"King Viserys is the Warrior incarnate! We must follow the guidance of the gods and fight under the Warrior's lance!"
Priest Ebony of Andalos shouted, then set down his silver-plated staff and knelt at Viserys's feet.
"Andals! All who believe in the Seven must walk the path of the Seven! Our defeat was not a simple loss; it was the Seven's punishment for faithlessness! Those who defy the Warrior's command will face divine retribution!" Ebony bellowed.
The Andals, faces and chests painted with the seven-pointed star, were roused from their panic and defeat into a new kind of fervor—a fanatical, intoxicated faith.
"The Warrior!"
"The Warrior!"
"We must obey the Warrior!" The cries of the Andal prisoners rose in waves.
The prisoners stood up, then knelt again towards Viserys.
Had they still held swords and spears, they would have laid them at Viserys's feet on the spot.
Viserys had originally planned to spend time slowly integrating these prisoners.
He hadn't expected that his dazzling combat record, combined with the "War Priest" Ebony's intimidation, would lead to their voluntary submission.
The power of religion was truly terrifying. However, this fit the Andal character; they worshiped the Warrior and revered knighthood.
Just like the rise of House Arryn, where an outstanding knight was elevated to kingship.
When the Bronze King sought to reclaim the Vale, the invading Andals united and chose a leader who was neither king nor prince nor lord—Artys Arryn.
He was the same age as King Robar II Royce, the best warrior of his generation, champion of sword, lance, and morning star, and a resourceful leader deeply loved by his companions.
"Andals, I have received the Warrior's call! We will fight under King Viserys's banner!" Ebony shouted.
"Fight!"
"Fight!" The Andals cheered, the atmosphere heating up instantly. With nearly all their bandit leaders and hardcore members dead, they were more than willing to follow the priest's choice.
"Do you kneel this easily usually?" Viserys asked curiously.
"This is the Andal way of survival, Your Grace," Bishop Ebony whispered to Viserys.
Viserys thought about it and realized it made sense. Andalos, the Rhoyne, and the Disputed Lands had all become crossroads and dumping grounds; anyone who came through took a piece.
These destitute Andals and Rhoynar lived in a state of constant low-intensity warfare, blowing whichever way the wind took them.
The two great peoples who once dominated the era were now shadows of their former selves. These soldiers would need step-by-step training.
"But I firmly believe you are the Warrior incarnate, Your Grace. I have never seen such a young and outstanding warrior," Ebony added quickly.
Going with the flow was true, but clothing Viserys in a sacred religious mantle was also true.
Viserys nodded. The Westerosi he brought were mostly followers of the Seven, so there was no religious barrier with these Andals.
"Then mold me into a great man, a warrior," Viserys told Ebony.
"You are the Warrior incarnate," Ebony dusted off his robes and said naturally.
Viserys was very satisfied with him. This was talent.
"My castle currently lacks a septon. I wonder if you are willing to take on this role," Viserys asked.
"I am willing, but Your Grace... for me to stay in the castle..." Ebony looked troubled.
"What concerns you?" Viserys asked him to speak plainly.
"The Dothraki hate castles and towns the most. That's why Andalos and the Flatlands have no towns, only villages and manors. Once there's a permanent castle or town, it's bound to be attacked by roaming horselords," Ebony explained hurriedly. "Although the Dothraki usually take the Valyrian Road and the Flatlands, the people of Andalos still fear them."
Viserys knew this. The Dothraki frequented the Flatlands of Pentos the most.
The Flatlands were constantly ravaged by the Khals. Whichever Khalasar wanted to see the sea had to pass through there, destroying every town along the way.
Although the Velvet Hills were further north, they occasionally attracted Khals and roving Dothraki bands.
"That is exactly why I want to unite the Andals. No more hiding, no more humiliation by Dothraki and bandits. Septon Ebony, surely you don't want the Andals to remain so destitute forever?" Viserys's voice carried a seductive note.
Ebony's thoughts churned. He had to admit Viserys's words made sense. The Andals had suffered bullying for too long.
But trying to fight the mighty Dothraki Khals with their current numbers was laughable.
"Forget it," Bishop Ebony thought, deciding to gamble.
Since the mass migration of wealthy Andals across the sea, the remaining poor Andals lived in poverty and instability. His job as a war priest supporting his wife and kids was fraught with risk.
The battlefield changed instantly; sometimes even he, a septon, had to wield a spear, and there was no guarantee he wouldn't be attacked.
Compared to that, he might as well try listening to Viserys.
After all, Ebony had never seen a noble-born warrior fight like Viserys in the Velvet Hills.
If Viserys failed, Ebony's investment failed. But if Viserys made a name for himself, Ebony would rise with him.
Thinking of this, Ebony gritted his teeth and made up his mind.
"Your Grace, I am willing to accept this charge and spread the gospel of the Seven on earth," Ebony knelt and said.
Viserys was very pleased. Ebony was a priest accustomed to the battlefield, not some scripture-chanting useless waste.
Such a person also had the mindset of a gambler.
"Very well." Viserys raised Flash Silver and laid it on Ebony's shoulder. "In the name of Viserys Targaryen, the Third of His Name, I appoint Ebony of Andalos as the first Septon of Viserys Fort."
Appointing a septon formalized Viserys Fort further. A proper castle usually had a household septon and a sept.
Regular septons were usually elected by a council of the Most Devout. Like the Great Sept of Baelor in King's Landing, although it carried out the King's will, formally it was mostly an election.
In the chaos of the Velvet Hills, there was no need for such formalities. As a secular leader, Viserys simply appointed a religious leader.
And the benefits Viserys gained didn't stop there.
"Your Grace," Septon Ebony—now Bishop Ebony—said. "Since we are to build this castle, I will try to win over the villages that sent troops this time, and bring my people here."
"If you can do that, it would be excellent," Viserys replied.
After all, Andals and Westerosi shared kinship and faith. Viserys didn't shy away from force, but winning over the local Andals peacefully was even better.