Chapter 169 - War of the Four Kings (XVI)
"Don't we pray for you! Don't we pray for you every night? Our souls and faith are yours! Then why don't you save us from this hell?" The thoughts of a soldier covered in blood on the battlefield.
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Of course, Sigismund and Kinvara knew that the God of the Seven Faces would intervene again when his blessed one was losing. This was a crucial battle for the future of the continent, this battle would determine whether the Red Faith would attack or defend itself.
In the King's words, this battle would determine the course of their next actions, and by the King's orders, they had to attack. The longer the war dragged on, the more danger would accumulate over time.
So, Kinvara had orders to shake the soldiers' faith in the God of the Seven Faces, let the world see for the first time the cruelty and indifference of the gods towards humans.
Holding the black dagger, Kinvara didn't hesitate to use his magic. The black dagger began to glow with a crimson radiance.
"My soldiers, receive my blessing." Aenar's voice resounded across the battlefield, a red light spreading like waves above the army of House Targaryen. Wherever this red light touched, wounds were healed, fatigue ceased to exist and the soldiers seemed to have infinite endurance.
What happens when believers catch a glimpse of a true miracle?
They become fanatics!
Unlike the Gods who had to accumulate faith in order to survive, and only used divine power when they really needed it. Aenar had no qualms, he wasn't a god and didn't need faith, so he could use his power without any fear.
In the eyes of the gods, spending divine energy to heal a mortal was totally pointless, humans were short-lived beings, while one died, two more could be born. So, no miracles had really happened in the six-thousand-year history of the Faith of the Seven.