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Lynn completely ignored the paralyzed Gold Cloak trembling on the floor. He simply glanced at the bundle of herbs on the table and gave a curt nod.
Even minor weakness was still weakness; he needed to treat it.
After signaling the guard to go process the herbs, Lynn turned his attention back to Melisandre. She had just managed to scrape herself off the floor and was currently staring at him in absolute, shell-shocked bewilderment.
"You. Come to my chambers."
"We need to have a highly private conversation."
Melisandre's entire body violently shuddered, and she instinctively dropped her head.
She was absolutely, utterly terrified of this deeply unpredictable, psychotic man who had just casually driven a sword through her heart the second they met.
What kind of sane human being opens a conversation by stabbing someone squarely in the chest?!
"Yes, My Lord."
Melisandre didn't dare show a single fraction of resistance, trailing behind Lynn like the absolute most submissive, broken slave.
Lynn led her directly into a secluded, heavily secured bedroom deep within the Tower of the Hand.
The heavy oak door clicked shut.
Back in the cavernous main hall, only Cersei, Lyanna, Sansa, and the paralyzed Gold Cloak remained, staring at each other in dead silence.
The air was terrifyingly still.
"Is he..."
"Is he actually a... a god?"
Lyanna's voice violently cracked with unshed tears, her entire body shaking like a leaf.
Everything that had transpired today had completely, permanently annihilated the worldview she had built over her entire life.
Resurrecting the dead!
An apocalyptic, absolute divine miracle that strictly existed in ancient, forgotten legends had just been casually executed right in front of her eyes!
"If he isn't a god, then what the hell else could he possibly be?"
Cersei's face was completely drained of color.
But her eyes were violently burning with an unprecedented, psychotic level of fanaticism.
She had to heavily lean against a nearby stone pillar just to keep her legs from giving out again.
"The dragon is nothing but his pet."
"Absolute royal authority is nothing but his playground."
"And us? We pathetic mortals... in his eyes, we probably aren't even worth as much as the dirt on his boots."
Her lethally cold words sent a violent shudder straight down Sansa's spine.
How unbelievably, absolutely fortunate were they?!
To actually have the apocalyptic honor of serving a true, living god walking amongst men!
The exact same psychotic thought simultaneously detonated in the minds of all three women.
---
Inside the bedroom.
Melisandre stood dead center in the room, her head bowed so low her chin touched her chest, absolutely terrified to even draw a heavy breath.
She could physically feel Lynn's heavy gaze violently dissecting her.
It felt like those eyes were effortlessly phasing straight through her flesh, brutally laying bare every single deeply buried secret within her soul.
But in reality, Lynn was just staring dead at his own system interface.
He had mentally pulled up the screen moments ago.
A brand-new line of skill information aggressively glowed in his vision.
[Skill: Eternal Youth (Novice) 1/100]
[Effect: Can establish a physical link with one target to actively share the host's youth. Both host and target will become completely immune to aging.]
[Upgrading to 'Proficient' unlocks one additional linking slot.]
Oh?
Sharing youth?
Lynn's eyebrows slowly arched upwards.
So this wasn't just a selfish immortality cheat; he could actively drag someone else along for the ride?
That was actually incredible!
This was literally a god-tier couple's buff from a video game!
The only massive downside was the absolutely brutal experience cost to level it up.
Going from Novice to Proficient demanded a staggering 100 experience points, whereas all his other skills only required a measly 10. He didn't even want to calculate the apocalyptic amount of experience required to max this thing out later.
Still, if he could actually manage to grind it to max level, didn't that mean every single one of his women could permanently share his immortality and flawless youth?
Hiss!
Just visualizing that absolute paradise made Lynn's blood run a little hot.
He mentally swiped the interface away, dropping his gaze heavily back onto Melisandre.
He had just aggressively, cleanly run this woman completely through, and then casually dragged her soul back from the void.
The ruby—the literal, physical anchor to her eternal life—had been entirely broken down and absorbed by his system.
Which meant that while Melisandre was technically breathing again, she had permanently lost her immortality cheat code.
She was now actively bound to the mortal coil; she would slowly wither, age, and eventually die like a completely normal human.
Lynn slowly rubbed his chin.
He had, after all, violently stolen her most prized possession and actively murdered her.
Even though he immediately resurrected her, it still felt like a slightly dirty play.
Not tossing her the very first "Eternal Youth" link felt a bit too ruthless, even for him.
Consider it a severance package for her absolute trauma.
"Look up."
Lynn's voice cut through the silence.
Melisandre's body jerked, and she slowly, mechanically raised her head.
Her flawless face was still heavily saturated with the blank confusion and deep, primal terror of someone who had just violently experienced their own death.
"My Lord... you..."
"I resurrected you," Lynn stated, brutally cutting her off.
"But the absolute price for pulling you back was the permanent loss of your immortality."
"From this exact second forward, you will age and die exactly like any other pathetic mortal."
Melisandre completely froze.
Her hand instinctively flew up to her throat, desperately grasping at the empty air where her ruby used to rest.
She slowly lowered her gaze, staring blankly at her own hands.
The skin was still flawless, pale, and elegant.
But she could actively, physically feel it now—a faint, insidious draining sensation. The undeniable, terminal flow of mortal time slowly beginning to siphon her life force.
She had actually, genuinely been downgraded to a normal human.
Yet, highly bizarrely, she didn't feel a single ounce of crushing loss.
Instead, a massive, overwhelming wave of profound... absolute relief washed over her?
Right at that exact second, Lynn spoke again.
"However, as an absolute reward for swearing your ultimate fealty to me."
"I can grant you your immortality back."
Lynn raised his hand, pointing a single index finger directly at the center of Melisandre's forehead.
He was fully prepared to activate the link.
But to his absolute shock.
Melisandre violently recoiled, stumbling a heavy step backward and aggressively shaking her head, her face completely warped by sheer, panic-stricken refusal.
"No!"
"I don't want it!"
Lynn's finger stopped dead in mid-air.
He stared at the woman, genuinely thrown off balance for the first time.
She didn't want it?
She was actively rejecting absolute, permanent youth and immortality?
Did I actually cause severe brain damage when I stabbed her?
"Why exactly?"
"Immortality is not a divine gift."
Melisandre's voice was suffocatingly heavy, dripping with an unfathomable, bone-deep exhaustion and pure agony.
"It is a curse!"
"It is the absolute most venomous, sadistic curse in this entire fucking world!"
She looked up at him, her dead crimson eyes suddenly shattering, revealing a profound, agonizing vulnerability.
"Do you have any idea exactly how long I have been alive?"
"I can't even remember the exact number of centuries anymore. The only thing I remember is that I was just a little girl before the absolute Doom permanently annihilated Valyria."
"I stood there and actively watched the supreme Dragonlords be violently reduced to ash by the apocalypse. I watched the Targaryens mount their dragons and violently conquer Westeros. And I watched the Targaryens slowly, pathetically rot and fall."
"Every single friend I ever made, every single person I ever loved... I watched every single one of them wither and die, leaving me entirely, completely alone in the void."
Her voice violently cracked, overflowing with apocalyptic pain.
"That sheer, suffocating isolation... that absolute, paralyzing despair of watching the world violently turn to dust while you are permanently trapped in a frozen cage... can you possibly comprehend that?!"
"I'm tired."
"I am so incredibly, absolutely tired."
Melisandre slowly, heavily dropped back to her knees.
Tears were now violently streaming down her flawless face.
"I never followed the Lord of Light for immortality."
"I only followed him because I desperately needed an absolute answer. I needed a reason to justify my endless, meaningless existence."
"I genuinely believed Stannis was the promised savior. I believed he possessed the absolute power to lead us through the Long Night. But he is nothing more than a pathetic, hollow man entirely consumed by his lust for a useless iron chair."
"But now... I have found you."
"You are the absolute, one true God!"
"To serve as your weapon, to actively help you permanently incinerate the approaching apocalypse, and then to finally, peacefully die like a normal mortal... that is my one and only absolute desire."
"I am begging you. Do not use immortality to torture me anymore."
Lynn stared down at the woman completely broken at his feet, violently sobbing like a devastated child.
He fell dead silent.
She genuinely, absolutely wanted to die...
He had always operated under the absolute assumption that immortality was the ultimate, psychotic goal every human being desperately chased.
But he had completely failed to calculate the apocalyptic psychological toll on a mind that had been trapped in the exact same body for over a thousand years, forced to watch the entire world repeatedly burn and rot around her.
Death, to her, wasn't a punishment; it was the absolute ultimate release.
Her entire, massive existence had been strictly dedicated to serving others.
First, an invisible, potentially fraudulent Lord of Light. Then, a completely fabricated, highly unhinged prophecy.
She had never, not for a single fraction of a second, actually lived for herself.
The realization clicked perfectly into place.
Lynn smiled.
He slowly closed the distance, crouched down, and gently, firmly cupped her tear-streaked face in his hands, tilting her head up to meet his gaze.
"You are absolutely wrong."
Melisandre stared at him, her eyes completely blown out with confused desperation.
"Immortality is not a curse."
His voice resonated with an absolute, highly intoxicating, entirely irresistible magnetism.
"You spent the last thousand years acting as a mindless slave for the Lord of Light."
"Don't you want to spend the next thousand years actually living for yourself?"
Melisandre's brain completely short-circuited.
Live... live for herself? For another thousand years?
That single, radical concept violently struck her like a literal lightning bolt, completely, permanently shattering the psychological cage she had been locked in for millennia.
She stared deep into Lynn's bottomless eyes—eyes that felt like they held absolute, omniscient control over reality itself—and looked at the warm, impossibly confident smile on his face.
And for the first time in a thousand years, she actually felt her dead, permanently frozen heart violently, aggressively kickstart back to life.
Live... for herself?