Gerold was fast, deadly, and precise; his sword severed the Septa's hand, and he spun his body, swinging the blade again to cut the second Septa's arm. Amidst the screams of pain from the two sisters, the remaining Septa was still unharmed and didn't hesitate to fire at Rhaella.
The bolt was loosed from the crossbow, tearing through the air as it sped toward Rhaella. Surprisingly, someone threw themselves between the bolt and Rhaella, taking the hit for the Dowager Queen. It was the same boy who had warned them of the assassination attempt.
Perhaps because he was small, the bolt struck just below his shoulder and above his heart; had it been any lower, it would have pierced his heart. A painful groan escaped his lips as he fell to the ground, his face turning pale.
The hundreds of guards surrounding them were quick to form a circle, securing the area, while several soldiers rushed to flank the Dowager Queen and the Princess.
Gerold Hightower, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, had already immobilized the three Septas, who were now screaming countless insults, offending every incestuous generation of House Targaryen as well as their own crime.
Perhaps because they were so agitated and furious, the tunics held by shoulder straps slipped slightly, revealing a horrific and ugly tattoo, the face of a terrifying demon.
The commoners, separated by the area protected by the Targaryen soldiers, widened their eyes at the sight of the tattoos. The entire sacred image they held of the church was put to the test at that moment. However, with the Church's assassination attempt against the two angels who had distributed food and blankets, the image of the church shattered like a mirror.
It took only one person throwing a rotten tomato at the three women to start the chaos; screams of anger, resentment, and sadness hung in the air like a chorus of chaotic and inconsistent voices. Rotten food, horse manure, and even stones were hurled at the three women.
One of the stones hit one of the women, staining her face with blood. The woman naturally became furious and cursed the commoners, screaming that they would all burn in the flames of hell. This only inflamed the population's rage further.
The betrayal of their own faith, combined with anger and resentment, turned the crowd into true, maddened demons.
The soldiers, who were beginning to find it difficult to maintain the perimeter, started to retreat while keeping the Dowager Queen and Princess safe in the center. However, the commoners wanted to tear apart and kill the three women; how could they be satisfied with just throwing things?
The commoners collided with the shields, and one of the soldiers abruptly felt his legs go weak and fell, opening a gap in the defensive formation. With the breach in the line, the commoners poured in, transforming into literal beasts.
Daenerys watched in horror as Gerold Hightower was forced to retreat and the three women fell into the hands of the crazed commoners. Their clothes were torn by the people's fierce hands; punches landed on their faces and mouths.
Within two minutes, the three women were dead, and their heads were impaled on spears and raised high as trophies. Daenerys saw it all happen as the population celebrated the brutal death of the three women.
Even Rhaella hadn't expected everything to go so well, not just well, but perfectly. The anger, resentment, and fear of the commoners had created a riot she hadn't anticipated. At that moment, the commoners weren't satisfied with just three heads. From their crazed, almost cannibalistic looks, they wanted even more blood.
Rhaella gripped her daughter's arm and looked at Gerold with a solemn gaze. "The people have gone mad; they're heading toward the Great Sept of Baelor. We have to retreat, or we'll be trapped in this riot."
Gerold didn't hesitate; he quickly formed a defensive circle around Rhaella, Daenerys, and the two siblings who had warned of the assassination attempt. With the formation ready, the Lord Commander pushed through the crowd, shoving aside anyone in their path.
"These people have gone insane," Daenerys said, still in disbelief as she helped the boy who had taken a bolt for her mother. She had personally seen these men behead three women and display their heads on spears like trophies.
Unlike Daenerys, who had never seen human malice, Rhaella was much calmer. She had suffered and seen how ugly humans could be. She could see that these people, who called themselves faithful, only wanted to vent their accumulated rage and greed for the gold and silver in the Great Sept of Baelor. Some might be true believers, but all of them?
"Let's return quickly; it's not safe." Even knowing that Cadmus was watching her from somewhere, Rhaella still felt insecure in the middle of an enraged crowd. Despite wanting to say more, Daenerys remained silent, following along with a gaze that grew increasingly hungry for power.
She wanted to change this world, even if only a little.
Cadmus, now perched atop a house, swinging his feet back and forth, rested his chin on his palm with a smile. His dark green eyes watched the enraged crowd with a satisfied look.
"I hope you like my gift, Archbishop," Cadmus murmured, his smile widening. He was a very vengeful person, especially toward his enemies. The Faith of the Seven had dared to slander and insult him; he would return it tenfold.
"However, it's a surprise that the people became so enraged. Have they been harboring anger and resentment for so long?" Cadmus murmured, watching the crowd raise spears with severed heads.
"Humans are animals like any other," the mage said, shaking his head. Faced with such barbarity, how could one differentiate humans from animals? Aside from a few sadistic animals like dolphins, orcas, and others, it was rare for animals to be so barbaric.
"In the end, the first part of the plan went perfectly. Let's move on to the second part." Cadmus stood up and murmured, watching the crowd head toward the Great Sept of Baelor. He couldn't let these people kill the Archbishop.
For the people to completely lose their reverence for the Faith of the Seven, they had to see the city's highest religious authority die at the hands of the king. Only then would it give the impression that the king was supreme above all others, even the gods.
"I hope Daenerys likes it, for she will light the pyre to burn the Archbishop alive. Along with the birth of the dragons, it will be a heavy blow to the church." Cadmus was growing increasingly anxious to see the Archbishop's expression when he realized he was the cause of the dragons' birth after nearly two centuries.
In command of the Great Sept of Baelor was the Red Archbishop, Roland Gray, an old man wearing a red clerical tunic. He had a gold necklace around his neck that hung to his chest, where a medallion made of seven different-colored jewels rested.
Behind the archbishop stood hundreds of Septons, Septas, and a dozen Silent Sisters, along with forty Holy Brothers and Sisters, the lowest rank in the Faith of the Seven. Curiously, all were armed with swords, axes, and war hammers.
This, according to the peace treaty made between Jaehaerys I Targaryen and the High Septon, was strictly forbidden. The Faith could not have weapons or armies, like the Faith Militant that had disappeared for hundreds of years. Of course, only a fool would think the Faith Militant had been destroyed.
Creating soldiers was something any noble could do, let alone the most powerful organization on the Continent of Westeros.
At that moment, the Archbishop wore a calm expression as he watched the cathedral gates shuddering from the people trying to force their way in. The seven-colored medallion seemed strangely bright, while the archbishop's blue eyes emanated a seven-colored light.
Suddenly, the archbishop heard the sound of chewing in the background and couldn't help but look angrily at the Septon brave enough to eat on such an occasion.
However, his expression turned cold upon seeing a young man with black hair and dark green eyes, eating soup while looking at him with a smile.
"My apologies, I was famished," Cadmus said with a laugh. "Conspiring takes a lot of energy."
"Who are you?" Roland asked in a deep, cold tone. The eyes of hundreds of people focused on Cadmus, who finished eating before responding with a smile.
"You've spread lies and slander about me. Are you sure you don't know who I am?" Cadmus asked with a laugh, looking at the medallion on the Archbishop's chest with a curious gaze. He felt a vast amount of energy within the precious stones of the medallion.
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Read my other books:
Game Of Thrones: The God-Emperor of Planetos (500,000 words written).
Percy Jackson: Godwyn the Golden.
Game Of Thrones: The King's Court Wizard