The problem with the Vale was a mess of bad debts. After the Dance of the Dragons ended, no one dared to question Duchess Jeyne's legitimate rights, but she remained unmarried her entire life. Now, the position of heir to the childless Lady Arryn has always been a tempting prize in the eyes of the Vale's ambitious. Unfortunately, Lady Arryn already had someone in mind for this position—Joffrey Arryn, Knight of the Bloody Gate. This loyal and brave knight comes from a collateral branch of House Arryn, loyal, young, and strong. More importantly, Joffrey's wife bore him four sons and two daughters, two of whom are already adults. His ascension would change House Arryn's long-standing situation of orphans and widows.
But unfortunately, Jeyne's painstaking efforts were not understood by those ambitious individuals. Arnold Arryn, who had once competed with Jeyne for the succession when she was young, is now going mad in the cold sky cells high in the Eyrie. Another ambitious fellow, "Golden Eagle" Essonbar Arryn, died under Vermithor's claws. To be honest, Vermithor didn't even notice he had stepped on the head of the Arryn of Gulltown until he lazily flew into the valley to enjoy some goats. Today, the wealthy Arryns of Gulltown still hold special influence in this largest port town in the Vale.
"So, have you found out who hired the Faceless Men?" Dragonzel rubbed his chair. "Is it Edric Arryn, the new head of the Arryns of Gulltown?" Edric Arryn is Arnold Arryn's son. After Essonbar Arryn's death, this ambitious young man convinced the members of the Arryns of Gulltown to marry Essonbar Arryn's daughter, successfully inheriting the vast wealth of the Arryns of Gulltown.
Kungur Potter shook his head. "Someone and someone's successor belong to you and your family, Your Highness, from skin to soul. God actively cut off contact with someone, which also means that someone cannot obtain any support or help from the House of Black and White. Someone can only say that this is the most likely scenario."
"I see." Dragonzel nodded. "Your successor? Has the House of Black and White already chosen your successor?"
Dragonzel found this strange. He didn't expect the Many-Faced God, or rather, the House of Black and White, to invest so heavily in him. It wasn't enough to send one Faceless Man; it seemed they would continue to send new Faceless Men to serve his family.
"That is because of Your Highness's wisdom." Kungur Potter seemed to know many things. He nodded. "Faceless Men are acolytes of God, but not believers of God. Someone and someone's companions are merely to grant mortals the death they all eventually face."
The Faceless Man explained their beliefs.
"God's will is vague, but His agents have seen the future of this world in the eyes of the stagnant and those who will eventually die."
He recalled the conversation he had with "the Indifferent One," a conversation that changed the future of him, a skilled Faceless Man, transforming him from a killer in the shadows to a guardian in the shadows.
The Faceless Men's order yearns to grant mortals their due death, but never an undead death in the Long Night. Therefore, the Faceless Men's order is willing to cooperate with Dragonzel, a descendant of the "Chainbreaker."
"Someone's successor will come to your castle as someone's assistant and apprentice." Kungur Potter said slowly. "They will be responsible for protecting your eldest son, Lingor Varezes, and the wife you have chosen for him, Daniela. At the same time, they will protect your castle with someone."
"Have them go to the Vale before coming to Dragon Nest City." Dragonzel thought for a moment; perhaps a good opportunity to intervene in the Vale was coming.
"Keep an eye on your colleagues."
Kungur Potter nodded, once again merging into the shadows of Five Fingers Hall, disappearing, leaving only Dragonzel silently looking at the murals on the wall.
The mural was an incomplete world map, showing only Westeros south of the Wall, most of Essos, and a small area north of Sothoryos. Dragonzel ordered the areas north of the Wall and the Five Forts to be decorated with dragonglass to show their importance.
The family's historical records cited ancient legends from Asshai and Yi Ti, which claimed that in the previous Long Night, the demon known as the Night's Lion broke through the Five Forts north of the Great Empire of the Dawn, leading to the destruction of the once god-like Great Empire of the Dawn under the Bloodstone Emperor's fratricide and the demons' claws. This also suggested that the prophesied Long Night, nearly two hundred years later, would be similar.
Hopefully, by then, House Varezes would be strong enough to fulfill this world's long-cherished wish.
Thinking of this, Dragonzel sighed, sat down in his seat, and began to write a letter to Daemon. He planned to sell Viserys for a good price. Lisandro's offer was still very tempting. If he could gain more benefits from them, Daemon would probably not mind arranging a decent marriage for Viserys. After all, Lara Rogare, being Valyrian, was indeed a great beauty, even if she was much older than Viserys.
However, age has never been an issue, except, of course, when Duchess Jeyne was choosing a marriage partner for Dragonzel; the age difference between him and Lady Jeyne was indeed a bit large.
On the third floor of the Dragon Crystal Tower, which was the Bloodsworn Brothers' dining hall, Lisandro Rogare met Sebastian Blaze, the Golden Finger among Dragonzel's Five Fingers and the head of all finances for the Borderland Principality.
Unfortunately, this was a stubborn one, Lisandro Rogare regretfully thought to himself. All the gifts he had prepared for Sebastian were rejected by this young man, so he could only brace himself and approach Sebastian's dining table, only daring to sit down at the silver-haired young man's nod.
Today's meal for the Bloodsworn Brothers was still very hearty: a bowl of salad made from crushed walnuts and other nuts mixed with a special sauce, a large bowl of turnip, pea, and beet thick soup, a small lamb chop sprinkled with salt, pepper, and fire dragon peppers, a plate of honey-garlic boiled snails, as well as fried bacon and beef pie, and for the main course, a large piece of crispy hot bread.
Sebastian smiled and cut a piece of bread, slowly placing it on Lisandro's plate with his dining knife. The Bloodsworn Brothers' kitchen had fixed meals; Sebastian couldn't conjure up extra food for the Governor of Lys. But he also didn't want to give Lisandro anything good to eat.
Tigaro wasn't the only one who had a grudge against the Lyseni.
"Lord Sebastian." Lisandro carefully cut a piece of bread, put it in his mouth, and swallowed. He wasn't a fool; he naturally knew the background of these people close to Dragonzel.
The Governor of Lys wished he could go back ten years and slap those governors who plundered alongside the Three Daughters. By the Goddess's cunt, do you not know how serious the consequences of your actions were for Lys?
The powerful minister of House Varezes, who could influence the Borderland Principality, was a young man whose homeland had been plundered by Lysene pirates when he was young, and he had almost not even been able to keep his own butt.
And it wasn't just one; not only did Sebastian have this experience, but Hofa the Law-Holder, Dragonzel's most trusted Bloodsworn Brother and his son Lingor's teacher, had the same experience. He and his brother, Adams the Law-Holder—the current Count of Scale Fort—nearly lost their butts.
It is said that when they were rescued by the Silver Fleet, Adams was already being taught the seven spring-tide arts of Lys by the pirate captain. As for the fate of that pirate captain, after the Silver Fleet captured his ship, Hofa, who was still very young at the time, personally chopped off that man's cock and head.
"Governor, please rest assured." Sebastian nonchalantly cut the lamb chop with force, the dining knife scraping against the bone and emitting a chilling sound.
This made Lisandro somewhat restless; this Governor of Lys, who called himself "the Great," even had the illusion that Sebastian was cutting him.
"I am not someone who disregards important matters due to personal grudges. Please feel free to state your request."
After the handsome silver-haired young man finished speaking, he casually threw a bone into his mouth, chewing it with a crunch. He looked at Lisandro calmly, yet it sent a chill down the spine of this governor, who was seasoned in the business world.
"The Rogare Family hopes to establish a bank in Lace Town, Summerhall, or Silver Crown City." Lisandro swallowed his request for Sebastian to bridge the gap between him and Dragonzel along with a small piece of crispy bread, changing the topic to normal business dealings.
"If His Majesty and His Highness the Prince agree to our request, a bank from Lys could greatly facilitate trade between Lys and His Highness the Prince's territory, my lord. I don't mean to boast, but the Rogare Bank's reputation and strength are second only to the Iron Bank of Braavos."
Sebastian calmly scooped a spoonful of hot soup onto his bread, softening the crispy crust before eating it.
Second only to the Iron Bank?
Heh.
The strength of the Rogare Family was made very clear in Tigaro's intelligence reports. Indeed, for Lys, the Rogare Bank was quite powerful and wealthy, but for the entire Nine Free Cities, the eastern kingdoms, and even Westeros, the Iron Bank was the true king, although Dragonzel's father Cleorius's notes had complained about the Iron Bank's operating model more than once.
People often say that a Lannister always pays his debts, but in reality, the Iron Bank is truly unforgiving of arrears.
This ancient organization located in the deep pit of Braavos possesses immeasurable wealth. They love to lend gold at fair interest to princes, kings, or warlords, and then quietly await the fruits to ripen on the branches.
When those princes, warlords, or kings default on their debts, or are foolish enough to disrespect their contracts with the Iron Bank, new princes or kings—with the Iron Bank's financial assistance—will spring up like mushrooms. These new princes or kings must then acknowledge the previous debts and repay them along with the money they borrowed from the Iron Bank to win the throne, lest they suffer the same fate as their predecessors.
At this point, the former fine wine turns into deadly poison, and the Iron Bank's true key-holders will gladly pluck the withered fruits from the branches, planting a new cycle of bottomless debt.
Cleorius's evaluation was "bullshit," "nonsense," and "the Iron Bank isn't a bank at all."
Dragonzel's evaluation was that, although his father used foul language, he was right.
The Iron Bank was indeed not a simple bank, because its key-holding group had multiplied countless times over thousands of years. Behind every Sealord was the shadow of the Iron Bank, every Braavosi warship launched used the Iron Bank's gold, and even the House of Black and White had been receiving funding from the Iron Bank.
It is said that the three dragon eggs lost by House Targaryen still slumber in the deepest parts of the Iron Bank.
Mere money is not the foundation of the Iron Bank's worldwide fame.
Power is.
"My Lord, the crispy bread baked in the Dragon Crystal Tower kitchen tastes best when softened with hot soup. Princess Samantha and Princess Daniela love to eat it this way, especially with cream and honey, but Prince Lingor and His Highness do not like to eat it this way. However, when His Highness and Prince Lingor are with the two princesses, they will gladly enjoy this way of eating."
Sebastian said, "Do you understand what I mean?"
Lisandro sighed and stood up.
"I understand, Lord Sebastian. Please wait a moment; we will give you a satisfactory answer."
"You don't understand." Sebastian shook his head. "And that's not the answer that would satisfy me."
Lisandro gritted his teeth, realized what Sebastian meant, and could only say, "My Lord, I will arrange for one of my sons to have dinner with you. Also, we will give His Highness the Prince a satisfactory answer. My wife is already prepared."
Sebastian nodded.
"Governor, you should be more concerned about the people on Tigaro's side. He is not as easy to talk to as I am. However, please rest assured that we will not reduce your entourage by even one person before His Highness speaks."
The silver-haired young man cut the last lamb chop and slowly ate it.
Lisandro said somewhat dejectedly, "I understand. Thank you for your kindness."
On the other side.
In the open space in front of the Twin Towers, "Shadow" Danduo Ke silently looked at the dragonbone Valyrian steel scimitar at his feet and at Valarr, who was laughing heartily in front of him.
He silently knelt down and bowed his head to Valarr.
"What does he mean?" Valarr looked at Drazeko somewhat strangely. "It's rare for this big guy to last so long against me. If he were Big Brother's man, I would have rewarded him heavily long ago."
Drazeko breathed a sigh of relief; it seemed his strategy here had succeeded.
"Danduo Ke is following the rules of the Great Pit of Meereen. If Danduo Ke is defeated, his head belongs to you."
"Oh?" Valarr walked curiously around the giant. "You mean he belongs to me?"
Drazeko nodded excitedly.
Finally hooked.
Danduo Ke, you finally proved your worth. Big Brother didn't waste all that money buying you.
"Yes, Your Highness, from now on, Danduo Ke belongs to you."
"Thank you."
Valarr was not at all polite, drawing Black Widow and tapping Danduo Ke's shoulder.
"Stand up. I'll have Ammor arrange a position for you later. You can help guard the Twin Towers for now."
The mute warrior let out a strange muffled sound and stood up.
This time, he silently stood behind Valarr.
"Your Highness, I wonder if I have the honor to—"
Before Drazeko could finish, Valarr waved his hand to interrupt him.
"Stop talking nonsense. I know what you want to say. Go back and wait for news. I'll talk to Big Brother."
Valarr laughed and whispered into Drazeko's ear:
"But don't get your hopes up too much. You know, there's more than one of Big Brother's Bloodsworn Brothers who have a grudge against you Lyseni."
Also in Dragon Crystal Tower.
In Tigaro's basement, the long-haired young man with silver hair and purple eyes put on his white veil. In one hand, he held a sharp small knife, and in the other, a bottle containing an unknown liquid.
He walked expressionlessly into a small, dark room deep within the basement.
There was nothing much in the room, just a huge cross and a silver-haired young man tightly bound to it, stripped of his clothes, and with something stuffed in his mouth.
Seeing Tigaro approach him, the young man struggled, trying to make muffled sounds, but was ultimately pressed back by the ropes that tightly bound his limbs.
"Young Master Rogare, this is what you promised. If you can hold on, I will speak to His Highness and agree to your request."
Tigaro said coldly, his hands not stopping as he gently made a shallow cut on the young man's chest.
"Don't worry, you won't die, and there won't be any obvious wounds. That's also my promise."
Tigaro expressionlessly raised the potion bottle.
"It will hurt a bit. Hold on, Young Master Rogare."
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