GOT: My Secret Lover is sansa - Chapter 171 God?? Maybe?

Chapter 171: Chapter 171 God?? Maybe?

“Look to the west!” the scout bellowed, his voice carrying over the din of the soldiers. He didn’t just deliver the message; he leaned into the theatricality of it, his voice dripping with exaggerated reverence.

“The King is performing a miracle! With a single wave of his hand, he is pulling a palace of pure white marble from the very mist! He has commanded the stone beasts of Aegon’s Hill to guard his new divine seat! The gods walk among us, and he is our King!”

The panic in the camp instantly morphed into a hushed, fervent reverence. Thousands of men turned their eyes westward.

Even from two miles away, they could see the unnatural, shimmering white fog rolling over the distant bluff, and the two massive, winged silhouettes perched menacingly on either side of it.

Whispers spread like wildfire through the ranks. He commands the stone. He builds castles from thin air.

The men had already witnessed Alaric shatter armies and defy the laws of the world. For the common foot soldier, this was simply the final, undeniable proof.

Who else but a living god could reshape the world on a whim?

Standing near the edge of the command tents, Ned Stark watched the distant bluff.

He stood perfectly still, his thick arms crossed tightly over his chest, his grey eyes narrowed against the morning sun. Ned was a pragmatic man, rooted deeply in the ancient traditions of the North and the Old Gods.

But as he watched a palace literally materialize out of a magical fog, the stoic Lord of Winterfell couldn’t deny the chilling reality.

A few yards away, the reaction was vastly different. Mace Tyrell, the Lord of Highgarden, was practically vibrating with joy.

He stood among a group of his bannermen, his chest puffed out like a proud peacock, an enormous, beaming smile plastered across his face.

“Did you hear that?” Mace boasted loudly, clapping a bewildered Florent knight on the shoulder. “A palace of pure white marble, summoned from the heavens! A divine seat for a divine ruler!” He chuckled, a deep, booming sound that carried over the hushed whispers of the men. “And to think, that is my son-in-law! My sweet Margaery will be the Queen of a castle built by the gods themselves! The Tyrell bloodline has never been stronger!”

While Ned Stark brooded on the implications of a god-king, Mace Tyrell was already calculating the endless prestige it brought to his House.

And out on the western bluff, Alaric simply stood between his gargoyles, waiting for the mists to clear and his new empire to truly begin.

…

Current Balance: 19,820 MP

Alaric stood on the edge of the bluff, the coastal wind pulling at his dark cloak. The thick white mist continued to roll over the grass as the Ivory Cloud Palace slowly knitted itself together.

Four hours was a long time to wait, but it gave him time to think about logistics. A massive, luxurious palace was completely useless if he didn’t have the right people to run it.

Furthermore, Margaery, Sansa, and Roslin were going to be living there. With King’s Landing still crawling with leftover spies and cutthroats, he wasn’t going to trust their safety to regular soldiers or hired servants.

He needed a dedicated household staff.

Alaric pulled the blue interface back up. He navigated to the new summon he had unlocked earlier that morning—the Black Night Maids.

They were exactly what he needed: elite espionage and protection units completely disguised as highborn handmaidens. They didn’t sleep, they had perfect memories for intercepting documents, and they were lethally armed.

He tapped the screen, selecting twenty of them. At 200 points each, that cost him exactly 4,000 MP.

Next, he looked at his perimeter defense. The two stone gargoyles were perfect for intimidating armies and destroying siege engines, but they were too massive to patrol a courtyard or stand guard outside a bedroom door. He needed a fresh rotation of heavy infantry to lock down the palace grounds before the main army moved in.

He selected 15 new Blood Knights. At 300 points a piece, that was another 4,500 MP.

It was a total spend of 8,500 points.

[Transaction Confirmed: -8,500 MP]

[Current Balance: 11,320 MP]

Alaric swiped the screen away. A sharp, localized drop in temperature swept over the grass behind him, followed by the faint hum summons taking physical form.

He turned around.

Standing in perfect, silent rows were twenty women. They looked entirely human. They wore elegant, dark dresses that fit perfectly into a highborn court, their hair neatly pinned back. They were beautiful.

Behind them stood the ten towering Blood Knights, their heavy crimson armor gleaming dull in the morning sun. The sheer size of the seven-foot giants contrasted sharply with the slim, unassuming maids standing in front of them.

Neither group made a sound. They just stood there, waiting for his command.

Alaric walked forward, his boots crunching softly on the grass.

“The palace will be finished in a few hours,” Alaric said, his voice carrying easily over the wind. He looked at the maids. “When the mist clears, I want the interior locked down. Sweep every room, check every hallway, and establish safe routes. You are the royal household now. No one gets near my wives without you knowing about it first. If you find anyone inside who doesn’t belong there, kill them quietly.”

The maid standing at the front of the formation stepped forward. She offered a flawless, graceful curtsy. “It will be done, Your Grace,” she said. Her voice was smooth and perfectly polite, completely betraying the lethal nature of her orders.

Alaric nodded and looked up at the giant knights. “Set a hard perimeter around the bluff. No one from the Tyrell or Northern camps comes up this hill until I give the order. If anyone tries to test the boundary, break their legs.”

The Blood Knights didn’t speak. They simply drew their massive broadswords in unison, the heavy steel ringing sharply in the air, and turned to march toward the edges of the bluff to take up their posts.

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