Skyrim System In Westeros

"Qyburn! Can't you pick another one? That Chicken's corpse has been here for two weeks, and the stench is filling the entire house!" Malora's voice broke Wright's train of thought.

Qyburn was in the middle of performing a corpse reanimation spell on a small Chicken. The Chicken's body shuddered, stood still for barely two seconds, and collapsed again, the spell failing due to insufficient magic. For days, Qyburn repeated this process, waiting for his magic to recover before trying again, stubbornly refusing to switch to another corpse.

Malora Hightower, around the same age as Qyburn, oversaw the school's library, while Qyburn managed logistics. With her natural talent for illusion magic and love for books, Malora often chided Qyburn for his filthy habits. She had grown up in a noble household and was particular about cleanliness, while Qyburn's experiments left him perpetually unkempt.

Nearby, Tyene Sand practiced basic healing magic on a plucked chicken. Tying the chicken in place, she made small cuts with a knife and cast a healing spell. The wound healed slowly while the chicken squawked in distress, but its suffering wouldn't last long — it would end up in the stew by evening.

The magic academy regularly purchased live animals for training, with chickens being the most common. After serving their purpose, they were eaten. Wright, however, had never personally killed a chicken in all his sixteen years of life.

Tyene was also deeply interested in alchemy. Having learned poison-making from her father, Prince Oberyn Martell, she now combined that knowledge with Wright's more advanced alchemical teachings. Her progress in crafting poisons — both in variety and potency — was remarkable.

Meanwhile, Wright's wife, Nymeria Martell, was sparring with Ashara in the training yard. Nymeria wielded a Dornish spear imbued with a green glow, aiming relentless strikes at Ashara's vital points, occasionally throwing knives with precision.

Ashara, armed with a sword in each hand, dodged and parried the onslaught, managing to counterattack occasionally. It wasn't long before Ashara was covered in wounds, her body drenched in blood. At one point, she grabbed her spilling intestines with one hand while casting an ice spear with the other, impaling Nymeria's thigh.

With Wright observing from the sidelines, both women fought without restraint. As long as their heads weren't severed, he could heal them.

Nymeria, lacking any magical talent, focused solely on honing her martial skills. Her weapons were always coated in deadly poisons brewed by her sister, Tyene.

Ashara, on the other hand, had talent in alteration and destruction magic but lacked the vast reserves of a pure mage. Thus, she trained in both magic and swordsmanship, ensuring that House Dayne's legendary blade techniques wouldn't go to waste. Wright envisioned her developing into a formidable battlemage.

Renly was still on his way back to King's Landing. Like Wright, he had talents across all magical disciplines, though his strengths lay in restoration and alteration. However, talent levels varied, determining their ultimate potential.

Renly's future abilities in restoration and alteration could reach the pinnacle, while the other three schools of magic would cap at intermediate. To compensate for his limitations, Renly focused on refining techniques and exploring innovative applications of magic. As Wright's twin brother, he was considered one of the most gifted mages among "normal" humans in this world.

Thoros, talented in both destruction and restoration magic, had gone out to procure supplies. As the school's field operative and external logistics manager, such tasks fell to him.

With the school's faculty consisting of either elders or young trainees, neither Wright nor Renly would bother with menial chores. Of the remaining staff, the two women were preoccupied with their own duties, leaving Thoros to handle these responsibilities. Not that he minded — his former sellsword companions, eager to curry favor with a magic school member, often took care of most errands for him.

The academy now operated based on the magical framework Wright had brought over from his game system. Combined with personal exploration and elements from other traditions—such as Thoros' teachings from the R'hllor faith — it created a unique, cohesive system. While the foundational principles were consistent, every individual developed their own distinctive magical style.

Wright felt the vibration of the magical barrier — someone had entered the school using an authorized token.

The visitor was none other than "The Spider", Varys. Wright led him to the reception hall, the eunuch trailing silently behind. Varys, clad in opulent robes and perfumed with scented oils, moved without making a sound.

"Lord Wright, I must apologize deeply. One of my 'little birds' grew overly curious about the magic academy yesterday and stole my token in an attempt to gain entry," Varys began, his tone contrite. His "little birds", orphans he personally trained to gather intelligence, were well-known throughout the realm. One had indeed been apprehended while trying to sneak into the school.

Varys held out his hand, revealing a small Valyrian steel cube — a token Wright had deliberately designed in the form of a die. It wasn't for security purposes but simply because crafting a cube was the most straightforward option, and inscribing numerical dots amused him.

"Did you think having a token would grant you unrestricted access to the school?" Wright asked, his gaze sharp. "Do you still recall the terms of our agreement?"

"Of course," Varys replied, sweat forming on his powdered brow and smudging the carefully applied makeup. "We agreed not to spy on each other. Beyond providing intelligence to the King and the Small Council, any private exchange of information between us is strictly quid pro quo."

Varys' mind flashed back to a Small Council meeting years ago when Wright had used a fear spell on him. The spell dredged up his most deeply buried secrets, leaving a lasting impression. Subsequent investigations into Wright only revealed more of his unfathomable power. Meeting Wright alone always felt like flirting with death, yet Varys knew how to navigate such situations—submission to strength often ensured survival.

"Spare me your pretense and hollow performance," Wright interrupted coldly. "We're both intelligent men, but let me clarify something for you. Our agreement exists not because I fear your abilities but because they serve the realm, and I have no interest in wasting energy on you.

"You may think you know something of me, but you'll never see the whole picture. Meanwhile, I know everything about you."

As Wright finished speaking, his eyes glimmered with a faint purple light. From the corners of the reception hall, a cat and a rat emerged, climbing onto the table. Their eyes, glowing with the same eerie purple hue, fixed intently on Varys.

"They can go wherever the little birds can go, and they can also go wherever the little birds can't go. I know the secret passages of the Red Keep better than you do."

It was the first time Varys had witnessed such a display. He had encountered Warlock in Essos before, but compared to Wright, they were nothing more than charlatans.

"I understand. From now on, as long as I live, no little bird of mine will ever disturb the lives of mages again."

"And what do you think of Petyr Baelish, also known as Littlefinger?" Wright asked. "I hear he's doing quite well as the overseer of the sewer systems in King's Landing. Good at smoothing things over, both above and below?"

"This was actually my arrangement, though Littlefinger does have his talents. Through a mix of charm and bribery, he managed to climb from a lowly sewer worker to the city's sewer master."

Varys immediately grasped the implication. "My little birds need information, and Lord Baelish, as overseer of the sewers, manages the city's underground. Our relationship is one of professional cooperation."

"Good, as long as it's professional cooperation. As fellow servants of the realm, we should work together. I won't see you out, but do your job well as the Master of Whisperers. And remember, the world of mages is one you'd best avoid meddling in. At least I'm reasonable. If you run into others, you might lose your life."

Taking the hint, Varys bowed and turned to leave. But before he could get far, he stopped and came back. "Lord Wright, on your trip to Essos, could you help me locate a certain Warlock? My little birds in Essos could provide assistance in return."

"Why not? Tell me more. You started your career in Essos, and I'll undoubtedly need your intelligence on this journey." Wright agreed immediately.

Varys was revealing one of his secrets to Wright as part of the exchange, a temporary display of submission. His network of little birds spanned both Westeros and Essos, and his skill at gathering information was unmatched. However, Varys was a master manipulator, always leaving himself multiple escape routes.

The problem was that relying solely on the knowledge from his past life had its limits. Wright had already altered much of history, and the future was becoming increasingly unpredictable. There was a risk of acting on faulty intelligence, killing the wrong enemies, and being played by the real ones.

Until a suitable replacement for Varys emerged, he needed to keep the spymaster around. His magical power was too precious to waste. However, Varys needed to be kept in check and incentivized with fair exchanges. Otherwise, he'd sell even the color of your undergarments to others just for a laugh.

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