Game Of Thrones: The God-Emperor of Planetos

"The end is the beginning." God Emperor of Planets, Aenar Targaryen.

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The Plague Apostle's body did not stand still, feeling the extremely hot temperature. He had already been burned alive twice, one of the times he even exploded. He knew that the blasphemer before him was more treacherous and cunning than many veteran thieves.

The Apostle's hands changed, beginning to grow uncontrollably while three other pairs of arms grew on his back. Each hand held gigantic axes of flesh and blood.

Seeing this, Aenar thought he was fighting an apostle of Tzeentch (God of Change and Sorcery) instead of an apostle of Nurgle (God of Disease). However, the diseases embedded in the axes showed that he was indeed a follower of Nurgle.

Aenar did not retreat from the Grafted one before him; he quickened his pace and attacked head-on. The Plague Apostle also attacked. Two of the six arms attacked at the same time. The axes violently tore through the air towards the blasphemer.

Aenar did not dodge and collided head-on with both axes of rotten and putrid flesh.

Clang!!!

Surprisingly, when the three weapons collided, a metallic sound echoed through the surroundings. Aenar remained still, but the same could not be said for the Apostle, who was forced to retreat dozens of steps.

Aenar's strength was not something a mere Nurgle apostle could withstand. In terms of brute force, he was proud to say he had the best physique in the universe, with simply extraordinary strength, defenses, and reflexes.

Suddenly, accelerating at extremely high speeds, Aenar appeared in front of the Apostle and brandished his sword.

"You have to put a little more force into your blows; I barely felt anything in the previous attack." He said before simply opening a huge wound, which went from the Apostle's shoulder to his lower body. Aenar could see that his attack had almost cut the Grafted one in half.

The disgusting smell of burnt flesh hung in the air as Aenar did not stop attacking, dismembering the Apostle's body piece by piece. With each swing of his sword, the monster's flesh was burned, preventing abnormal regeneration, leaving the Apostle in great danger.

Suddenly, Aenar dodged to the side and watched with amusement as an ice spear pierced the Plague Apostle's neck.

"Your friendship is impressive; you attack each other." Aenar said with a sarcastic tone as he looked at the Night King, who was already standing. Although the man's body was not in good condition.

The Night King did not respond and attacked Aenar, initiating hand-to-hand combat. Aenar did not retreat and also attacked with a smile. The ice spear in the Night King's hand swung, pierced, or defended Aenar's sword with mastery.

Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!

In just one minute, hundreds of blows were struck; the surrounding earth suffered from the fight between the two beings. But, before Aenar's strength, the Night King seemed even more miserable; the blue man simply could not withstand Aenar's blows, who seemed to have the strength to move entire mountains.

Each blow defended or dodged with the help of the spear was like feeling consecutive earthquakes passing through his body. Then, the Night King's situation became even more critical.

Blood and blue flesh splattered on the ground while the Night King seemed not to care and attacked Aenar without fear of death.

Suddenly, Aenar retreated and saw six gigantic axes hit where he originally stood. "Two versus one, and you still say I'm cunning and treacherous." He said with a casual tone as he watched the two enemies advance towards him.

Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!

Aenar defended the Night King's ice spear and dodged the Plague Apostle's axes, all while taking advantage of the enemy's openings to counterattack.

Defending another attack from the ice spear, Aenar took a step back, dodging an axe, then a step to the side, dodging the spear, and attacked, piercing the Apostle's chest with the tip of his sword.

"Your body movements are horrible; perhaps it's because you're injured." Aenar calmly observed the sharp ice spear almost hit his cheek and said, looking at the Night King and the Plague Apostle.

"You stupid fat man, learn to attack when the enemy is talking; villains always lose when they're explaining their evil plans." Aenar said with a tone of amusement as the furious winds caused by the six rotten flesh axes made his hair flutter strongly.

With Prescience, the fight seemed more like Aenar's personal garden; he walked with a relaxed smile while talking to the guests.

If before the Night King and the Apostle hated Aenar just because he was their enemy, now they truly hated the person whose name was Aenar Targaryen. It was a personal hatred, extremely full of rage.

Even with the Plague Apostle's corrupted mind, he felt that Aenar was an odiously sarcastic and annoying fellow. He really wanted to tear his mouth and then cut out his tongue.

Suddenly, the Plague Apostle noticed that Aenar had appeared on his shoulder. He knew he had been distracted for a moment, and the blasphemer took the chance! "Don't get distracted while fighting me; it could end very badly for you, fat worm." He said with a displeased tone.

"1,2..." Aenar counted before tearing off the apostle's head with a smile. Blood spurted like a fountain, spreading everywhere.

"You probably have a regeneration limit." Aenar said as he calmly dodged the Night King's ice spear. He looked at the Apostle's still-moving body with a smile.

"Do you know what happens when two atoms collide in a short time?"

"No? Let me be a good teacher and give you a basic physics lesson." Showing a smile, Aenar simply pierced his arms into the Plague Apostle's body.

The apostle did not understand Aenar's strange words, but he knew it certainly wasn't something kind. He tried to retreat and move away as much as possible, but it was already too late.

Under superb control of Warp energy, Aenar simply made countless atoms collide at high speeds.

Everything happened in an instant; the absurd amount swept through the Apostle's body in an instant. In the next second, the Apostle's entire body was transformed into a cloud of blood and fell to the ground. But it didn't stop there; the kinetic energy in the form of a wave quickly spread. It seemed that all the trees in the forest were forced to lean back.

"How much is one minus two?" Aenar asked the Night King with a smile. "As your teacher, I have to teach you that it's one."

The Night King looked at Aenar with a confused gaze. He wondered if the Cold God was an idiot for thinking he could kill someone like Aenar. Was this monster human!? In his eyes, Aenar was more like a god than a human.

However, the Night King did not know that the fight was so difficult because he did not have the help of the Cold God. With an infinite supply of divine energy, the Night King would not be so miserable.

But who made Aenar have a weapon capable of killing a god? So, the Cold God's help did not come. Especially with R'hllor chasing the Cold God, how could he risk getting hurt with an extremely powerful God chasing him?

"I really want to kill you." The Night King said, his voice hoarse, cold, and indifferent, like an emotionless robot.

"It seems we're really in sync; I also want to kill you." Aenar replied, using his sword as a cane. "But it was a good fight."

He didn't lie, especially the entire ambush and the Night King's fighting power. The blue man before him was not stupid; he just had very bad luck fighting him, a being who could see the future and manipulate energy from an entire dimension.

If Aenar couldn't win even with all these advantages, he might as well get a rope and kill himself.

Aenar raised his head and looked at the sky with a smile. "It seems Caraxes has finished his first fight."

With Aenar's words, a gigantic monster made of flesh fell heavily on a hill not far away. The enormous monster had its form undone and turned into a pile of flesh.

Aenar knew he had to clean that mountain so that nothing could be corrupted in the future.

Caraxes landed next to Aenar, shaking the entire surrounding terrain. His body showed all kinds of injuries, but apart from the blood, nothing really serious. A deep sleep could make the dragon recover without any problems.

Caressing the scales on the dragon's face, Aenar asked the Night King. "Do you want to die by my sword or by dragon fire?"

"Neither option." The Night King said with an icy tone. Perhaps because he had controlled death for so long, he feared death more. Which was somewhat ironic, given his profession.

"What a shame, I wanted to give you a proper funeral." Aenar looked calmly and held his sword normally. In an instant, he disappeared from where he stood.

The Night King also moved; he walked towards Aenar with a cold gaze, his strangely blue eyes looking like two bright stars in the night sky.

It was a single exchange of blows; both attacked at the same time, and the result appeared the next moment when the two reappeared.

Aenar turned and calmly looked at the blue man standing, who was looking at the sun with a somewhat complex gaze.

"I remember the sun; it was the last thing I saw before they turned me into a monster." He said, looking at the sun again. He seemed to go back thousands of years, reliving the day his heart was cruelly pierced by the Children of the Forest's dagger.

Turning to look at Aenar, the Night King silently looked at his opponent's face, as if he wanted to remember that face for all eternity.

"I'm free..." Those were his last words before his body split in two. The lower half of his body remained standing while the upper half fell backward, staining the ground with blue blood and organs.

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Note 1: Honestly, I was planning 20,000 words for this arc, but after re-reading what I wrote in this Great War of Salvation Arc, I realized it's not as important as the final fight.

I have to read more books by writing masters; I still need to improve my writing.

Note 2: My great-grandmother is turning 98; the old woman is really old!!! Jesus Christ, the woman is so grumpy it's hard to live with her. Of course, that's with her sons and daughters, who, by the way, are twelve. But as grandchildren and great-grandchildren, we were treated like kings and queens.

Are all old women like this, or is it just in my country?

Read the advanced chapters on my Patreon!

/GOTSW

Read my other books:

Game Of Thrones: The God-Emperor of Planetos (400,000 words written).

Percy Jackson: Godwyn the Golden.