Beneath the Red Dragon

A scholar laughed disdainfully: ”These forty Dragon Kings of Valeria, high-profilely declaring their country as ’Freehold’, a Fortress of Freedom, is enough to make me scoff,”

”And their colonies outside the mainland are all slave societies without exception, all keeping the Pure as mercenaries to become their violent institutions, yet claiming to be the Nine Great Free Trade City-States,”

The scholar lowered his head, wrote down two lines in his notebook, then looked up and said, ”In my opinion, these Dragon King Clans need to be purged, then personnel should be installed to re-govern, to funnel benefits to the Imperial. What are your opinions?”

”Since they do not respect the Divine Spirit, let us, the Beloved and people of the Divine Spirit, give them their final release.”

...

Valeria, among the mountains of the Fourteen Fire Peaks, is rich in ore, which the Valerians crave eagerly. The Valerians captured many slaves from conquered lands, forcing them to mine ore from the flames of the Fourteen Peaks.

Through this, Valeria gained a vast amount of wealth, and the magical ore for forging Valyrian Steel Swords.

In the Fourteen Fire Peaks, the most common cause of death for slaves in the mines is being suffocated in the stifling heat of the mines, leading to frequent uprisings.

However, since the Valerians are proficient in magic and dragon taming, resistance is often suppressed in moments.

The number of slaves who died from exhaustion in the mines is unimaginably large.

In the rare moments of rest, countless Valerian slaves from all over the world prayed to their respective gods, praying not for hope, but for release after this life ends.

In the dark underground mines, it was sweltering, and occasionally flames would suddenly burst from the mine floor, setting alight the numb bodies of the slaves.

Yet the slaves still used their remaining strength to pray to their gods.

Thus, the entire mine echoed with the low murmurs of prayers.

A slave knelt in the dark depths of the mine, praying softly, covering his head with a tattered cloth to block out sounds and sights, shielding himself from the prayers of other slaves.

He used to have his own name, but now it no longer mattered.

Like hundreds of other slaves from different countries, he prayed in his own language to his god, asking for the same thing—the end of suffering, and release.

However, even this extremely ordinary and simple request did not receive a divine response.

In the reddened darkness, his face appeared faintly, ”Could it be that this torment must go on endlessly forever,”

At this moment, he heard prayers in hundreds of languages, though he couldn’t understand them, he realized that what these people sought was the same thing.

Suddenly he realized, these countless slaves, rather than praying to several, dozens, or hundreds of different gods, were actually praying to the same god.

All the Valerian slaves were praying to one god for release, the different incarnations of the God of Death.

At this moment, he smiled and stood up from the darkness, realizing that the King of Light, Drowned God, Goat, Night Lion, and Stranger were all just incarnations of the God of a Thousand Faces, just another face of the God of a Thousand Faces.

He stepped out of the darkness, walked slowly through the deep mine passage, chanting softly: ”Before the God of a Thousand Faces, all beings are equal,”

”All mortals must serve, whether slave or monarch,”

”All mortals must meet death, whether kind or cruel,”

”People worship their own gods, but at the end of life’s path,”

”The God of a Thousand Faces is waiting!”

His deep chanting drowned out the prayers throughout the mine, echoing and resonating.

A slave stood up, swaying and following behind him, joining the chanting ranks.

Another slave raised a trembling hand, echoing the magical chant in his own language.

One by one, slaves gradually gathered into a tide, coming from different countries, speaking different languages, but today, they were all given the gift of being disciples of the ’God of a Thousand Faces’.

”Before the God of a Thousand Faces, all beings are equal,”

”All mortals must serve, whether slave or monarch,”

”All mortals must meet death, whether kind or cruel,”

”People worship their own gods, but at the end of life’s path,”

”The God of a Thousand Faces is waiting!”

The mysterious melody drifted through the deep, profound mine.

Meanwhile, in the city of Valeria, amid the crowded populace, red-robed monks stepped into a church-like building in the gradually descending night.

The emblem hanging above the building was a red heart of flames, indicating that this was the Church of the King of Light R’hllor.

The King of Light, called the True God by his monks and witches, is the god of warmth and life.

Believers call it the Heart of Holy Flame, the God of Shadow and Flame.

The red-robed monks were priests serving the King of Light R’hllor.

Many vagrant children were often entrusted to be raised by the temples of the King of Light, which also purchased slave children, raising them to become monks, samurai, or temple courtesans.

Now, in the temple, fires blazed brightly as many scarlet-robed monks gathered around the flames, performing a unique ceremony, worshipping their True God, the King of Light R’hllor.

They prayed for R’hllor to grant them dawn, staring intently at the flames, hoping to see visions of the future within them.

Believers had faith that R’hllor would reveal his brilliance at times, showing them visions of the future.

A witch in a scarlet robe scattered powder into the flames, praying for the brilliance of the King of Light.

Whoosh,

In the next moment, the flames suddenly swept up, and within them, an incredibly terrifying, immensely majestic head appeared. Those dark golden eyes seemed to pierce through all souls and bored into the eyes of the red-robed witch witnessing this moment.

”Ah,”

The red-robed witch screamed, tears of blood flowing from her closed eyes, and the surrounding monks quickly stepped forward to support this uniquely positioned red-robed witch.

But at this moment, the harmed red-robed witch seemed to be strongly stimulated, pushing away the many monks, shouting in a sharp voice: ”Stay away from me, stay away from me,”

”Hehehehe, hahahahaha,”

”That is destruction, that is birth, that is the end, that is the beginning,”

”It’s over, it’s over,”

”That one thousand years have ended,”

”The evil god with a dragon’s head is born from Hell,”

”Coming to beguile the nations of the earth,”

”Coming to cleanse the order of the eight directions of the world,”

”To gather for war on earth, to reset the rules of the world,”

”They will be as mighty as dragon and god, numerous as the sands of the sea,”

”Those who yield to them shall receive forgiveness and respite, those who oppose them shall meet flame and thunderbolt!”