Chapter 367

Amazing.

Everyone present froze for a moment, then simultaneously turned to look at someone else who, like Daenerys, had remained silent this whole time—the high-ranking red priest Moqorro, sent by the High Priest of the Temple of R'hllor in Volantis to "guide" the Dragon Queen and help her fulfill the prophecy.

This towering red-robed priest had been an incessant preacher back in Meereen, endlessly warning about the coming Long Night, the darkness descending upon the North of Westeros, and the ancient and unspeakable god that sought the lives of all living beings… an endless torrent of cryptic doomsaying that had made everyone’s ears grow calluses. Yet strangely, after Daenerys landed on Dragonstone, he had abandoned his former urgency and verbosity, becoming utterly detached—not only had he stopped urging the Queen to journey to the far North to fulfill her "duty as the prophesied one," but he also began sitting silently in every meeting, blending into the background. His dark complexion, coupled with his quiet demeanor, made him so inconspicuous that even the newly arrived Varys had nearly forgotten his existence.

But no one had truly forgotten what he had once said—not long ago, this giant black priest had prophesied that Daenerys' greatest and most powerful follower would arrive soon, uninvited, from the far North after she took Dragonstone, seeking an audience with the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms.

Moqorro had demonstrated far too many extraordinary abilities since joining Daenerys’ followers. She no longer viewed him as an ordinary zealot.

Could it be… that Petyr, Varys, and this Night’s Watch commander who had arrived as predicted—together—formed the legendary "Three Heads of the Dragon" foretold in prophecy?

A mixture of shock and expectation flickered across Daenerys’ face as she turned to look at Moqorro. The red priest met her gaze with an enigmatic smile, then spoke first:

"Your Grace, since he is here, why hesitate to let him in?"


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Aboard the ship, Aegor's vessel did not actually fly a gray sail—it was a black sail, signifying it as property of the Night’s Watch. However, due to the poor quality of dyes in this era, exposure to sun, rain, and repeated washing had faded the black fabric to a dull gray.

The journey from Eastwatch to Dragonstone spanned nearly a thousand miles. To ensure speed, Aegor had personally selected the fittest rowers upon arriving at Eastwatch. With good weather allowing for night sailing, favorable winds, and a relentless pace, they had bypassed Gulltown entirely and, by the fifth day, passed the Vale and entered the Crownlands’ waters.

About ten miles from Dragonstone, the Blackbird was intercepted by a large oared warship flying the red dragon banner. The ship’s crew came aboard to inspect them, questioned their intent, and then escorted the Night’s Watch vessel to Dragonstone’s military harbor.

The island was still the same "birdshit-covered rock" it had always been, but the surrounding waters had changed dramatically. As Aegor approached, he counted at least three large patrol warships cruising in the vicinity. Upon nearing the island, the once relatively empty Dragonstone Fleet harbor was now densely packed with warships, their masts standing like a forest, red dragon banners fluttering everywhere.

It was an ordinary enough scene, but as Aegor scanned the sea of red dragons, his keen eye spotted something strange—here and there among them, unmistakable banners bearing the Greyjoy kraken.

What the hell?

Both Asha and Theon Greyjoy were back in Crown’s Rest… does this mean Euron has already made contact with Daenerys?

Racking his brain for any recollection of how this played out in the original timeline, Aegor’s ship was finally led to shore. After a brief period of watchful waiting in a harbor outpost, his audience with the Queen was approved much faster than expected.

Escorted by several female royal guards clad in black and red armor—whose attire bore some resemblance to the Night’s Watch—Aegor and Melisandre climbed the winding mountain path to the very summit of the island, where Dragonstone Castle loomed. It was an exhausting warm-up exercise, but soon enough, they once again entered the cold and imposing stronghold.

The castle was noticeably more lively than the last time Aegor had been here. Led down the narrow and dimly lit corridors, they were brought into the cavernous and eerily empty audience chamber—and immediately walked into a scene straight out of legend.


---

The great doors swung open.

For Melisandre, who had lived in this castle for months before, the surroundings were intimately familiar. But for Aegor, it was his first time setting foot in this hall.

He had only just begun to take in the grandeur of the chamber when a sharp, high-pitched voice suddenly rang out.


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"Seated before you is the Queen of Meereen, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, known as the Mother of Dragons, the Unburnt, the Liberator, and Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen."

A small, dark-skinned girl stood at the edge of the high platform, chanting the introduction in a ritualistic tone.

"Visitor, state your name and purpose."


---

Even under such serious circumstances, Aegor couldn't help but feel a strange sense of déjà vu—a bizarre dissonance, as if he had somehow stepped into the pages of a book.

Thankfully, he didn’t stupidly turn to his companion for an awkward glance before blurting out his name in a dry, stilted tone, like a certain someone once had.

Instead, he calmly composed himself, and with steady confidence, delivered his introduction in a clear and unwavering voice:

"I am Aegor West, Supreme Commander of the Wall’s Guard, Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. It is an honor to meet Your Grace."

His words were neither overly humble nor arrogant, concise yet full of presence, spoken with firm conviction and authority. As he finished, Aegor stood tall and locked eyes with the silver-haired woman seated before him.


---

And in that instant—a chilling sensation raced up his spine, like a bolt of electricity.

A deep, primal unease crawled from the base of his back, slithering up through his entire body until it prickled across his scalp, sending shivers through every inch of his skin.


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Before his reincarnation, who was the character Aegor always skipped while reading the original books?

Answer: Daenerys Targaryen.


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Before she rose to power, she had been a pitiful girl, exiled with her brother, forced into marriage with a warlord, and robbed of every last shred of control over her own fate—sold, taken, used, betrayed, and left with nothing but suffering and loss. Aegor had no taste for tragedy, and her story had always felt too cruel and suffocating for him to stomach.

And after she rose to power? The tone had shifted to the opposite extreme—a relentless power fantasy, where every challenge somehow resolved itself, where obstacles fell conveniently into place, and where men lined up to kneel at her feet.

She had always felt out of place, too much like a typical protagonist in a cheap web novel, too disconnected from the raw, brutal realism of the rest of A Song of Ice and Fire.

On-screen, her portrayal had been even stranger—expressionless at times, unnervingly smug at others, her dialogue delivering questionable one-liners in an almost robotic manner.

And yet…

At this moment, Aegor realized something.

Casting never mattered.

Because—

No woman in his past world could have ever come close to capturing even a fraction of Daenerys Targaryen’s presence.