Pentos, the bustling free trade city-state, fell into a deathly silence beneath the dragon's roar.
On the terrace, Magister Illyrio Mopatis slumped in his lounge chair.
His corpulent body was like melting butter, and his shrewd little eyes held nothing but pure terror.
Viserys Targaryen, on the other hand, was rigid as if struck by lightning.
One half was a fear that could tear his soul apart.
The other half was an ecstasy that could burn his sanity to ashes!
His lips moved, but no sound escaped him.
He merely gazed dazedly at the mythical beast, long thought extinct, circling in the sky.
Only Daenerys stood in the gale, letting the turbulent sea wind whip her silver hair and skirt.
Tears had long blurred her vision.
Yet, the figure in her eyes grew ever clearer.
It was him.
Her prince, her king, her fated prince.
The prophecy had come true.
With a soft whistle from Lynn, Winter, circling above the city, let out a low roar, as if in farewell.
It flapped its wings, and its massive body disappeared into the clouds, swiftly flying away towards the sea, soon vanishing from sight.
The terrifying dragon's might, enough to freeze the soul, also dissipated with it.
On the streets of Pentos, screams and cries of relief from those who had survived the ordeal finally began to rise.
On the terrace, however, an eerie silence had fallen.
"Now,"
Lynn turned around, calmly picking up the wine glass from the table.
"I think we have a basis for trust."
Viserys jolted, waking from his petrified state.
He stumbled towards Lynn, grabbing his arm tightly with both hands.
"A dragon... a three-headed dragon!"
His voice was excited, yet filled with a sense of unreality.
"It's real... it's really a dragon!"
He looked up, his pale purple eyes burning with an almost frenzied flame, staring fixedly at Lynn.
"Will it fight for me?"
"Will it burn the usurpers' heads to ashes?"
Lynn's gaze swept over Viserys's hands gripping his arm, but he said nothing.
Viserys released his grip as if burned, his hand recoiling as if from an electric shock, a hint of awkwardness on his face.
"One dragon cannot win a war, King Viserys."
Lynn's voice was calm, yet it instantly extinguished half of the hope that had just ignited in Viserys.
"You need an army."
"An army..."
Viserys's face fell, and he muttered to himself.
"That damned Khal, he deceived me... those savages..."
He recalled how he had even been willing to send his own sister to the savage's bed to secure the Dothraki army.
But in the end, all he received was humiliation.
The Khal didn't even care for Daenerys.
"The Dothraki?"
Lynn's lips curled in disdain.
"Just a bunch of wild children playing in the mud on horseback."
This statement instantly struck a nerve with Viserys, and also gave him a morbid sense of satisfaction.
"I can give you a real army."
Lynn said, glancing at Daenerys.
"A real army?"
Magister Illyrio, who had been standing nearby, finally recovered from his extreme terror.
He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead with a silk handkerchief, interjecting breathlessly.
"The Golden Company? Their price isn't cheap..."
"The Golden Company?"
Lynn smiled.
"A bunch of sellswords who would betray their master at any time for gold dragons?"
"No."
Lynn extended a finger.
"I will give you an army of a hundred thousand."
"A hundred thousand?!"
Viserys and Illyrio exclaimed in unison, losing their voices.
That number was enough to make any lord in Westeros lose sleep!
"Where? Who are they?"
Viserys's breathing became incredibly rapid.
"They are the Free Folk, the fiercest warriors north of the Wall."
Lynn's tone was as calm as if he were discussing a trivial matter.
"They do not fight for money; they fight only for their King-Beyond-the-Wall."
"Wildlings?"
Viserys frowned, a hint of disgust on his face.
"A bunch of barbarians who eat raw meat and drink blood..."
"They are barbarians."
Lynn did not deny it.
"They are barbarians who charge into battle on giant mammoths."
"They are barbarians whose ranks include giants over four meters tall, capable of smashing open your castle gates with their fists."
Every word from Lynn painted a bloody and powerful picture in Viserys's mind.
The image made his blood begin to boil!
"Now, they have a new King."
Lynn looked at him, speaking each word distinctly.
"I, the new King-Beyond-the-Wall."
"And I am willing to have them fight for you."
Viserys's mind exploded with a *boom*!
He seemed to already see it.
Innumerable giants roaring as they tore open the gates of King's Landing, mountain-like mammoths crushing the armies of Lannister and House Baratheon into meat paste!
The Iron Throne, belonging to Targaryen, was within reach!
"Yes! Yes! That's it!"
A morbid flush appeared on Viserys's face as he wildly waved his arms.
"I need them! I need this monster army!"
"I will rip the guts out of those usurpers' bellies!"
"A hundred thousand mouths..."
Illyrio's merchant instincts quickly brought him back to composure; his plump face was etched with calculation.
"Providing them with provisions... this expense..."
"That's where you come in, Governor."
Lynn's gaze turned to him.
"Your fleet, your connections, and your mountains of gold dragons that are almost molding."
"Think about it, what kind of investment is this?"
"The Targaryen restoration, backed by a three-headed dragon and a hundred thousand strong army."
Lynn's voice carried a seductive magic.
"This merit is enough to make you the most trusted friend of the King of the Seven Kingdoms."
"This return, even the Iron Bank of Braavos would be moved by it."
Illyrio's small eyes, hidden behind layers of fat, instantly lit up.
The risk was enormous.
But the reward... was the entire continent of Westeros!
"Illyrio! Give it to him!"
"Give him whatever he wants!"
Viserys had completely lost his mind.
He grabbed Illyrio's silk robe, shaking him frantically.
"Ships! Gold! Women!"
"Give him everything! I want my throne!!"
Lynn watched the comical scene before him, his heart unmoved.
"Very good."
He clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention.
"It seems we have reached a consensus."
"My army, your wealth, the Targaryen banner."
He paused, savoring the pleasure of impending victory.
Then, his gaze slowly fell upon Daenerys.
That gaze held a sense of possession.
Under that gaze, Daenerys's body trembled involuntarily, and a faint blush spread across her fair cheeks.
"Of course."
Lynn's voice rang out again.
"For such a significant alliance, to ensure our mutual interests are forever bound together, we need an even stronger bond."
"Yes, yes! A bond!"
Viserys, immersed in the ecstasy of soon becoming king, agreed without thinking.
Lynn smiled.
"I will marry your sister."
The moment the words fell, Viserys's face showed wild joy.
"Is it really that simple?"
"I agree!"
"I can let Daenerys marry you!"
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