King Robert Baratheon's funeral was grand beyond imagination.
But the magnificence of the ceremony had little to do with Robert himself.
What truly shook the people of King's Landing was the appearance of the dragon.
For the first time in over a century, a living dragon had flown above the skies of Westeros.
The sight of the golden creature soaring over King's Landing ignited shock, fear, and excitement in the hearts of every witness. Stories once confined to dusty books and ancient songs had suddenly become reality.
A dragon.
A real dragon.
Although the golden dragon was still young and small compared to the terrifying beasts of old Valyria, everyone understood that the dragon's existence itself carried far greater meaning than its current strength.
It represented the return of something ancient.
Something world-changing.
And more importantly—
It had appeared beside Karl Baratheon.
The newly crowned king.
Some of the sharper minds among the nobles and officials quickly realized the implications.
Would Westeros once again enter an era ruled by dragons?
Would the Baratheons succeed where the Targaryens had fallen?
And if dragons had truly returned to the world, then where would history lead next?
The river of time, which had split apart a century ago when the dragons died, now seemed to be converging once again.
Under the surface, invisible currents had already begun to stir.
After his clothes had been partially scorched during the dragon's hatching, Karl had changed into a dark blue noble outfit before returning to preside over Robert's funeral properly.
Earlier, he had already informed Eddard Stark and the others about the mastermind behind Robert's murder.
After that, he said nothing more.
The little golden dragon rested lazily upon Karl's shoulder, occasionally turning its head curiously as it observed the unfamiliar world around it.
From time to time, Karl fed it small pieces of food.
Bear meat.
Crocodile beast meat.
Lamb.
Even fragments of broken dragon eggshells that he had preserved from the volcanic regions within the game world.
During the long and boring funeral ceremony, Karl quietly experimented with the dragon's preferences.
To his surprise, the little dragon seemed to enjoy dragon eggshell fragments the most.
Unfortunately, the shells were too hard for it to chew properly.
The tiny dragon gnawed on them stubbornly like a puppy chewing bones, forcing Karl to break them into smaller pieces by hand.
Still, the dragon couldn't eat much.
Perhaps it was because it had only recently hatched.
So besides nibbling on the shells, it mostly chewed crocodile meat and bear meat to sharpen its teeth.
Oddly enough, it seemed to dislike lamb.
As the funeral procession finally returned toward the Red Keep, Eddard Stark rode beside Karl in silence for a long time before finally speaking.
"What's its name?" Eddard asked carefully.
Then, realizing how strange the question sounded, he corrected himself awkwardly.
"I mean… what will you name it?"
Karl rode forward quietly, the dragon perched comfortably on his shoulder.
For a moment, his expression seemed distant.
Then he answered simply.
"Robert."
Eddard froze slightly.
Karl continued casually.
"I found the dragon egg years ago while traveling through the Free Cities."
"I bought it from an adventurer."
That was all he said.
Eddard opened his mouth as though wanting to ask more, but ultimately remained silent.
Everyone understood.
The method Karl had used to hatch the dragon was undoubtedly his greatest secret.
No one present would dare question him further.
Varys, Pycelle, Ser Barristan Selmy, and the others exchanged subtle glances as they followed behind the young king toward the Red Keep.
The atmosphere was heavy.
Awkward.
Uncertain.
Robert Baratheon was dead.
A new king had ascended the throne.
And dragons had returned to the world.
Nothing about the current situation felt stable.
After dismounting in the courtyard, Karl handed the sleeping dragon carefully into one arm before turning toward the gathered officials.
"Summon the Small Council," he ordered calmly.
"I have matters to discuss."
The ministers nodded immediately.
Soon afterward, the important figures of the realm gathered within the Small Council chamber.
Everyone's eyes fell upon Karl.
The young king sat at the head of the table while the little golden dragon curled lazily in his lap, holding onto one of his fingers as though suckling for comfort.
Hidden from the others' view, Karl discreetly fed the dragon small drops of magical potion to quench its thirst.
The dragon had apparently become overheated from chewing eggshell fragments all day.
Karl looked around the room calmly before speaking.
"Lord Eddard," he said.
"I will soon return to the Westerlands."
"I need to prepare for war."
The entire room fell silent.
Eddard Stark frowned deeply.
"Your Majesty," he said carefully, "perhaps you should reconsider."
"The summons to Lords Stannis and Renly were only recently sent. After witnessing today's events…"
His eyes drifted briefly toward the sleeping dragon.
"…surely they will think carefully before acting rashly."
The meaning behind Eddard's words was obvious.
Karl had publicly revealed a dragon during Robert's funeral.
As long as Stannis and Renly were not complete fools, they would hesitate before rebelling.
But Karl simply shook his head.
"No."
"I dislike waiting for enemies to make the first move."
"And I have no intention of surrendering the initiative to my uncles."
His voice was calm but firm.
"However," he added, "if they sincerely admit their mistakes, I will still honor my promise."
"The past can remain in the past."
Everyone exchanged uneasy glances.
Karl's tone carried neither anger nor emotion.
Only cold rationality.
Then he continued explaining his reasoning.
"I still must return to the West."
"Unlike my uncles, I do not possess deep family foundations or endless resources."
"At the moment, I practically own nothing."
Several ministers nearly choked at those words.
Nothing?
The Lord of Casterly Rock.
Warden of the West.
King of the Seven Kingdoms.
The man who had revived dragons.
And he claimed he possessed nothing?
Still, nobody interrupted him.
Karl leaned back slightly.
"The Westerlands are unstable," he continued.
"I also lack trustworthy people to govern my lands properly."
"That problem must be solved sooner rather than later."
Eddard sighed quietly.
He understood Karl's reasoning.
The situation in the Westerlands was indeed dangerous and complicated.
Even if Karl had become king, he still needed to secure his own foundation first.
Reluctantly, Eddard nodded.
"I understand, Your Majesty."
Before anyone else could speak, Ser Barristan Selmy suddenly stood.
The old knight stepped forward before kneeling on one knee.
"Your Majesty," he said solemnly.
"Please allow the Kingsguard to accompany you."
Karl blinked.
Only now did he remember that the Kingsguard officially belonged to him.
After all, he truly was king now.
Still…
The title hardly felt real.
Besides, Karl had a rather strange relationship with the Kingsguard.
Before even becoming a knight himself, he had already killed two members of the Kingsguard.
Later, he had slain Jaime Lannister as well.
Even now, the sword hanging at Karl's waist had once belonged to Jaime—the same blade that had cut down the Mad King.
Thinking about all this made Karl feel oddly amused.
He absentmindedly scratched the golden dragon's round belly while thinking.
The tiny dragon slept upside down in his lap, mouth hanging open slightly as tiny wisps of smoke escaped from its nostrils.
After eating magical food and dragon eggshells, the creature's body temperature seemed abnormally high.
Karl finally looked toward Barristan.
"How many Kingsguard remain?" he asked.
Barristan hesitated awkwardly.
"Besides myself… there are Ser Arys Oakheart, Ser Balon Swann, and Ser Meryn Trant."
Karl stared silently for a moment.
Only four left.
That was genuinely pitiful.
"I'm beginning to worry that if you continue following me," Karl said dryly, "I might need to protect all of you instead."
"I'd rather not become the king under whom the Kingsguard suffered the highest casualty rate in history."
The joke struck like a dagger.
Barristan's old face turned red instantly.
Because Karl wasn't wrong.
During the transition from Robert's reign to Karl's, the Kingsguard had lost six members in barely over a year.
It was almost unprecedented.
Barristan wanted to argue.
But he genuinely couldn't.
After all, Karl was simply stating facts.
Still kneeling, Barristan lowered his head further.
"It is our honor to die protecting His Majesty," he declared firmly.
"This is our oath."
This time, he refused to fail another king.
He had failed Aerys.
He had failed Robert.
He would not fail Karl too.
Karl sighed helplessly.
The old knight was too stubborn.
Then an idea suddenly appeared in his mind.
"I remember my fiancée Sansa Stark is still in King's Landing," Karl said.
"Why not stay here and protect her instead?"
Barristan looked stunned.
Even Eddard blinked in surprise.
Karl quickly continued.
"Ser Barristan, do not misunderstand."
"It's precisely because I trust you most among the Kingsguard that I want you to remain."
That part was true.
Out of everyone in King's Landing, Barristan Selmy was one of the few people Karl genuinely trusted.
And honestly—
King's Landing needed capable people far more than Karl did.
Eddard immediately frowned.
"Your Majesty," he said sternly, "Sansa is not yet your queen."
"It would be improper."
Eddard Stark's sense of honor and propriety remained as rigid as ever.
Kingsguard existed to protect the king above all else.
Assigning one specifically to Sansa before marriage felt inappropriate to him.
But Karl shook his head calmly.
"Lord Eddard, Sansa is my fiancée."
"She will one day become queen."
"And she will bear my heirs."
"Protecting her is entirely reasonable."
Eddard found himself speechless.
The issue of royal heirs had already plunged the kingdom into chaos once.
He couldn't deny Karl's logic.
After thinking for a moment, Eddard gritted his teeth.
"If Your Majesty insists on returning West…"
"Then perhaps you should take Sansa with you."
Karl nearly coughed.
His future father-in-law was practically handing over his daughter directly.
But Karl understood Eddard's true concern.
It was still about the Kingsguard.
King's Landing desperately needed trustworthy protectors.
Karl shook his head again.
"King's Landing still requires people."
"This city represents the future of the realm."
In truth, Karl had already decided Barristan must remain.
Without Barristan, Eddard would struggle terribly managing King's Landing alone.
As for Varys…
Karl still hadn't fully decided what to do about him.
The Spider remained useful.
Dangerous, certainly.
But useful.
Unlike Littlefinger or Pycelle, Varys possessed genuine talent.
And Karl believed intelligent people knew how to choose survival.
If necessary, he could always eliminate Varys later.
So for now, Karl intended to use him.
After making his decision, Karl looked toward Barristan once more.
"My mind is made up."
"You will remain in King's Landing."
"You are needed here more than beside me."
Barristan lowered his head slowly.
"…As you command, Your Majesty."
Karl then turned toward Eddard.
"And regarding Sansa…"
"Once this conflict ends, I will return to formally ascend the Iron Throne."
"If she is willing…"
"I will give her a grand wedding."
For a brief moment, Eddard's expression softened.
The words reminded him painfully of Robert speaking excitedly about attending Karl's future wedding.
But Robert was gone now.
Only silence remained.
Finally, Eddard sighed deeply.
"As you command, Your Majesty."
Then his expression hardened again.
"What about Robert's murderer?"
At those words, the atmosphere in the room instantly turned cold.
Karl's eyes narrowed slightly.
A dangerous chill appeared in them.
"I will make him pay," he said quietly.
And everyone present understood immediately—
War was coming.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)