Game of Thrones: Knight’s Honor
Chapter 377: The Implantation Experiment

“The map is really on this man named Branston?” Lynd frowned slightly after hearing Balin’s report. “And he has no idea what it actually is?”

“Correct,” Balin nodded. “He’s been keeping it as a collectible, thinking it’s just some old relic. He has no idea it’s actually the map of Sothoryos drawn by Jaenara Balerion herself.”

“Buy it from him,” Lynd instructed. “If money will settle it, there’s no need for other means.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Balin replied.

Lynd turned to Garlan. “What about you? Something on your mind?”

“Your Grace, this is the updated list of candidates for the Small Council.” As Garlan spoke, he handed Lynd a document.

Lynd looked through the list carefully. “Keep Pycelle on as Grand Maester. He’s got his quirks, but he’s still competent. Littlefinger—Petyr Baelish—remains Master of Coin. As for the rest, proceed as you’ve outlined.” He paused and added, “And how’s our new Speaker doing?”

Garlan hesitated, concern in his voice. “Are you certain it’s wise to let Margaery take on such a significant role?”

“It’s fine,” Lynd said with a slight smile. “She has the Queen of Thorns guiding her—she’ll do just fine.” His tone shifted as he added firmly, “And tell everyone to stop bringing up marriage in front of her. If she doesn’t want it, don’t push her.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Garlan said with a respectful nod.

At that moment, Qyburn entered and bowed. “Your Grace, everything is ready.”

“All right,” Lynd stood and motioned to Garlan. “Come, let’s go check on the future Hand of the King and the Lord of Casterly Rock.”

...

They made their way through several corridors of the Red Keep until they reached what had once been the dragonbone storage room. The bones had since been relocated, and the space had been repurposed into a laboratory reminiscent of the Black Cells—cold, clinical, and designed for experimentation.

Special candles filled the room with a powerful white light, bright enough to leave no corner in shadow.

Inside were more than a dozen individuals—Maesters skilled in medicine and spellcasters adept in magic—gathered around two beds.

On those beds lay Oberyn Martell, the Red Viper, paralyzed from head to toe, and Jaime Lannister, missing a hand. It was almost laughable to see two former enemies now lying side by side in treatment—especially considering that Oberyn was completely naked and lying on his side. From where Jaime was positioned, just turning his head slightly gave him an unfortunate view, which made him flush with embarrassment.

“Your Grace!” Everyone stood and bowed when Lynd entered.

“Lynd Tarran, you did this on purpose, didn’t you?” Oberyn grumbled, glaring at him in both irritation and discomfort.

“No,” Lynd replied, shaking his head. Before Jaime could get a word in, he gave the command, “Begin.”

At his word, an alchemist stepped forward with two vials of potion, which he poured into the mouths of Oberyn and Jaime. Both men lost consciousness almost immediately.

Then the aeromancer began chanting, using a magical medium to cast a purification spell. A wave of invisible energy swept through the room, scrubbing the air clean of dust and impurities, creating a near-sterile environment.

Next, a Maester stepped forward with a scalpel and began the procedures. Oberyn’s surgery involved opening the damaged section of his neck and removing crushed vertebrae and severed nerves. Jaime’s procedure was even more drastic—they amputated the remains of his arm completely.

Once the damaged tissue was removed, two chunks of translucent, flesh-like material were retrieved from enchanted metal boxes etched with dragon runes and cooled by magic. The glowing slabs were placed—one on Jaime’s severed arm, the other on Oberyn’s neck.

Immediately, the grafts began to dissolve into the wounds like melting wax, forming a thick, sticky paste that clung to the injuries.

The alchemists then brought forward slabs of fresh meat, placing them against the paste-like grafts. The substance devoured the meat with astonishing speed, like a ravenous beast.

With every piece consumed, the paste on Oberyn’s neck secreted dark red mucus, while Jaime’s stump began to regenerate—bone, muscle, sinew, skin—growing inch by inch into a new arm.

Strange markings began to appear around the wounds, arcane and organic, spreading like living tattoos across their bodies. As the feeding continued, the patterns grew, curling across their skin until both men were entirely covered.

By the time the process was complete, Oberyn’s neck was whole again—and Jaime had grown a brand new arm.

“How are they doing?” Lynd asked.

The Maester leading the treatment didn’t answer immediately. He pulled out a set of instruments and carefully examined both patients. After exchanging a few words with the assisting spellcaster, he finally nodded and said, “Very successful, Your Grace. Flawless results.”

“Any potential side effects?” Lynd didn’t let the word “perfect” blind him to other concerns.

The Maester glanced toward the spellcaster. An alchemist stepped forward and explained, “Based on prior experiments, recipients tend to become highly aggressive. There’s also a chance they may experience deep-sea hallucinations. We suspect this is due to the transplant culture medium, which is derived from kraken fluids.”

“Is there a way to counter that?” Lynd asked.

Someone responded, “The aggression stems from the black magic used during organ cultivation. Unless the implants are removed, the aggression cannot be eliminated. However, the hallucinations can be suppressed with medication.”

Lynd raised a brow. “Suppressants? I thought the Black Pit hadn't yet developed any that worked against hallucinations.”

“They’re not needed,” said the Maester who specialized in medicine. “Any competent herbalist can prepare this. In Maester Brown’s Herbs and Witchcraft, there’s a recipe that counters witch-induced hallucinations. The formula is simple—standard herbalists can brew it without trouble.”

At that point, Garlan spoke up. “I’ve read Herbs and Witchcraft as well. If I recall, that potion isn’t meant for long-term use. Over time, it strips away emotion, turns the user cold—like stone.”

“You’re right,” the Maester agreed, nodding. “But you may have forgotten—we have magic. With the right spells, the side effects can be stripped from the brew.”

Lynd nodded thoughtfully, then gave the order. “Wake them. Let’s see the final results.”

At his command, the alchemist stepped forward, uncorked a small vial, and waved it under the noses of both men. Then he and the others stepped back to clear the area.

A minute later, both the Red Viper and the Kingslayer stirred and woke almost simultaneously. They reacted instantly, lashing out like startled beasts. Had the alchemists still been beside the beds, they’d have been struck—clearly not the first time such a reaction had occurred in these trials.

After a brief moment of instinct, both men regained clarity. Their expressions quickly shifted to awe and excitement as they began to examine themselves—one inspecting his full body, the other staring at his newly regrown right hand.

“They came to so quickly,” a nearby spellcaster remarked. “Truly, they live up to their reputations as two of the greatest knights in the Seven Kingdoms.”

“How do you feel?” Lynd asked.

“Excellent. Absolutely excellent,” they replied in unison.

“Begin the tests,” Lynd ordered.

Everyone got to work, bringing out specialized equipment to assess their physical capabilities and determine how much the implants had enhanced their bodies.

The results showed substantial improvements. While neither had yet surpassed the natural limits of a human body, they had reached the very edge—and with further adaptation, surpassing those limits was only a matter of time.

Already, each of them had outperformed normal bounds in specific areas. The Red Viper, for instance, demonstrated reaction speed and agility beyond human capacity. He could, in theory, dodge or deflect arrows fired at close range from dozens of crossbows.

As for the Kingslayer, his improvements leaned toward strength and endurance. He could lift several hundred kilograms with ease, repeating the motion hundreds of times without notable fatigue—and this was just the beginning. As his body adjusted to the implant, his physical capabilities would continue to grow.

"It's incredible. I didn’t expect implants to produce such drastically different results depending on the person.” As they reviewed the data, everyone couldn’t help but express their amazement.

In past experiments, the final results—after full adaptation—had never reached even half the performance of what these two had achieved immediately post-surgery.

“I feel like I could charge into battle right now!” Red Viper exclaimed, thrilled by the rush of strength coursing through him.

“Why wait for the battlefield? We could start right here!” the Kingslayer added, his fighting spirit ignited.

“Calm down. Don’t let the implants stir up your aggression. And get them dressed—two grown men standing around naked is an eyesore,” Lynd said flatly. His words quickly doused their enthusiasm and left both men slightly embarrassed.

As they dressed, Garlan commented with a trace of envy, “I can’t believe these implants are this powerful. I’d love to—”

“Best not,” Lynd cut him off with a glance. “They only underwent implantation because there was no other choice. And the implants are still unstable—no one knows what the long-term effects might be. Your House Tyrell has the bloodline of Garth Greenhand. Now that magic is returning to the world, his power is reviving as well. Just look at your sister, Margaery. Instead of envying others, maybe it’s time you studied Garth Greenhand’s legacy.”

“How would I go about that?” Garlan asked.

“Have Lord Mace cut a branch from your heart tree,” Lynd replied. “Craft it into a talisman and wear it at all times. It might gradually awaken the Greenhand bloodline within you.”

Jaime suddenly interjected, “So any descendant of Garth Greenhand could do this to trigger their bloodline? If that’s true, House Tyrell might have a problem.”

Garlan’s expression darkened. He wasn’t irritated by Jaime’s comment, but he understood the weight of it. If the other noble families in the Reach—descendants of Garth Greenhand themselves—discovered the power of the heart tree and banded together to pressure House Tyrell for access, it could bring serious trouble.

...

At that moment, both Red Viper and the Kingslayer suddenly froze, standing motionless. Those nearby didn’t react—clearly, they’d seen this before.

A few moments later, both men recovered, their faces pale. They bent over and vomited violently—not bile or food, but seawater.

When they were done, they looked up in confusion and asked in unison, “What was that? What did I just see?”

They both froze again, staring at one another, puzzled by the fact they’d asked the same thing at the same time.

“You explain,” Lynd said, gesturing to an alchemist nearby.

“What you saw were deep sea visions,” the alchemist began. Realizing that wasn’t enough, he elaborated, “The implants were cultivated from your own flesh, using a highly specialized culture solution. The core ingredient came from a kraken—specifically, the one belonging to Captain Dagon. The process involved extensive black magic—blood magic, shadowbinding, and the work of dark sorcerers. That’s why you’ve become more aggressive, and why you’re seeing hallucinations drawn from the deep sea.”

“What did you see, exactly?” Garlan asked, intrigued.

“We…” Both men opened their mouths but faltered, unable to describe what they had seen—or even recall it clearly.

“Invisible, inaudible, unknowable,” a Maester chimed in. “You may have glimpsed a god slumbering in the deep sea—perhaps the Drowned God, or another deity entirely. Consider yourselves lucky. All you did was vomit seawater. Some previous test subjects grew masses of tentacles and mutated into things that were no longer human.”

The color drained from both men’s faces. They quickly asked if there was a way to prevent it from happening again.

Lynd assured them there was a potion that could suppress the hallucinations, and that he would have it prepared as soon as possible.

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