Game of Thrones: I Created the Magic Web

The halls of Storm's End were bathed in sunlight.

Joffrey sat enthroned at the highest point, upon the ancestral seat of House Baratheon.

Below him stood only one man.

“Lord Mace,” he said, inclining his head with a smile, “These past few days have been hectic, and I may not have been the best host.

Please, do not take offense if I have slighted you.”

“Your Grace is too kind; how could I possibly?”

The portly Lord Mace Tyrell beamed, his face a mask of smiles.

He sat on a large chair, unburdened by any restraints, yet his hands were pressed tightly against his thighs, as constrained as a prisoner awaiting judgment.

Perhaps that was precisely what he was.

Ever since his capture the day before, the 'bloated blowfish,' Lord Mace, had completely deflated, no longer the spirited and self-satisfied man he once was.

The punctured 'blowfish' had lost all his confidence.

The conclusion of his failure was glaringly obvious.

Almost without bloodshed, his vast army had been utterly lost in a single morning!

The linchpin, Renly Baratheon, had become the king's prisoner, and forty or fifty thousand soldiers had already knelt in surrender!

Nobles and knights had either died, surrendered, or been captured, with no one spared!

All thanks to that shadow monster from hell!

No! And the strange power of Storm's End! The cannons that launched thunder and fire!

How could mortals possibly stand against such things!?

Renly was finished, and Highgarden was finished.

Even if they were to raise another hundred thousand men, their failure could not be undone.

Mace Tyrell, at least, could recognize this.

He could only accept the judgment of fate.

Fortunately, he had not been mistreated or humiliated after his capture.

He had been given a rather comfortable room and even told that he was free to move about the castle.

It seemed the king still had some regard for Highgarden. At that moment, Lord Mace could not help but feel a secret relief.

Indeed, the Reach was the most prosperous region in the Seven Kingdoms, after all.

Surely, the king would not truly drive them to utter destruction?

After all, Renly had been the instigator; Highgarden was merely one of his many supporters.

All he had to do was kneel before him, right?

Assured that his life was not in danger, Lord Mace finally felt much more at ease and even managed to sleep soundly.

The next morning, he woke up and decided to take a walk.

As expected, no one stopped him.

In just one night.

He saw a Storm's End that was alien to him.

More solid and imposing than before, and more strangely magnificent than ever.

The drab, gray stone walls were adorned with countless golden patterns and crimson sigils.

The square battlements had been transformed into thousands upon thousands of proud knights, each with meticulously detailed faces and heroic postures, as lifelike as could be.

At first glance, they were similar to the gargoyles on the walls of Dragonstone.

But these statues were all of humans.

Lord Mace even saw knights from the army whose faces were identical to those of the statues, wearing cloaks emblazoned with the stag, the lion, and the six-pointed star.

So, they were using real people as models. What profound honor! What reason could these people have to betray Joffrey?

Lord Mace immediately grasped the crucial point.

As he walked along the walls, although there were not many soldiers nearby, he felt countless piercing gazes upon him, as if surrounded by an army.

Looking around, the statues were countless.

Lord Mace then looked towards the interior of the castle.

He had visited Storm's End several times, but he had never seen it like this.

The central tower seemed to have shrunk considerably, allowing him to see the figures moving on the rooftop terrace.

It also seemed to have moved much farther away, with each room and window in his field of vision appearing a size smaller.

The disorienting sensations left Mace stunned for a while.

Then, he carefully examined everything around him, and he finally understood: it was not that the tower had become shorter, but that the walls had grown taller, almost reaching the towering tower!

Nor was it that the tower had moved away, but that the walls had shifted, expanding the castle by more than double!

And within the castle, countless buildings and halls had sprung up out of nowhere, each over a hundred feet tall, wide, and sturdy, with the captured soldiers being put to work within them.

Was this Joffrey's sorcery?!

Mace could not help but be surprised and astonished.

Had this been done last night? Why hadn't he felt anything, and why had he slept so soundly?

Sorcery.

Lord Mace placed a hand on the wall, stroking it lightly; the texture was no different from ordinary stone.

Where was the sorcery? Was there a spell hidden inside?

He could not find the answer.

So, he released the stone and turned to look outside the castle.

Figures were mending the broken earth.

The pits of earth and scorched black colors were gradually disappearing, eventually blending into the original appearance of the land.

There were also many carriages on the connecting Kingsroad.

But at this time, the Kingsroad had been widened several times, enough for dozens of carriages to drive side by side.

The road stretched all the way to the north, beyond the line of sight, to King's Landing.

Lord Mace walked around the walls.

To the west, the road leading to Ashford was also being repaired and expanded.

That's right, Ashford still had several thousand troops and a large amount of supplies.

Lord Mace recalled.

But other than giving them away to King Joffrey for free, it was already meaningless.

To the south, the rugged paths were also being widened.

To the Eyrie? Was that necessary?

To the east was the blue sea.

Traveling by sea along the coast of Cape Wrath was undoubtedly the most convenient method.

The Eyrie, Amberly, Rain House—a sailing ship could reach them in just one day.

Mace looked down.

A fleet had already gathered at sea, numbering about one or two hundred.

Without a doubt, it was the royal fleet.

Too fast. Mace realized the problem.

There were only a few ships when the battle started yesterday; how could such a complete fleet have emerged so quickly overnight?

Could it be that Storm's End had planned everything long ago, arranging the timing so precisely?

His doubts were soon answered.

Following yesterday's core implantation of the soldiers, the captured nobles were also uniformly granted the 'Divine Grace' today.

So that was why. Lord Mace could not help but let his true feelings show on his face.

Divine Grace!

There was such a miraculous creation! No wonder King Joffrey won every battle!

People could actually communicate like this! As if speaking face to face, without any restrictions or delays.

How could ravens compare?!

Why did the gods favor Joffrey so much!?

Lord Mace could not help but imagine what it would be like if Divine Grace had initially favored Highgarden.

It would certainly be much, much better than it was now.

Thinking of his current situation, Mace Tyrell could not help but sigh with dismay.

It was rare for the captured nobles to gather together.

Randyll Tarly approached Lord Mace to report what he had seen and heard.

The Tarlys were always most concerned with and best at military matters.

Lord Mace then learned that:

King Joffrey's army was still training rigorously, day in and day out, as if preparing for war.

Storm's End had deployed as many as six hundred cannons.

And according to the soldiers' casual talk, the 'ship cannons' on the naval fleet were even more powerful and more numerous.

The king's Royal Guards had all shared the 'Power of Divine Grace,' each possessing unique powers.

Based on their performance during mutual training, defeating ten enemies was commonplace, and defeating a hundred was not impossible.

The king was still selecting more people who were qualified to earn the 'Power of Divine Grace.'

In short, they were invincible.

Randyll Tarly's words were not pleasant to hear.

But Lord Mace knew that they should all be true.

Highgarden must not be buried with Renly!

Lord Mace made up his mind.

Finally, today, he had the opportunity to surrender.

He had to consider it carefully.

He raised his head and squeezed out what he thought was the most sincere smile for the king.

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