A few hours earlier from the previous chapter.

...

Doran Martell was giving me an utterly done look right about now.

"Let me see if I understand this," The man remarked calmly as his brother shifted behind his back. Oberyn's gaze unlike Doran's was not on me but on his somewhat shaking sister and niece. The princess currently locking her arms around her daughter's neck, a faraway look in her eyes.

Figures she'd feel the divine influence marching towards her home.

Sandor and my Jonin commander- Because really that's what the 'head' faceless man practically was right about now- We're both behind me. Well, the ninja was. Sandor was leaning back against the wall, currently counting his options as he presumably waited for me to drop the dragon part of my explanation.

"The Warrior." Doran managed to say with a straight face, proving he was entirely capable of believing in divinity- Credit to me I suppose? "Is currently marching to my doorstep, amidst a fog of sorts that that will lead him through my kingdom without an eye catching him nor a sound made?"

I nodded.

"With an army of a hundred thousand men, and you want me not to call my banners?" He held the bridge of his nose. "This is exactly what I was afraid would happen!"

I scrunched my nose at that.

"That the bloody Warrior would come after you?"

"That an army would march onto Sunspear!" Doran thundered back.

I just tilted my head at him.

"So?"

His expression broke at the word as the figurative fire left him.

"As for why you shouldn't call your banners," I continued on, assuming sense had finally reached him. "Even if you somehow managed to beat him to your doorstep-" Incredulousness filled his brother. "-What good is ten, twenty- Maybe even thirty thousand going to do?" I scoffed at him. "They wouldn't even slow him down."

Wariness replaced the man at those words.

"Like, you did get the part where he's enchanted his men right?"

"How so?" Oberyn cut in, a steel look in his eyes. "Surely you could do the same for us no? To fewer men would not your enchantment be better?"

I shrugged at that, leaning back into the seat.

"I mean, why bother?" I questioned him seriously. "I mean yeah sure, he has all of them enchanted with borderline Valyrian Steel weapon and armor-" Dread filled the younger brother's face, while Doran closed his eyes and started praying of all things. "Ten thousand of 'em have all of his skills-" Doran's gaze snapped open, wide. "And a hundred of 'em have his divinity? So they're practically immortal compared to you... And even if the main head gets lopped off, he'd just jump into one of those, and not to mention he's effectively using their senses at the same time, so even if your men could damage his army, he'd certainly see through your attack form."

There was a heavy sense of defeat rolling out of them all- Sandor included.

The only one not fazed at all, was, of course, my ninja.

I shrugged again.

"And you want me to empower thirty thousand men with something better?" I scoffed. "Sorry, but I don't feel like it." I deadpanned.

Doran's face slumped into his hands at those words, not even bothering to argue with me on the matter, while Oberyn simply grew a resigned expression on his own face.

"It was a good run." Sandor deadpanned behind me. "At least one of us is finally getting what they want."

"Hmm?" I turned towards the scarred man at the words. "Whatchu mean?"

The man gave me a quizzical look.

"Well, they can kill you can't they?" He answered easily. "That's what you want."

I just started chuckling at that.

"Sandor," I snorted. "You do realize that if he does in fact kill me- I'd literally murder the entire fucking divine kingdom right?"

He blinked in bemusement at that.

"No-" I snorted. "What the Warrior plans on doing is send me off straight to the next world- And until I've killed the stupid kingdom, I've no interest in that happening."

Doran rose his face out of his hands at that, as Oberyn leaned in curiously.

"You know, you're usually so fucking confusing- But that has to be the most Westerosi fucking thing I've heard you say so far." The man nodded with approval lacing his eyes.

I just chuckled at that and turned back toward the two princes.

"...You think you can win?" Oberyn questioned, a tad eager for some reason. "Truly?"

I snorted at that.

"If I couldn't win, he wouldn't have brought a hundred thousand men to fight me." I grinned. "He's literally scraped every ounce of his power for this trick."

"How?" Doran questioned, ignoring my words. "What must you do- What do you need to win?"

"Why aren't you worried?" Oberyn chose to throw in one more question.

"'Cos, I've fought something like this before- Only, instead of a hundred thousand from one kingdom, it was more billions from every star- From every system, from every freakin' galaxy." I paused for a moment, taking in the myriad of expressions on the two princes. "When you look up at the night sky- Every star you see, and every star beyond, pretend that all of them is hundreds of thousands of times bigger than this continent- All of them filled to the brim with warriors-" I started chuckling. "Now imagine every last one of them, pointing a giant spear towards this little planet."

Oberyn was the first to break the silence that followed with a gulp.

"I didn't just win." I let the manic grin grow on my face as the memory filled the forefront of my mind. "I destroyed them, to the last fucking hair strand."

"...What'd you do, blow up the stars?" Sandor deadpanned with a joke.

I turned towards and nodded in response.

"Yeah, basically."

He stopped finding it funny.

"You're not gonna blow up the world are you!?" Rhaenys decided to question-

On that account who the fuck invited a six-year-old to- Oh wait that was me.

"-I just got back here!" Rhaenys remarked, grabbing hold of her head. "I live here!"

I rolled my eyes at her.

"If your uncles keep doubting me, I just might." She immediately turned a glare towards them.

You know, I was really starting to like the little shit.

To their credit- Oberyn stopped doubting me as he started smiling a tad bit, while Doran just gave up.

Literally just let out a long sigh and said he'll follow my lead.

About fucking time.

"I mean sure, but you do realize the Warrior's only here for me, right? If he wins, he'll just leave?"

"And a hundred thousand reachmen will still be at my door," Doran remarked dryly.

Fair enough.

"I'll have you know if he does win, I really will blow up the planet." I joked.

They didn't take it as a joke- Well, Elia did.

The funny part was, one way or another I was more than likely going to somehow end up saving this stupid world.

And hopefully, it won't involve killing everyone in it.

I think I've committed enough genocides for several lifetimes.

Pun intended.

A loud sigh suddenly came out of the aforementioned woman as she formed fists out of her hands.

"...If he was capable of gaining an army this powerful..." She grit her teeth. "Why didn't the Warrior just end the Long Night himself!?" Elia almost screamed the last part out, sheer frustration lacing her voice.

An uncomfortable silence quickly filled the room at that- The two princes shared a very unnerving glance towards each other, hints of realization dawning on them as they remembered why their sister was a wreck.

Rhaenys slumped in her mother's arms, practically digging her form into her chest, while my ninja simply started to hum in thought.

Sandor was probably the only one that didn't really give a fuck as to how the world was going to inevitably end. He was probably just hoping to see it.

"A good question indeed, princess." The man ninja remarked absentmindedly. "Truth to be told... There are a few contracts we Faceless Men do not take- And those that lay far, far, beyond the Wall are one of them."

Elia's gaze swiveled towards the ninja in accusation.

"Why?" Her voice was practically pleading- Though it didn't have any effect on the man as he simply that he didn't know, without a care.

"That's easy," I chose to answer. "It's the game, you're all familiar with, on a divine scale." I paused for a beat. "If the Warriors of the living decide to take the field- The Necromancers of the dead decide to level it." I sighed. "And the living generally have more to lose."

"Necromancers?"

"The god of the White Walkers- He's a glorified necromancer. A being that raises and fights with corpses." A single beat passed. "The Drowned god too, in a way- He just likes his meat puppets a little more living." I turned towards Elia. "Why do you think Euron Greyjoy always survives the White Walkers? Hm?"

Shock quickly fell into the woman's face.

"He's on their side!?"

I shrugged at that. "Well, he's certainly not their enemy- And they, not his." I paused for a second. "So yeah, as much as the Warrior and what not might want to, he can't risk giving the other side any ideas- Better to play with rules than without any in a fragile world."

Despite not wanting to think about such a scenario- It was oddly welcoming that they accepted it.

I had a feeling they were more familiar with escalations in a 'game' than anything else.

"What about you?" Rhaenys chose to question with a frown. "Don't they play with you? If you start playing?"

I grinned at the girl.

"There is no leveling the field against death itself little girl."

I started chuckling.

"There is only acceptance of the inevitable."

...

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