these Gift with gratitude. Our faith in the Old Gods is unwavering, and we will wield these weapons with the conviction that only true believers possess," Dolf declared, his voice echoing through the mountain pass.
Aermir shook his head and said,
"Chief Dolf the Stone Crows Raven, these weapons are for ordinary soldiers. I have brought a special Gift for the leaders and their elite warriors who protected our commanders in battle."
Aermir pointed to several crates separated from the others and said, "These weapons are fine, but they're not the best either. I can't give defective weapons to the leaders and let them die on the battlefield; that would break the command system. I brought several hundred weapons and armor of average quality. That way, even if all 2,000 weapons are destroyed, the leaders will be safe."