Pentos—this Free City's clamor—turned to deathly silence beneath the dragon's roar.
On the terrace, Magister Illyrio Mopatis collapsed into his couch.
His corpulent body like melted butter, those shrewd small eyes showing only pure terror.
Viserys Targaryen stood as if struck by lightning, body rigid.
Half soul-tearing fear.
Half reason-burning ecstasy!
His lips moved, unable to make sound.
Just staring entranced at that extinct mythical beast in the sky.
Only Daenerys stood in the gale, letting wild sea winds whip her silver hair and gown.
Tears had long blurred her vision.
Yet that figure in her eyes grew ever clearer.
It's him.
Her prince, her king, her destined prince.
The prophecy fulfilled.
At Lynn's soft whistle, Winter circling above let out a low roar—like farewell.
Wings beat once. The massive body vanished into clouds toward the sea, quickly disappearing.
That soul-freezing dragon's terror dissipated with it.
On Pentos's streets, screams and wails of survivors finally erupted belatedly.
On the terrace—eerie silence.
"Now,"
Lynn turned, calmly lifting his wine cup from the table.
"I believe we have a foundation of trust."
Viserys jolted awake from his petrified state.
He stumbled to Lynn, hands gripping Lynn's arms desperately.
"A dragon... a three-headed dragon!"
His voice was excited, full of unreality.
"Real... truly a dragon!"
He raised his head, pale purple eyes burning with near-manic flames, staring at Lynn.
"Will it fight for me?"
"Will it burn those usurpers' heads to ash?"
Lynn's gaze swept over Viserys's hands gripping his arm. He didn't speak.
Viserys released as if burned, face showing embarrassment.
"One dragon won't win a war, King Viserys."
Lynn's voice was calm, yet instantly extinguished half of Viserys's newly kindled hope.
"You need an army."
"Army..."
Viserys's face fell, muttering.
"That damned horse lord... he deceived me... those savages..."
He remembered trying to trade his own sister to that barbarian's bed for Dothraki warriors.
What he got—only humiliation.
The Khal didn't even want Daenerys.
"Dothraki?"
Lynn's lips curled with disdain.
"Just wild children playing in mud on horseback."
This instantly hit Viserys's sore spot—and gave him sick satisfaction.
"I can give you a real army."
Lynn glanced at Daenerys, saying thus.
"Real army?"
Magister Illyrio finally recovered from extreme terror.
Wiping cold sweat from his forehead with silk handkerchief, gasping, he interjected:
"The Golden Company? Their price isn't cheap..."
"Golden Company?"
Lynn laughed.
"Mercenaries who'd betray their master for gold dragons?"
"No."
Lynn raised one finger.
"I'll give you an army of a hundred thousand."
"A HUNDRED THOUSAND?!"
Viserys and Illyrio cried out simultaneously.
This number could make any lord in Westeros lose sleep!
"Where? Who are they?"
Viserys's breathing grew incredibly rapid.
"They're free folk—the fiercest warriors beyond the Wall."
Lynn's tone was flat, like discussing something trivial.
"They don't fight for gold. They fight only for their King-Beyond-the-Wall."
"Wildlings?"
Viserys frowned, face showing disgust.
"A bunch of blood-drinking savages..."
"Yes, savages."
Lynn didn't deny it.
"Savages who charge on mammoth elephants."
"Savages whose ranks include giants over four meters tall who can smash your castle gates with fists."
Each sentence painted bloody, powerful images in Viserys's mind.
Images that made his blood boil!
"Now they have a new king."
Lynn looked at him, speaking word by word.
"Me. The new King-Beyond-the-Wall."
"And I'm willing to let them fight for you."
Viserys's brain exploded with a BOOM!
He could already see it—
Countless giants roaring, tearing open King's Landing's gates. Mountain-like mammoths crushing Lannister and Baratheon armies to pulp!
The Targaryen Iron Throne—within reach!
"Yes! YES! Exactly!"
Viserys's face flushed with sick color, arms waving madly.
"I need them! I need this monster army!"
"I'll rip those usurpers' guts from their bellies!"
"A hundred thousand mouths..."
Illyrio's merchant instincts made him rapidly calm. His fat face was full of calculation.
"Providing supplies... this expense..."
"That's exactly where you come in, Magister."
Lynn's gaze turned to him.
"Your fleet, your connections, and those mountains of gold dragons gathering dust."
"Think about it—what kind of investment is this?"
"Targaryen restoration, backed by a three-headed dragon and a hundred thousand troops."
Lynn's voice carried bewitching magic.
"This achievement would make you the Seven Kingdoms' king's most trusted friend."
"This return—even the Iron Bank of Braavos would be moved."
Illyrio's small eyes hidden behind fat instantly brightened.
Enormous risk.
But the return... the entire Westerosi continent!
"Illyrio! Give him!"
"Whatever he wants, give him!"
Viserys had completely lost his reason.
He grabbed Illyrio's silk robes, shaking frantically.
"Ships! Gold! Women!"
"Give him everything! I want my throne!!"
Lynn watched this ridiculous scene, heart utterly calm.
"Good."
He clapped, drawing everyone's attention.
"It seems we've reached consensus."
"My army, your wealth, the Targaryen banner."
He paused, savoring the pleasure of victory within grasp.
Then his gaze slowly fell on Daenerys.
That gaze carried possession.
Daenerys trembled involuntarily under that gaze, pale cheeks tinting faint pink.
"Of course."
Lynn's voice sounded again.
"Such a momentous alliance—to ensure our interests remain forever bound—we need a stronger bond."
"Yes, yes! A bond!"
Viserys, immersed in the ecstasy of becoming king, agreed without thinking.
Lynn smiled.
"I will marry your sister."
The instant those words fell, Viserys's face showed wild joy.
"That's it? That simple?"
"I agree!"
"I can let Daenerys marry you!"
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