[Kingslanding]
The sky over King's Landing was gray, and the wind carried a certain chill today as the sun hid behind the thick clouds. As the crowd gathered in the square outside the Great Sept, it was the day of Lord Eddard Stark's judgment. Word had spread quickly—everyone wanted to see the fate of the man who once stood as Hand of the King.
Considering that the populace of King's Landing doesn't often get much in terms of entertainment, this was becoming a pretty crowded event.
Guards lined the square, keeping the people back. At the front stood a raised platform, and in the middle of it, Ned Stark was brought in chains. His hands were tied, and his face was pale due to lack of water, food, light, and even oxygen if the horror stories about the castle dungeons held any truth, but he was calm nonetheless. He looked around, searching the crowd, hoping to not see his daughters anywhere near King's Landing. A faint smile appeared on his face when he couldn't spot his daughters or the man he entrusted them with. Only the angry, curious faces of the people of King's Landing stared back at him. And if dying here like a traitor meant that his daughters could be saved, then he had no regrets before he met the Stranger.
Well, maybe that might be one little grievance he had. He'd rather be buried alongside his kin under the shadow of the old gods, not here, where a Stranger in all name and religion would take him.
He was brought out here to be judged and given the final sentence by none other than the bastard king himself, Joffrey Waters. He dressed in gold and red, a smug look on his young face. That incestuous queen stood close behind him, her face like someone had stolen her dildo right under her nose before she was about to show some self-love. It was surprisingly talented of her to make herself look ugly with that perfectly practiced scowl, even after those legendary Lannister genes made her one of the most desirable females in the Seven Kingdoms.
She had already spoken to Joffrey, told him to spare Ned Stark—not what she wished, but a necessary step to make sure the realm didn't immediately break out in war. They needed him alive. They no longer had Arya or Sansa. If they killed Eddard, the North would rise in rebellion.
But Joffrey was not listening. Or more like the power was getting to his head, to the point that he wasn't listening to anyone.
A knight stepped forward and called out loudly, "Lord Eddard Stark is charged with treason. He lied to the realm and spread false claims that King Joffrey Baratheon is not the true heir. He tried to steal the throne through lies and deceit."
The crowd murmured, some booing, others whispering in confusion. Though many were there only to see a pompous lord who didn't even shit on their heads, considering themselves as gods over lowbirths like them, to be knocked a few pegs down.
Ned Stark remained quiet. He had already made his peace. For the sake of his daughters—wherever they were—he had confessed to crimes he had not committed. He had bent the knee. All to protect his family.
Then the knight turned to Joffrey. "Your Grace, what is your judgment?"
Cersei leaned in, whispering urgently to Joffrey. "Keep him alive. We need him."
But Joffrey, with a cruel smile, stood tall and raised his hand.
"My mother wishes to show mercy," he said loudly so all could hear. "But that is the heart of a soft woman. I am the king. Under my rule, I can't allow any treason. Treason must be punished."
Cersei's eyes widened, and her lips pursed up with tenseness. "No—"
"I command Ser Ilyn Payne to bring me his head," Joffrey declared.
A gasp swept through the crowd. Cersei stepped forward, trying to stop him. She by no means feared a war—her father would win pretty much any war by simply throwing gold at the problem. However, there would be much to pay for her if she depended on him. A very long and nasty lecture about letting a war break out would be one of them. But it was too late. The guards held her back.
I saw all this while being bent in among the countless numbers of watchers looking for a good medieval-style execution. I wouldn't lie that I too wouldn't mind seeing some heads roll. Not so much on pikes though, that's just creepy.
Do Asgardians do beheadings? I suddenly got curious and started searching through Thor's memories.
Strange how it works when it comes to two different sets of memories. My older one is just fine—a mere 17 years worth of memories with nothing, no matter how many embarrassing situations I had experienced over a small relatively short lifespan, compared to Thor's enormous lifespan doing nothing but hacking, smashing, drinking, and fucking.
I would have long gone mad with all those memories running rampantly inside my head if I went through all of them bit by bit. In fact, the actual useful information from Thor's memories wasn't that much.
Like, I would love to know how those power runes work to supercharge my godly powers and get the fuck out of this place without playing to this darn system's quest, but Thor remembered little to none of those useful bits.
Sigh.
Whatever. Shaking those thoughts out of my mind, I shifted my eyes back to the execution. I was just glad that my very basic disguise—which was a thin cloth over my blond locks and exploded arm muscles—helped me enough to avoid attracting any unwanted attention. Though that was about to change pretty soon.
Ned Stark looked up, his eyes finding the sky. He did not beg. He did not cry. He was a Stark of Winterfell, and he would die with honor.
Ser Ilyn Payne drew his greatsword and stepped forward.
And this was the time when I had to decide. Whether to save the honorable fool and save myself a shitload of trouble but keep on doing the babysitting, or let him die and let the hell break loose. Though I might have short-term satisfaction of seeing important people die.
After thinking much, my need of punching the man in person won over seeing him lose his life.
So the question was how, when the entire city with almost all the armor-clad knights were here.
"Hmmm…."
'Stats.'
——
Godly Body - Lvl 1
Mjolnir - Lvl 2
Thunder - Lvl 1
Available Upgrade Points - 3
Ongoing Quests -
[Wolf's Companion]
[Winter's Coming]
[Kill The Night King]
——
Hmm, 3 upgrade points huh… well it's about time these mortals learn that there is another god in Westeros worth enough to be made into another religion...
Did I just call myself a god? Sigh...
"Let's just get this over with."
xxx
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