Game of Thrones: King of Magic

Chapter 67

Solomon. Old Valyria.

I was on top of an extinct volcano, one of the Fourteen Fires. It was their eruption that had destroyed Valyria, burying all the inhabitants and dragons beneath flaming rocks, black clouds of smoke that managed to cover the sky, and waves of flesh-and-blood searing heat.

I slowly closed my eyes and stomped my foot gently and began releasing a thin stream of mana in all directions, trying to explore the land around me and look for any clues.

According to surviving sources, all fourteen of the volcanoes, although there were actually more, but smaller, volcanoes that had become active at the same time. The reasons for this could have been many and varied, and while magic was on the list, it was not at the top of the list.

Such an event could happen because of the movement of lithospheric plates, on which Valyria was located, and the eruption of volcanoes - a logical consequence due to the degassing of magma and explosion of hot gases. And if we take into account the existence of Valyria for five thousand years and without particularly powerful documented cataclysms, everything came together almost perfectly.

Except I felt like I was missing something. After all, Daenys the Dreamer had been present at the event and had predicted the disaster. And based on that fact, I had a theory.

It was based on the world and its desire to survive by using the extremely ancient creatures, the Valyrians, against the White Walkers. They were a rather arrogant nation in their own right, and to get them moving, something powerful like, say, the Doom of Valyria was needed. And, so that not everyone would die, the world gave Daenys a vision, which apparently not everyone heeded.

Not many survived, but it didn't matter, for the dragons also survived. These creatures possessed immense power and magic, even if a more weakened version of my world. The power of their flames had truly destructive power, and since fire and heat are the antithesis of ice and cold, everything fell into place.

The world wanted to use the flames of the dragons against the White Walkers, the ones that went against the natural order, except it didn't go the way it wanted.

Human nature won out, and the dragons died out, leaving only a few fossilized eggs in their place. There was no roar, no flapping of wings, and most importantly, no flame to resist the White Walkers.

And it was for this reason, I believe, that I appeared here, as a powerful figure formerly subject to Alaya, Humanity's Unconscious Will to Survive.

Solomon saved the world twice, if you don't count his service to Alaia as the Great Servant. The first time was when he did not interfere in humanity's affairs as the average person would have expected, allowing history to go as it needed to and hastening the breakdown of the bond between humanity and the gods. The second time was his sacrifice and use of the last Noble Phantasm against Goetia, Beast I.

'Last' he was called for a reason, otherwise crossing here would have been nearly impossible due to Root's lack of influence on this world. As-is, Root, the metaphysical black hole that holds the knowledge and events of every microsecond of every world under its influence, still had limits.

I opened my eyes and stopped releasing mana, then sighed tiredly and teleported back to Old Valyria, where our group had settled. And upon arriving, I found myself in front of a small mansion, similar in size to Kirana's home.

The palace seemed excessive and too empty for the three of us, and so a mansion almost on the outskirts of the city was chosen. It apparently belonged to a man of decent wealth, had been completely restored by me, and had a back with a small garden, now with blooming greenery and trees. In short, a perfect temporary residence given our goals. And of course, waiting for me patiently and obediently at the entrance of the mansion was Kinvara with a smile on her face.