As Lynn let out a low shout, a surge of warm power erupted from his palm and instantly wrapped around Melisandre's still-warm corpse.
The next second, he felt a thread of his own blood being pulled away by an invisible force. It wasn't much, but the sensation of life force draining was sharp and unmistakable.
So this was the price of resurrection.
King's blood as fuel to reignite the fire of life. If he had it, it drew from him. If not, it would take from someone else. Simple. Brutal.
Lynn's brows drew together.
Resurrection magic wasn't something you could spam. It felt more like dark sorcery than a clean miracle. Why did it specifically demand king's blood? He felt like he was brushing against something important.
A faint wave of weakness rolled through him. It wouldn't slow him in a fight, but it was annoying as hell.
"Someone get in here," Lynn called toward the door.
"Go fetch me some blood-replenishing herbs. Now."
"Yes, my lord!"
The Gold Cloak on guard outside didn't hesitate. He spun and sprinted down the corridor.
Right then, a rush of frantic footsteps echoed from the other end of the hall.
"Lord Lynn!"
Cersei, Lyanna, and Sansa burst into the chamber, faces tight with worry. The noise from the Tower of the Hand had been loud enough to make them think something catastrophic had happened.
They skidded to a halt the moment they saw the scene.
On the floor lay the corpse of a woman in red robes. A gaping, bloody hole punched straight through her chest. Blood had already spread into a dark pool.
Lynn stood beside the body, expression unreadable.
None of the three women were strangers to corpses. Their minds filled in the blanks in seconds.
This red-robed stranger had clearly pissed Lynn off and paid for it on the spot.
Cersei felt a flicker of grim understanding. She'd seen plenty of arrogant fools meet exactly this kind of end.
Lyanna and Sansa edged closer behind Lynn, eyes wide with instinctive fear.
"Are you… are you all right?" Cersei asked carefully, voice low.
Lynn didn't answer.
His focus stayed locked on Melisandre's body.
A soft red glow, almost alive, had begun to envelop the corpse. The light wasn't harsh. It carried a strange, warm, peaceful feeling.
"What… what is that?" Lyanna gasped, hand flying to her mouth.
Cersei and Sansa stared, eyes widening.
Under that red glow, the horrific wound in Melisandre's chest was knitting itself back together right before their eyes. Flesh regenerating. Skin sealing shut. Blood vanishing as if it had never been spilled.
This wasn't medicine. This wasn't anything the Citadel's best maesters could ever do.
This was a miracle.
The three women's breathing stopped.
They watched, unblinking, as the red light brightened. Melisandre's death-pale skin slowly flushed with color again.
Then—
Her chest jerked violently.
She was breathing.
"Cough… cough, cough…"
With a harsh, rattling cough, Melisandre slowly pushed herself upright.
She looked around in dazed confusion, then glanced down at the fresh scar on her chest.
She remembered everything.
Lynn had taken the power from her ruby. Then he'd driven Longclaw straight through her heart.
She had died.
And now she was alive again.
Melisandre's head snapped up. Her crimson eyes locked onto Lynn standing over her.
Fear. Confusion. Shock. A storm of emotions crashed through her.
What the hell had he done to her?
Was he playing some kind of sick game?
Inside the great hall of the Tower of the Hand, Cersei, Lyanna, and Sansa stood frozen like statues.
A dead woman. A woman they had watched die—heart pierced, blood drained dry—had just sat up and started breathing again.
Was this real?
Kings. Power. Dragons. Magic. They could wrap their heads around those things.
But bringing the dead back to life?
That was the domain of gods.
Cersei's body began to shake uncontrollably.
Her mind flashed through every moment she'd known Lynn. The way he'd arrived in King's Landing like something out of legend. The dragon that could burn cities to ash. The way he saw straight through people. The way he controlled Joffrey's life and death with a word.
It all made perfect sense now.
He wasn't mortal.
He was a god walking among men.
Thud.
Cersei Lannister's knees gave out. She dropped straight to the stone floor.
Not from fear. Not from forced submission.
From pure, soul-deep reverence.
"My lord…"
Her voice trembled. Her whole body trembled. Even her soul felt like it was shaking.
She lowered her proud head until her forehead pressed against the cold floor.
Lyanna and Sansa snapped out of their shock. They looked at the tall, unyielding man standing in the center of the hall.
The admiration in their eyes had been replaced by something deeper. Something closer to worship.
Thud.
Thud.
Both girls dropped to their knees beside Cersei.
Lynn stared at the three women kneeling before him, shaking.
All he'd done was use one skill, and this was the reaction?
He cleared his throat, ready to break the heavy silence.
"Get up."
His voice was calm. Ordinary.
But to the four women in the room, it sounded like a divine command.
Cersei, Lyanna, and Sansa rose shakily to their feet, heads still bowed, none of them daring to meet his eyes.
Lynn looked down at Melisandre, still kneeling on the floor.
"In a little while, you're coming with me to my chambers. We need to talk. Alone."
He glanced at Cersei and the other two women.
Just then the Gold Cloak who'd gone for the herbs came rushing back in. He carried a bundle of medicinal plants. The second he stepped through the door and saw the scene, his hands shook so badly he nearly dropped everything.
He set the bundle on the nearest table and immediately dropped to his knees as well.
Lord Lynn… had brought the dead back to life.
He was a god.
Lynn ignored him. He picked up the herbs, already thinking about where he could deal with them quietly.
He could feel the other Gold Cloaks outside, the ones guarding the tower, staring in through the doors and windows with eyes full of raw reverence.
Whispers drifted in from the corridor.
"Did you see that? The red woman… she came back to life!"
"Seven hells… Lord Lynn… is he actually a god?"
"He has to be. Only a god could do something like that."
Lynn let out a quiet, helpless sigh.
Looked like from now on, he'd officially picked up another identity.
The living god of King's Landing.