Skyrim System In Westeros

"Your Highness, I've brought the people from Volantis. I wonder if this is a good time." A noblewoman, her gown embroidered with golden lions, approached Nymeria and leaned in to whisper in her ear.

Seated in the front row, Nymeria turned her head just in time to see Wright and a group of high-ranking members of the Dragon Cult stepping out from the main stage.

"The timing is perfect, Margot!" Nymeria replied, yet Margot remained bowed.

Margot Lannister wore an expression of contentment, though in truth, she was deeply frustrated. She despised her husband's incompetence—and her own as well!

Having held a position of power for years and been raised by her unpredictable father, Oberyn, Nymeria had grown bolder with each passing day. She never expected that one day she would be despised by the women around her. But she didn't care about such trivial matters. What mattered now was taking advantage of Wright's absence to quickly join the team melee tournament.

"Have the knights bring my armor—quickly! Quickly!"

Since Nymeria ascended as the Princess of Dorne, the Dornish had become more active across Westeros. Except for the cold and inhospitable North, Dornish nobles and merchants could now be found in every region.

Lannisport, a major trading hub, had an even higher concentration of Dornishmen. The moment a group of young Dornish knights saw Nymeria stepping down from the stage, they rushed to retrieve the armor hidden beneath the stands and helped her don it.

Before long, Nymeria stood clad in a full set of black Valyrian steel armor. Holding an ordinary spear, she led a group of Dornish knights onto the tournament grounds, ready to compete. She deliberately refrained from using her own Valyrian steel spear, considering it too sharp and unfair for the competition.

Five men and four women—ten fully armed Dornish warriors including Nymeria. Their exotic armor and robes immediately drew loud cheers from the crowd.

"Nymeria!"

Seeing the Princess of Dorne enter the melee, the noblewomen of the Westerlands abandoned their decorum, standing up and screaming wildly.

Even Queen Margaery was caught up in the excitement. She shrieked at the top of her lungs, completely disregarding the child growing in her belly. She jumped in place, waving her handkerchief so frantically that she knocked over the goblet in King Renly's hand.

"All the other women act like this, and now even the Queen adores her. What should I do?" Margot pondered as she watched Nymeria instantly become the center of attention.

"Lady Margot, sit here." Willen Lannister, having noticed the subtle exchange between her and Nymeria, offered her the seat the Dornish princess had just vacated.

"Thank you, Willen." Without refusing, Margot gave a small courtesy and took her seat, feigning nonchalance.

Margot was Tywin's cousin. Many years ago, she had followed her husband, Lord Peake, to Tyrosh. After the main Lannister bloodline in Casterly Rock had been wiped out, she, though a woman and far down the line of succession, became the highest-ranking member of the surviving family.

Life in Tyrosh had not been kind to her and her husband, Titus Peake. Years ago, the Lord of Peake had made the grave mistake of backing the wrong factions multiple times, offending the Baratheon crown and alienating other nobles. To survive, he was forced to sell their ancestral seat, Starpike, in the Reach and voluntarily move to Tyrosh under the pretense of engaging in trade—though in reality, he was a political hostage.

The couple remained childless. In Tyrosh, Lord Peake attempted to make a living through commerce, but his ventures only led to increasing losses. Not only did he squander his capital, but he also fell into heavy debt with the Tyroshi Bank.

Even after discovering that Kana Rogare was behind his misfortunes, there was nothing he could do. His investigations only confirmed that the forces backing Kana were too powerful to challenge.

Nowadays, people in Tyrosh used an unofficial term: Greater Tyrosh. Officially, Tyrosh was merely a city on an island, renowned for its wealth and magic, serving as the capital of the Stepstones. But in common parlance, "Greater Tyrosh" referred to a much larger domain, encompassing the city of Tyrosh, its holdings in the Disputed Lands, and even Myr and its territories. All of these belonged personally to Wright. Their combined area, apart from the North, was larger than any other ducal domain.

Through careful analysis, Margot and her husband concluded that the land of the Stepstones was held together by Wright, who had strategically divided its power into six factions for balance.

The first was the Reachmen, represented by Garlan Tyrell, Gunthor Hightower, and Hobber Redwyne. Their lands provided a strong economic base, and together they controlled the Tyroshi southern fleet.

The second was the Valyrian faction, led by Aurane Velaryon and her wife Asha, along with Theon and House Mandarly he had married into. This group controlled the northern fleet of Tyrosh and Myr, and had grown strong enough to overshadow the Reachmen.

The third was the inner circle, comprising Ashara, Dickon Tarly, AllardSeaworth, Andrew Estermont, Balon Swann, and Gendry Waters. This faction controlled key taxation, intelligence, and the bulk of the land forces, remaining steadfastly loyal to Wright.

The fourth was the Tyroshi magic faction, subtly controlled by Tyene. Given that outsiders found it difficult to interact with magic users, most common folk knew little about their true situation.

The fifth was the Dornish. Since Nymeria's rise to power, Wright had heavily invested in Dorne's economy and technology, turning it into a prosperous land known for desert fruits and spices. Nymeria's status among her people was now second only to the legendary princess she had been named after.

The sixth was the Lyseni and Volantene faction. These two city-states, with their vast resources and strength, had swiftly integrated into Westeros after forging an alliance with Wright. Kana Rogare was part of this group, controlling the Tyroshi Bank. Given that she had also given birth to Baemon, the Golden Dragon Knight, rumors now suggested she could directly command the fleets of Lys and Volantis herself.

Margot and her husband were unaware that behind the scenes, the Dragon Cult was tightly controlling everyone's minds in favor of House Baratheon.

Peake, long since bankrupt, was working as a temporary dock laborer at a tavern in the port. Many noblemen had sent proposals to Margot, promising to marry her immediately if she divorced her husband. Yet she rejected all suitors and remained by Peake's side.

She herself did not fully understand what belief she was holding onto—perhaps the pride of being a Lannister, unwilling to be known as a woman who abandoned her destitute husband.

However, with Kana targeting them, no matter what Peake tried, he always ended up failing. Even when he attempted to secretly flee Tyrosh by ship, he encountered pirates, only to be rescued by the navy and sent back to Tyrosh. Desperate and unable to survive much longer, Peake came up with a plan—to have Margot use her body to seduce Nymeria.

Kana was Wright's acknowledged mistress and had borne him a son, making her untouchable. Nymeria, however, was Wright's legal wife and the ruling Princess of Dorne. If Margot could win her favor, even if they could not oppose Kana directly, at least their lives could return to normal.

Most of the women in Nymeria's close circle were married and had moved out of the castle. She had never turned away a beautiful woman who approached her with affection, and even if they had ulterior motives, she would still bed them first and deal with the consequences later.

Margot was a woman with a conventional orientation, but under her husband's urging, she had no choice but to submit to Nymeria, serving as her handmaid. Each time she lay with Nymeria, she imagined the strong, dark-haired woman as Wright.

"Oh!"

"Nymeria!"

Cheers erupted once again as the Dornish had defeated another team of knights, securing another stage victory.

"Can you grant me a wreath?" Accepting the crowd's cheers, Nymeria approached the stands, removed her helmet, shook out her long hair, and raised her lance toward Margot.

"It would be my honor, Princess!" Margot picked up a wreath from the tray, slipped it onto Nymeria's lance, and blew her a kiss.

"Come to my chambers tonight!" Nymeria said before running back to the tourney grounds to prepare for the next match.

Margot sat down, pressing her hand against her chest to calm her heart. At that moment, Queen Margaery left Renly's side and took a seat beside her. "Margot, I've heard about your husband. He has… issues. But a woman cannot go through life without bearing children."

"Your Grace, my husband and I have a strong relationship." After years without children, the law would have allowed Peake to initiate a divorce himself, and one of the Queen's unofficial duties was arranging noble marriages. This was the only defense Margot could offer.

"The mages have examined Peake. There is no future for you with him!" Margaery pressed on. "Do you want to return to the Reach? Perhaps even reclaim Starpike? Samwell Tarly, the Lord of Horn Hill, is still unmarried."

Margaery's gaze drifted downward, studying Margot's ample chest and full figure. "You are in your prime for childbirth, and you are stunningly beautiful. If you leave Peake, nobles desperate for heirs will line up to invite you to balls."

"I am happy in Tyrosh," Margot tactfully declined.

"You don't have to return to the Reach. Samwell has a younger brother, Dickon Tarly—he happens to be in Tyrosh." As the Tarlys were staunch allies of House Tyrell, Margaery had no intention of letting an outsider benefit.

Margot waved her hands frantically. "I know Dickon! But he is much younger than me. That won't work—absolutely not."

Margaery took Margot's hands in hers and spoke solemnly, "What does age matter? Look at Wright's son, Sauron. Quaithe might be older than the both of us combined, yet she raised Sauron herself—as both mother and wife. That kind of bond is even stronger."

As the Westerlands fully aligned with the Baratheons and slowly began to rise from decline, Margot, the highest-ranking Lannister of her generation, felt as though she had been drawn into a whirlpool. There was no way out, and she was no longer in control of her own fate. Her husband, Peake, was destined to be cast aside.

---

"May you have many sons!"

"Many children bring prosperity!"

"This child has such a big head—he must be smart!"

Every follower entering the Dragon Cult temple received a blessing from Wright. After finally finishing his greetings, he could at last retreat inside, find a chair, and sit down to rest.

"Wright, can you take me with you to Winterfell?"

From within the temple chambers, Kana Rogare emerged, wearing a white woolen dress—the only color available in her wardrobe. She handed Wright a cup of water.

Draining a large gulp, Wright took Kana's hand and pulled her to sit beside him. "That frozen wasteland has nothing but snow. You've seen snow before—why do you want to go to Winterfell?"

Kana raised her sleeve and wiped the water droplets left on Wright's lips. "The Tyroshi Bank's goal this year is to establish a branch in every major lord's domain. The only one left is Winterfell."

"That's such a small matter. Just give me the documents, and I'll have Eddard sign them for you." Wright had assumed she wanted to go on a trip, but it turned out she was expanding the bank's business.

"No, I personally handled the negotiations for every bank opening in a high lord territory, and I must do the same in Winterfell!"

They were seated in the last row of the temple hall. Kana's personality hadn't changed—before she even finished speaking, she had turned sideways and settled onto Wright's lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. Every time she made a request like this, Wright would end up agreeing.

"The North might be dangerous. You must stay within my sight at all times," Wright warned. He knew that while she appeared delicate, she was fiercely determined. She had personally overseen all the banking operations alongside her subordinates.

"I promise I'll be by your side at all times!" Kana declared, ignoring the people around them as she pressed her body tightly against Wright, rubbing her face against his neck.

Before he had accepted her advances, Wright had never fallen for these affectionate gestures. Now, he found them rather comforting.

Kana knew that, as a noble fallen from grace, she couldn't compare to Nymeria, nor did she possess Tyene's magic. Everything she had now was earned through her own efforts. Wright's children were growing up, and the more capable their mothers were, the greater support their sons would have in the future. The three women in Wright's life were all working silently for the sake of their children.

There were too many people present, and soon, there would be a sermon from the sect's high-ranking members. Wright gently pushed Kana away.

"When are you leaving for the North?"

"As soon as the tournament ends today. I'll rest for a night and set off tomorrow afternoon." According to the original plan, Wright would travel north alone. Nymeria would fly on Lilith's red dragon, Sauron's black dragon would carry Tyene, and Baemon's golden dragon would take Kana. The family would soon reunite in Tyrosh.

"Then I'll have someone buy some thick clothing. I'll get you a set too—both of us in white!" Kana beamed and planted a kiss on Wright's lips.

"Get up. The sermon is about to start."

Wright pulled Kana up and led her to the front row of the hall.

The sermon was the usual proclamation of the Dragon Cult's doctrines, sharing uplifting stories. The speaker could be a noble or a commoner, as long as they were eloquent. Today, the one taking the stage was a sturdy young man in his twenties named Ingo.

Ingo stood tall and straight, his voice firm and powerful, exuding an air of reliability.

"You have gathered here today to witness the end of the Faith of the Seven! The end of a sect that tolerated chaos!"

His passionate speech stirred the crowd, earning applause every few sentences.

"Even now, far from the headquarters of the Faith, in the Westerlands, they continue to deceive the people while secretly supporting abhorrent practices. Their gods have betrayed their followers!"

As he spoke, Ingo accompanied his words with gestures, clenching his fists when he needed to emphasize his point. He was so fervent that he could barely contain the spit flying from his mouth.

"This new Dragon Cult that you have joined stands upon the ruins of the old faith! We will bring about the end of the Faith of the Seven! Their precious beliefs will be shattered! Every last one of their remaining followers will bow before the Dragon Cult! Let this be the day we remember—the last day of the Faith of the Seven in the Westerlands!"

Ingo raised his hand and pointed toward the statues of the Seven Gods displayed in the hall.

"Roar!" The hall erupted with thunderous cries from the new converts. They stepped forward, touching the statues to symbolize returning their faith to the old gods before lining up to receive their dragon-headed pendants.

"Ingo's speech sounds like a declaration of war," Kana murmured, watching him with concern.

"He might have read something he shouldn't have," Wright mused. Something about Ingo's rhetoric felt oddly familiar.

Ingo was once a recruit in the city guard whose entire family had been slaughtered during the vampire outbreak in Tyrosh.

He had tried to join the Dragon Guard under Dickon's command, but his physique wasn't up to the standards and he was rejected. Disheartened, he attempted to inherit his father's carving workshop, but after years of wielding a sword, his hands were too unsteady for delicate engraving. He failed to gain admission to the Tyroshi Academy of Arts and, with nowhere else to turn, returned to the army.

Originally full of zeal, he found himself repeatedly beaten down. Back in the military, he was mocked by some of his peers, spiraling into a haze of despair. That was until the day his name appeared on a list of soldiers slated for dismissal.

Wright had seen Ingo's name on that list and knew he had to make him a symbol. If not, many in Tyrosh would lose faith in their own futures. Wright formally inducted him into the Dragon Cult, keeping him close and giving him a full year's access to the castle's private library.

The library held a variety of books—some copied from the damaged system Wright had access to, including magical texts, as well as volumes on geography and culture. There were also rare manuscripts collected from across the lands, painstakingly restored. Among them were stories Wright had written down himself, recollections of his past life disguised as novels.

In just two years, Ingo had not only regained his confidence but had become the Dragon Cult's most outstanding preacher.