Chapter 113 - Chapter 108: The Fire of Prometheus

(Bonus chapter with 250 power stones)

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 108: 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕱𝖎𝖗𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖚𝖘. 

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Vlad walked between the worktables until he stopped beside the central table, where Marwyn was reviewing several scrolls covered in notes.

The maester looked up when he noticed his presence, and a faint smile appeared beneath his unkempt beard.

Vlad had met him years earlier in Essos, near the Red Temple of Volantis. Since then, it had become clear that he neither feared magic nor tried to deny it, but studied it without reservation, with a curiosity that had turned him into a controversial figure among the maesters.

That was why, when Vlad offered him the position of his personal arcane researcher, Marwyn did not need much time to think about it. And when, to seal the agreement, he also offered him the Embrace, any doubts he might have harbored disappeared completely.

The possibility of studying magic without limits would already have been enough to attract him, but the opportunity to gain new supernatural abilities and analyze them in his own flesh made the proposal irresistible.

That was why he was there.

—It is always a pleasure to see you here, Your Grace —Marwyn said with a faint smile.

Vlad looked at the old man. His appearance always amused him, as it was almost a cliché for a bearded old man dressed in robes to be so obsessed with magic.

—Marwyn, a pleasure, as always —Vlad replied before quickly getting to the point—. How are the tests progressing?

The maester's eyes lit up at the question.

—Better than expected —he explained quickly—. The tattoos have exceeded our initial expectations, they remain stable, and the subjects only show fatigue after prolonged use. They will be ready soon.

Vlad nodded, satisfied. He had ordered the Tremere to prioritize testing the runic tattoos over any other research. The project was too important for the war and even for politics, so they had spent months keeping the prisoners well fed so that they would be in optimal condition for the tests.

Soon they would be able to begin using volunteers and training them in the use of their new abilities.

—Good, this will give us the advantage we need —Vlad stated, turning his attention toward a table at one side of the room.

There rested, carefully placed, one of the artifacts he had ordered built according to his instructions.

—We have also finished the mirror prototype —Marwyn added, following his lord's gaze—. It was quite a challenge, but by following your specifications and using your runes, we completed it in less than a week.

The mirror looked simple, but the glass was surrounded by a Valyrian steel frame covered in runes that continued along the metal base.

—Have you tested it yet? —Vlad asked, approaching the artifact.

Marwyn nodded, excited like a child.

—Several times —he replied as he moved beside him—. One is near the borders of Highgarden, and the image and voice are transmitted without delay as long as both pieces remain intact.

Vlad was genuinely impressed. Although most of the runes came from him, the fact that his scholars had managed to create a finished product from vague notions demonstrated that gathering brilliant minds together was the right path forward.

—How many can you manufacture? —Vlad asked, examining the runes engraved around the glass.

The old man shook his head.

—Very few for now —Marwyn admitted, resting one hand on the frame—. But we will be able to accelerate the process over time.

Vlad paid little attention to the delay. In fact, it was better not to flood the market with something like that just yet.

—Keep working on it —he ordered, stepping away from the mirror.

The old man looked back at the artifact, almost affectionately.

—This will change warfare —Marwyn commented reverently.

—This will change the world, Maester Marwyn —Vlad corrected him, gesturing toward the workshop—. A kingdom is much easier to govern when you can speak with any castle without waiting weeks.

Marwyn nodded and began rummaging through several piles of scrolls stacked on a nearby table, moving aside books, diagrams, and tools in a largely unsuccessful attempt to impose some order on the usual chaos of his workspace.

—The other projects are progressing as well —he continued after finally pulling another set of plans from the clutter—. Construction of the first airship prototype should begin in a few weeks.

Vlad studied the plans carefully.

—Your competence is a delight, Marwyn —he declared after reviewing the designs—. It is a true pleasure to have you at the head of the clan.

Marwyn grinned shamelessly. He was more than grateful for the opportunity Vlad had given him, but he truly could not understand his lord's mind or motivations.

—I still do not understand your obsession with airships —the maester admitted, pointing toward the plans Vlad was holding—. You already have dragons.

Vlad shook his head vehemently.

—Dragons are for the royal family —he replied as he returned the plans to the table—. There will never be dragons for anyone else, and no other family will even be allowed to think about having them.

Marwyn remained silent. Although he did not understand why Vlad intended to conquer the skies by other means, he remembered the accounts of the Dance of the Dragons far too well to overlook his reasoning.

Obviously, he did not know the details of the new nature of Vlad's dragons. As intelligent creatures, there was no longer the slightest possibility that one dragon would attack another, for they would never turn against their own blood.

—I have also obtained the weirwood you requested —Marwyn announced, heading toward another of the tables—. It was neither easy nor cheap, but we brought several trunks from the North.

Vlad turned his gaze toward the wood.

—What do you need it for? —Marwyn asked as he picked up one of the fragments.

Vlad remained silent for a moment before answering.

—It is a side project, but it will have to wait —he admitted, contemplating the wood in the maester's hands—. We will not be able to begin until we have much more Valyrian stone.

—I thought we already had enough —Marwyn commented with a frown.

—For experimentation, yes —Vlad clarified, turning his attention back to the maester—. But not for what I have in mind. I need a volume equivalent to a couple of fortresses.

Marwyn nodded, immediately understanding the scale implied by such an amount.

After a little more small talk and finishing his review of the latest developments within the Tremere clan, Vlad said goodbye to Marwyn and left the workshop, heading toward the council.

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The meeting chamber of Casterly Rock was built from the same dark stone as the rest of the fortress, with tall windows through which the light from outside filtered and spread across the floor and the austere walls.

A large round table dominated the center of the room, surrounded by wooden seats, while several pieces of furniture displayed expensive wines, crystal decanters, and works of art selected to decorate the chamber.

Vlad occupied one of the seats, dressed in a white silk tunic that left his arms bare and sober, comfortable black trousers. Daenerys sat to his right in an exquisite white dress that contrasted with the prevailing darkness of the room.

Around them, Lena, Dorian, and Greylon were seated around the table covered with maps and open scrolls.

Lena wore a tight black dress that accentuated her impressive curves and pale skin, while intense red lipstick adorned her lips in a shade so striking that Vlad had no idea where the hell she could have gotten it.

Dorian, clad in his usual ostentatious and excessive clothing, observed everyone with the arrogance that always seemed to accompany him.

Greylon, by contrast, wore the Unsullied uniform, distinguished only by the epaulettes that indicated his position within the military hierarchy, a detail Vlad had personally introduced into the army.

Greylon was the first to speak.

—The news from the south is, for the most part, what we expected —he reported in a professional tone as he spread several maps across the table—. Olenna Tyrell has mobilized all her bannermen and is concentrating forces along Highgarden's western borders. They expect an attack from our lands and are preparing accordingly.

—That is within expectations —Vlad commented calmly.

—However, King's Landing is also gathering troops —Greylon continued as he pointed to another location on the map.

That caused several heads to rise. According to all their spies, the Crown had enough money for four months, but nothing beyond that.

—King's Landing? —Daenerys asked with a frown—. They should not have the money for that.

Greylon gave a small, sardonic smile.

—They do not —he agreed in a grave tone—. But they are recruiting despite their limited funds.

Lena crossed her legs before speaking.

—King Tommen has better advisers than we expected, and the money is coming from the Tyrells —she commented calmly—. Margaery Tyrell seems far more capable than most assumed. She has a good head for politics, understands diplomacy, and, from what it seems, is no stranger to military matters either.

A faint smile appeared on her lips.

—Besides, the girl has the boy completely besotted —she added with a hint of irony.

Vlad remained silent for several seconds, considering the information.

—It does not change much —he finally declared—. These movements were to be expected. They may accelerate some preparations, but they do not significantly affect our plans.

Lena's expression lost any trace of amusement, and she nearly let out a sigh.

—Unfortunately, that may not be entirely true —she contradicted him seriously.

The table fell silent.

Daenerys exchanged a brief glance with Vlad before turning her attention back to the spymaster.

—What do you mean? —she asked with a slight frown.

For a moment, Lena wished the earth would swallow her. It was not that she intended to lie, but no one liked being the one who delivered bad news to their boss.

Much less when that boss was called the Impaler Lord.

—We may have to reconsider several of the actions we had planned —Lena replied gravely.

Vlad watched as she rested her elbows on the table. He had known Lena for far too long, and it was clear that he was not going to like the news at all.

—We are talking about the attack on the Iron Islands, are we not? —he deduced thoughtfully.

She seemed surprised, but there were few other possibilities. It was the only operation carried out recently that could have blown up in their faces.

—Exactly —Lena confirmed with a slight inclination of her head—. Although the attack was completely justified and within our plans, we did not expect such a negative reaction from the nobility of Westeros.

Dorian finally abandoned his carefree attitude and focused his full attention on the conversation. Greylon, for his part, remained serious on the other side of the table.

—How bad is it? —Vlad asked, keeping his gaze fixed on her.

Lena picked up one of the scrolls spread before her and briefly scanned its contents before answering.

—According to my spies, the destruction of the islands has completely altered the perception that much of the nobility had of us —she explained in a measured tone—. Many of the lords who were willing to negotiate, listen to our proposals, or even consider an alliance have rejected any approach.

No one responded immediately.

Vlad had expected consequences after destroying Pyke, but nothing like this.

—How many are we talking about? —he asked incredulously.

—Nearly two-thirds of the nobles outside the Westerlands are now considerably less willing to cooperate with us —Lena replied gravely—. In some cases, they outright consider us a greater threat than the Crown itself.

Vlad's expression hardened as his mind began working at full speed.

He had anticipated fear and had even considered it useful, but he had focused primarily on how the common people would react. He had not considered how the nobles would respond, as he had assumed they would join him out of simple convenience, attracted by the benefits he offered.

He had accounted for their stupidity, but not their cowardice.

Vlad rose without saying a word and walked away from the table. Daenerys reached out to catch him by the arm as he passed beside her, but ultimately let him go when he stopped in front of one of the tall windows.

Dorian followed his movements in silence, barely suppressing a faint smile of satisfaction, though he was clever enough to quickly return to his usual expression of indifference.

Daenerys kept her eyes on Vlad for a few moments before turning her attention back to the spymaster.

—They have turned their backs on us for destroying a band of raiders? —she asked with open indignation.

Lena slowly shook her head.

—It is not the destruction of the Ironborn that concerns them —she corrected calmly—, but the fact that you wiped out an ancient noble house like the Greyjoys.

Daenerys frowned slightly. Beside her, Greylon tapped his fingers against the table thoughtfully, though his expression betrayed no surprise whatsoever.

—Even so, we are talking about the Ironborn —she replied incredulously—. They were hardly a well-liked house in Westeros.

She did not understand it. No one had been allied with the Greyjoys, not for decades. History had shown that every alliance with the Ironborn ended in betrayal or defeat. Yet now the noble houses would unite because of them?

—That matters far less than you think —Lena explained as she set aside the scroll before her—. Many lords have interpreted this as a message. If that is what you did to a Great House for resisting you, they fear what might happen to them if they ever challenge you.

Daenerys did not answer immediately.

From his seat, Dorian let out a quiet breath before leaning back against his chair, already thinking about how to profit from the situation.

—I cannot say their reasoning is entirely without merit —the merchant remarked indifferently—. Most nobles are far more interested in keeping their heads than in asking whether the Greyjoys deserved to lose theirs.

Daenerys gave him a distinctly displeased look, but Lena continued before she could respond.

—By contrast, the smallfolk have received it as a victory —she added after a brief pause—. Word has spread that the attack was retaliation for the Ironborn raids on your coasts, and many regard you as little short of a hero.

The contradiction did nothing to improve Daenerys's mood.

—That is a far more reasonable reaction than the nobles' —she replied with displeasure—. We are talking about a house that had spent centuries raiding the coasts of Westeros.

Greylon gave a slight shake of his head.

—My lady, you cannot expect most people to be logical, least of all the nobles —he replied calmly—. They will seek to preserve their status and their wealth above all other considerations.

By the window, Vlad remained with his back to the table. He did not turn around even when he spoke, though the tone of his voice was enough to send a chill down the spine of everyone present, except for Daenerys.

—Wisdom has never been a requirement for ruling —he said gravely.

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Good afternoon, everyone. As always, thank you very much for being here for another week and continuing to support the story.

This week's chapter continues to focus on Vlad's inventions, the things he's introducing to Westeros, his magic system, and, in general, all the changes that will gradually transform society.

However, both this chapter and the next will focus especially on Vlad's relationship with his progeny. Who can truly be trusted, who can't... Well, you'll see. There are a few small hints in this chapter.

Above all, I want to continue developing the progeny as independent characters and explore their relationships with Vlad beyond simply following his orders.

I hope you enjoy the chapter and, as always, thank you very much for reading.

See you next week.