Game of Thrones: From a deserter to a high-ranking official

Chapter 197 The Ghost of Canney

Chapter 128 The Ghost of Canney

Lisanro stared in disbelief at the spot Tiberius was pointing to.

It's still Valantis! It's still their capital!

"Tiberius—you—you wouldn't be thinking of—going to Valantis again?!"

Tiberius raised his head and looked at Jules, Vito, and Lisanro, a smile on his face that was a mixture of extreme exhaustion and astonishing courage.

"Why not? They would never imagine that we, who have just fought a bloody battle with the vanguard sent by Marcus and are almost exhausted, would dare to turn around again and rush towards their supposedly safe rear—to rush towards the city that we just humiliated."

"Of course, the truth is..." Tiberius shrugged. "The truth is, when Marcus finds out, he will definitely be furious. Based on my understanding of this veteran, he will lay a trap along our inevitable route."

"Perhaps we're faster than them?" Vito asked, leaning on his spear.

"Quickly?" Tiberius's expression was somewhat strange.

"No matter how fast we are, can we outrun the news of two legions being routed by us?"

"Hmm, that's true." Vito stroked his beard, quite agreeing.

Dmitri stood on the ravaged battlefield, leaning on a spear he had picked up, its tip still dripping blood. His gaze was fixed blankly on the charred, shallow crater that was still emitting wisps of smoke.

Then, he slowly moved toward Tiberius, who was receiving a report from Jules and Vito on a distant mound. His lips trembled, as if he wanted to say something.

Habro grimaced as the physician used a red-hot iron to cauterize the edges of the wound (for disinfection). Hearing this, he turned his head, glanced at Dmitri's worldview-shattering expression, and then looked at the scorched crater.

"Damn, I've been in the disputed lands and the Stone Steps Islands for over a decade, seen the most cunning opponents, and suffered the most vicious blows—but this kind of thing—" He shook his head, as if trying to shake off some sense of unreality.

"—This is truly unprecedented. I've heard of stray arrows killing people on the battlefield, and I've heard of unlucky guys falling off their horses and being trampled to death by their own men, but—being struck by lightning? And with such perfect accuracy? And right next to the enemy commander who was leading the charge with his flag raised?"

He lowered his voice and leaned closer to Dmitri, "Even the storytellers of Reese wouldn't dare to make this up! The playwrights of Telosi would think it's utterly absurd! But it actually happened, right before our eyes."

He looked at Tiberius, who was surrounded by the crowd, with a complicated expression, and spoke in an even lower voice.

"This kid is either incredibly lucky to have the Drowned God and the King of Light working as his babysitters, or—there's something about him that we can't quite put our finger on."

"Anyway, I'll feel more confident working with him from now on, but I'll also have to be more careful."

A group of soldiers gradually gathered around, all wounded and exhausted, but their eyes shone with an alarming light. A buzzing murmur arose: "I saw it with my own eyes! That lightning, in a flash, struck that flagpole! It was like it had eyes!"

"General Valantisna, along with his flag, is gone—all that's left is the smell of burning flesh—"

"What is this? The Lord of Light manifesting? Or the Seven Gods punishing us?"

"Bullshit! It's definitely our commander! Have you forgotten? His previous plans were so unpredictable; he doesn't seem like an ordinary person!"

"Yes, yes, yes! Lightning!" Tiberius! Looking at it now, that nickname was fucking destiny!

"It's not just lightning, it's like the god of thunder descending to earth! With a leader like that, how could we not have a way to survive or make a fortune?"

""

"I knew it! The ruthlessness he showed when he trained us, and all those cunning ideas he had—he was no ordinary person!"

"It's the will of Heaven! It's absolutely the will of Heaven!"

Then, Severta stood on a high place and shouted loudly at the soldiers, spitting as he did so. He was so excited that he gesticulated wildly and slapped his thighs repeatedly.

"Did you see that?! Did you all fucking see that?! A bolt of lightning! Crack! Just one!" He imitated the motion of lightning striking down, his expression extremely exaggerated.

"That Valantis bastard waving the flag, that idiot with a head as small as a herring, didn't even utter a sound before he became roasted crow! There weren't even any bone fragments left!"

He slapped his thigh, his eyes gleaming, as if he'd discovered some profound truth. "What does this mean?! It means our captain!" He's being personally watched and protected by the Drowning God himself! Understand? You landlubbers!

He looked around at the bewildered or surprised faces, trying to instill his faith with the most straightforward logic.

"At sea, the Drowning God and the Storm God fight, and storms and whirlpools will capture you! On land? Heh! You still can't escape the Drowning God's gaze!"

"You think you're safe just because you're holding an iron pole? The Drowning God directly sent the lightning brothers from the heavens to help! This is divine punishment! True divine punishment! That guy tried to use the flag against our captain, which is to defy the will of the Drowning God!"

"Look, the Drowned God created the Iron People so that we might act without restraint, creating a new heaven and a new earth with blood, flames, and songs of joy, and engraving our names upon it. We would sail the world with fire and sword."

"And you children, look at the spoils of our plunder! This is the blessing the Drowning God has given us!"

The surrounding Ironborn roared in approval, their voices filled with fanatical faith, as they pounded their chests or weapons.

While the other soldiers may not have believed in any "drowning god," the inexplicable scene before them did instill in them an almost superstitious awe of Tiberius.

On the battlefield, soldiers are always willing to believe that their leaders have some extraordinary qualities.

Sevita became more and more excited as he spoke, but amidst his excitement, a trace of "devout" worry suddenly flashed through his mind, causing him to unconsciously touch his wet chin.

[Speaking of which—the captain is so favored by the drowning god, but it seems he has never formally received the drowning god's blessing?]

This is against the rules!

Logically, he should undergo a true drowning, be drenched by seawater, or even more directly, have his head submerged in the sea, or even be resurrected with a kiss of life! He should be blessed with the salt of the sea, the solidity of stone, and the strength of steel, to prove his courage and dedication to the Drowning God—otherwise, wouldn't this favor be somewhat unreliable? Or, wouldn't the Drowning God feel that we, the Iron People, haven't served him adequately?

This thought made him somewhat restless, and his gaze toward Tiberius shifted from pure, excited worship to a more cautious and fervent look, like that of an Ironborn priest planning some kind of "ritual."

He felt that, for the good of the captain and all those who followed him, including Vito and Jules, it seemed necessary to put this matter on the agenda—of course, at a suitable time and in a way that the captain could accept.

"Damn, my reputation has increased this much?" Tiberius smacked his lips as he looked at the almost "soaring" reputation value on the panel.

Putting everything else aside, the Lightning template is skyrocketing in popularity, and at the same time, a new title has emerged.

The Ghost of Canney