"Store up grain; in the future, it will surely be as precious as gold!" Rhaegar instructed Oberyn as he left Ghoyan Drohe.
Oberyn was a man of Westeros and knew just how harsh the cold winds of winter could be.
Surviving the winter was the most pressing matter at the moment.
With enough grain and soldiers, Rhaegar still did not know how long this winter would last.
It was originally supposed to be three years, but if the Night King were to awaken, it would likely be much longer than that.
Rhaegar rode his dragon and flew to Pentos to meet Magister Illyrio Mopatis in that magnificent mansion.
The two sat in a room overlooking a marble pool, with the dragon resting in the courtyard.
Illyrio sat on an oversized velvet sofa, his ten fingers covered in magnificent gemstone rings—tourmaline, agate, diamond, ruby, and so on.
Rhaegar genuinely worried that this fat Magister would crush the sofa.
The room was warm and cozy, and Rhaegar's demeanor was relaxed and natural.
However, Magister Illyrio Mopatis appeared somewhat reserved. The Silver Dragon before him was elegant and at the height of his power, and no one could ignore the formidable military force he commanded.
"The Long Night is long, and dangers are everywhere!" Rhaegar heard the occasional prayers of the Red Priests near the mansion, rising like waves, one after another.
The faith of R'hllor was prevalent across the continent of Essos; if nothing else, R'hllor certainly had a knack for displaying magical power.
Fire, resurrecting the dead, shapeshifting—it was far superior to the Seven Gods.
In places like Pentos and Volantis, traces of the followers of the red god could be seen everywhere.
The religion of the red god still wanted to spread to Westeros; after all, the Iron Throne represented a king, a royal power.
The red god was yearning for it; Westeros was a rich mine of faith.
"These Red Priests are truly noisy!" Rhaegar complained to Magister Illyrio Mopatis.
According to the Unsullied eunuch guarding the door, the Red Priests had come many times, throwing down calling cards, wanting to preach to the Dragonlords.
But Rhaegar had given orders that none of these Red Priests were to be allowed in; they were all to be escorted out—courtesy first, then force.
However, these Unsullied eunuchs knew their limits and would not actually beat up the Red Priests.
"Power is a force, and faith is the same! I do not wish to offend the power of these Red Priests, even as a Magister. Extreme believers are terrifying!" Magister Illyrio Mopatis said.
Rhaegar agreed deeply with this; back then, those extreme followers of the Seven Gods had caused so much trouble.
"The faith of the red god is not effective when spread to the lower classes, and I hear that the people of Westeros are very devout toward the Seven Gods. The Red Priests are now considering the upper-class route; they want to influence you to, in turn, preach in Westeros." Magister Illyrio Mopatis saw things very clearly.
"I have never believed in such things!" Rhaegar scoffed.
"Since when does a True Dragon need to discuss faith with Red Priests?"
Magister Illyrio Mopatis said nothing more; there was no helping it.
In the era of the Dragonlords of Old Valyria, the Dragonlords always appeared as blasphemers, believing only in their own magic and dragons; the Dragonlords were even more tyrannical than the gods.
When the dragon speaks, all voices of opposition fall silent.
"Winter is here, Magister Illyrio Mopatis!" Rhaegar looked at Magister Illyrio Mopatis; the cold winter was currently the greatest enemy.
"Yes, although we are far from the Land of Always Winter here, we can still feel the change in climate!" Magister Illyrio Mopatis said solemnly, the climate change was arriving quickly.
"I have a request!" Rhaegar looked at the greasy Illyrio.
"Speak, my young friend. Whatever I can accomplish, I will always fulfill your request!" Magister Illyrio Mopatis waited for Rhaegar's request.
"Help me secretly store grain! The more, the better! Pentos has developed trade routes; take advantage of the fact that grain is still cheap now!"
"You mean to say, this winter will last for a long time?" Magister Illyrio Mopatis said in surprise.
A long winter is no more than two or three years; could it be any longer?
"Winter has arrived, and I can only say that this winter will be extremely harsh!" Rhaegar told Magister Illyrio Mopatis to also prepare.
Magister Illyrio Mopatis fell silent; once the cold winter arrived, it would be a threat to every city-state.
It was just that the Free Cities were far from the Land of Always Winter, so the damage suffered would be lighter than in Westeros.
"What is the current situation in Pentos?" Rhaegar asked Magister Illyrio Mopatis.
"Still the same. Most people are worried about the deepening conflict between the Dragonlords of Westeros and the Sealord of Braavos! Pentos is caught between two powerful nations, making it difficult to satisfy both." Magister Illyrio Mopatis sighed.
He was currently like someone waiting for the results of a competition, knowing that a battle royale was inevitable, but when it would happen and what the outcome of the war would be was unpredictable! He certainly wanted Rhaegar to win!
"Does Braavos have supporters in the Council of Governors?" Rhaegar asked, determination filling his purple eyes.
"To be precise, they are not supporters, but those who are afraid. You know, the Sealord of Braavos has beaten us many times, in order to seize the fertile land and water sources between the two city-states, as well as because of Pentos's history of slavery. Later, the Sealord of Braavos forced Pentos to sign a treaty of appeasement and ceasefire. With such a powerful armed force, everyone is certainly afraid. As for bribery or wooing? The Sealords of Braavos have always been arrogant and couldn't be bothered to bribe anyone!" Magister Illyrio Mopatis recalled the past events.
The implication was that the shadow this city-state had cast over them was simply too great. Without an absolute advantage, they would certainly not take a definitive stand.
"What are the specific divisions in the Council of Governors?" Rhaegar asked Magister Illyrio Mopatis. He also had some clues from Miro; it was nothing more than radical, moderate, and conservative.
"The faction supporting the Dragonlords, the faction supporting Braavos, and the majority are considered the moderates—confused and drifting with the tide, helping whoever wins." Magister Illyrio Mopatis spoke the truth.
"It is not just Pentos that is like this! Other cities should also have this kind of division."
"In the arena of power, most players are realistic. The Rhoyne River Alliance can be used to resist the Dothraki; the khal is an enemy of the civilized world. But attacking Braavos would be a bit difficult! Braavos often relies on lending, extortion, and intimidation; these Iron Bank peddlers and sailors often do not fight head-on, and other city-states are often deceived by them." Rhaegar analyzed.
Braavos, after all, still had a fearsome reputation. Besides victims like Pentos, Lorath in the north is a lackey of Braavos, and Volantis had its annexation plans disrupted by Braavos back in the day; the two countries are still competing openly and secretly for the title of the strongest nation, so to say there is no hatred would be a lie. For more city-states, such as the Third Daughter, Qohor, or Norvos, without a direct advantage, they would certainly choose to lie flat rather than pick a side!
"One move affects the whole situation! I have always loved peace, and I am full of goodwill toward my old friend Braavos, hoping that Braavos will treat me with the same goodwill. If that is not the case, then we can only meet on the battlefield." Rhaegar said with a smile to Magister Illyrio Mopatis. He had a charming smile, bright as a blade.
"My young friend, you certainly love peace very much!"
"By the way, I want a precise map of Braavos! It must be very detailed, incredibly real." Rhaegar made a request to Magister Illyrio Mopatis.
"A precise map of Braavos?" Magister Illyrio Mopatis was startled; could it be that Rhaegar was preparing to burn Braavos with his dragon?
"Just find the map! You have been fighting with Braavos for so long; I do not believe you don't have this hidden away!" Rhaegar was confident.
"I do have one!" Magister Illyrio Mopatis looked terrified. "My young friend, you wouldn't want to directly burn Braavos with your dragon, would you?"
"I am not that crazy; I just want to understand my good neighbor a little better!" Rhaegar replied with a smile. Magister Illyrio Mopatis looked at the Silver Dragon, feeling in his heart that he was truly crazy.
"I will not attack Braavos first."
"Fire is just a ruse; if the Sealord of Braavos is unhappy, I have also prepared a set of Water Magic for him!" Rhaegar thought to himself. Winter is coming, and the moment of weakness in Westeros is the best opportunity for Braavos to reclaim hegemony in Essos and limit the expansion of the Dragonlords. If Rhaegar were to circle and bomb with his dragon, the people of Braavos would certainly be prepared with crossbows or arrow towers. Since they pride themselves on the sea and their ships, a proper set of Water Magic is essential. Using the River Staff, he would do something big. Flood Braavos!
"Does Braavos have any mysterious powers besides its navy?" Rhaegar asked Magister Illyrio Mopatis.
"According to my understanding, there are only two: one is the Moonsingers priests, and the other is the Faceless Men of Braavos. The Faceless Men are even more terrifying." Magister Illyrio Mopatis mused.
"The cold winter is coming, and all things are killing each other! You must also pay attention to your own safety!" Rhaegar warned. "I will sooner or later have a direct confrontation with the Faceless Men!"
"Beware of the Faceless Men of Braavos!" Rhaegar smiled. "I may not have killed them, but they died because of me."
Magister Illyrio Mopatis turned pale instantly. "You are going to provoke the Faceless Men! Are you really going to war?"
"I am only speaking of a possibility! The cold winter has already arrived; they cannot choose to wait forever. If there are extremists who take risks, then I can only respond."
"My good friend, I have not forgotten you. If the situation here in Pentos starts to spiral out of control, then you should flee to Westeros first and stay under my wings!" Rhaegar had even arranged an escape route for his good friend.
"For that day, I have already made the corresponding preparations. If I should suddenly pass away, I will leave all my inheritance and wealth for you to inherit. Handing these assets over to you is better than giving them to my opponents, letting those dogs and Braavos people benefit. But, you must avenge me!" Magister Illyrio Mopatis's bloated body was filled with strength.
"Rest assured, my old friend. I still want to eat and chat with you; why think about such painful things? As for the wars of the future, I naturally have a way to handle them!" Rhaegar laughed heartily; it was rare for the fat Magister to have such a heart.
"Before the great war, you can still joke with me. This puts my mind at ease. The world loves peace, but in this era, peace is also a luxury." Magister Illyrio Mopatis breathed a sigh of relief.
"Braavos cannot be considered a truly powerful enemy; the truly powerful ones are yet to come." Rhaegar reminded Magister Illyrio Mopatis.
"Could it be magic and gods that surpass the Sealord of Braavos?" Magister Illyrio Mopatis suddenly realized.
Rhaegar smiled and did not answer further. The powerful enemy must be magic.
The god of cold, the Drowned God. Those ancient existences representing the faction of the god of cold have also mysteriously awakened. Perhaps the destructive power they bring is not something the people of Braavos can surpass. Slaughtering all living beings, terror returns.
Rhaegar wondered if there was some shady deal between the god of cold and the Faceless Men. Because the gift of the Faceless Men is death, and the god of cold also brings death. The Faceless Men are also a type of high-level assassin that transcends the peak of humanity. Braavos is the northernmost city-state and can feel the winter and cold winds.
Facing the god of cold, the Dragonlords and the red god are the extermination faction, a duel of fire and ice. And the incomprehensible Faceless Men might just be the passive faction. All men must die; accept the judgment of the god of cold.
As for the Drowned God, the awakening of the Drowned God might not be accidental. Heaven's will, carrying a certain destiny. If not Crow's Eye, there would be others; the Ironborn have the blood of the Drowned God and the madness of destruction, destined for such blasphemers and destroyers to appear. What Crow's Eye is bound to is his own bloodline and sacrifice; one represents the inheritance of divine blood, and the other represents the faith of the devout.
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