Game of Thrones: The Red Dragon Lord.

Chapter 239: Volantis Rebellion

Jinwala nodded slightly and said solemnly: "You can mobilize a thousand Holy Fire Hands at any time. The believers of the Red God are willing to serve you."

Narciso bowed respectfully and said earnestly, "Thank you for your generous help, High Priest. The survival of Volantis may depend on these 1,000 Holy Fire Hands."

The high priest still looked calm. She no longer looked at him, slowly turned around and walked away into the depths of the hall. After a moment, her voice came from the depths of the temple.

"This is all R'hllor's will, not Volantis's."

The night fell like a huge piece of black silk, gently covering the city of Volantis.

After leaving the Red Temple, Narciso hurried back to his mansion. As soon as he entered the mansion, he immediately summoned his most trusted confidant and whispered, "You, quickly deliver this letter to Governor Dofas!" After receiving the order, the confidant quickly disappeared into the night like a black shadow.

That night, the moonlight was like water, sprinkling on the quiet streets, as if coating every stone slab with a layer of silver frost.

Dauphas quietly came to Narciso's mansion with only a few guards.

After the guard at the gate quietly announced, Dofas walked quickly into the mansion, passed through the winding corridor, and came to Narciso's study.

In the study, the candlelight flickered, casting the figures of the two people on the wall, appearing a little distorted.

Dauphas and Narciso sat opposite each other, their eyes meeting in the candlelight.

Dauphas spoke first, his voice deep and powerful: "I will contact the officers of the Tiger Cloak Army and persuade them personally. We must ensure that we can firmly control the army from the first moment of the operation. At the same time, we must capture Malachor's confidants and cut off his arms. We must not leave Malachor any chance to fight back. After the matter is accomplished, I will inform you as soon as possible."

Narciso nodded slightly, his eyes gleaming with determination. He clenched his fists and said, "Okay, I will lead the monks to attack Malachor's mansion, and then use our two Unsullied Guards to control the council and ensure that Volantis is under our control."

The two of them gathered around the candlelight and discussed in detail various possible situations and countermeasures. After careful consideration, they finally carefully set the time of action as tomorrow night.

Time quickly came to the next night.

Outside the Red Temple, the moonlight was like water, sprinkling on the ancient buildings, outlining a mysterious and hazy outline.

Narciso, wearing armor that shone with cold light, waited solemnly for news from Dophas.

Behind him was a group of neatly arranged monks, all of them wearing red leather armor, with sturdy bodies and taut muscles, holding sharp weapons in their hands, which gleamed coldly in the moonlight.

At this moment, the sound of flapping wings suddenly came from the silent night sky. A carrier pigeon flapped its wings like a ghost and landed accurately on Narciso's shoulder. Narciso's eyes were stern, and he quickly and gently untied the paper on the pigeon's leg. His eyes quickly swept over the paper, and a hint of excitement and nervousness flashed in his eyes.

He took a deep breath and shouted, "Let's go!"

At the gate of Malachor's mansion, the slaves guarding the gate were originally guarding the gate out of boredom.

The night breeze blew gently, some of them yawned slightly, some looked ahead with empty eyes, as if they were thinking about something, or maybe they were not thinking about anything and were just mechanically completing their guard duties.

Suddenly, a dull sound of footsteps broke the silence, and a huge elephant appeared in sight, slowly walking towards the mansion. Behind the elephant, there was a team of Red Temple Holy Fire Hands, they were dressed in unique costumes, and the weapons in their hands flashed coldly in the moonlight, exuding a chilling aura.

The slaves were shocked by this and immediately stopped their lazy posture. They quickly straightened their bodies, put on respectful expressions, hurriedly sorted out their clothes, and then trotted to both sides of the road, stood in a neat line, and prepared to welcome the guests.

After all, in Volantis, only archons would ride elephants when traveling, which was a symbol of status and power.

An experienced steward quickly stepped forward and took a closer look in the moonlight. He immediately identified the elephant's owner as the governor, Narcisovi Sama.

His heart tightened involuntarily, and he quickly straightened his clothes and bowed his head respectfully, waiting for Narciso's arrival. At the same time, he was secretly guessing the purpose of this important man's visit at this time.

Narciso rode on the elephant's back, looking down at the slaves with cold and sharp eyes. The slaves were still unguarded, their faces were full of habitual respect, they quickly opened the door, then bent down deeply, their bodies almost parallel to the ground, welcoming Narciso's arrival with the most humble attitude.

The steward had sharp eyes, and he noticed at a glance that Narciso was unusual today. The consul was wearing armor today. This was very different from the consul's usual attire when he came to visit, and he couldn't help but feel puzzled.

He plucked up his courage, stepped forward quickly, and asked respectfully but cautiously: "Mr. Archon, what are you doing..."

However, Narciso did not bother to answer his question. He just sneered in his heart. These stupid slaves had no idea what disaster they were about to face.

Then, Narciso no longer hesitated. He waved his arms violently and shouted, "Attack!"

As his orders were given, the monk soldiers who had been ready for battle rushed into the mansion like a tide. The defenseless slaves were so shocked by this sudden change that they stood there in a daze, not knowing what to do.

At this time in the study, Malachor was sitting around a huge oak table with several Tiger Cloak Army officers, discussing the defense of Volantis.

Suddenly, there was a faint noise outside, breaking the silence. Malachor frowned, a trace of doubt and impatience flashed in his eyes. He immediately stopped what he was doing and shouted to the slave standing at the door: "Go and see what happened outside." The slave was about to obey the order and leave, but at this moment, a slave ran in panic, his eyes full of fear, and said in a trembling voice: "My lord, it's bad, Archon Narciso suddenly rushed into the mansion with the Holy Fire Hand of the Red Temple, killing everyone he saw!"

Malachor was immediately filled with rage when he heard this. Countless thoughts flashed through his mind, the first of which was a feeling of anger at being betrayed. He and Narciso were both consuls, and although they were not in the same party, they often fought for power, but he had never thought that such a fierce conflict would break out in his own mansion. "How dare Narciso start a rebellion!" he shouted in his heart.

He thought of yesterday's meeting and his heart tightened. He immediately guessed the purpose of Narciso's action.

"He wants to seize power, intends to surrender Gavin and offer up Volantis. Does Dauphas know this? No, he must know. Narciso cannot decide this matter on his own."

Malachor frowned, thinking about various possibilities.

"If Dofas is also in collusion with him, then wouldn't I be in a desperate situation today?" Malachor thought to himself, his anxiety growing stronger.

However, his years of political career and military experience allowed him to calm down quickly. The shouts and screams outside were getting closer and closer, as if the footsteps of death were approaching step by step. He knew that he could not panic at this moment and had to take action. Narciso came prepared, and he had to leave now, otherwise he could not hold on.

"Notify the Unsullied Guards, ignore them and escort me away immediately." Malachor ordered loudly.

A head-on conflict would lead to a desperate situation, but looking for an opportunity to break out through the back door might still offer a glimmer of hope.

Thinking of this, he didn't care about anything else and immediately ran towards the back door.

However, when he hurried to the back door, the scene in front of him made Malachor's heart sink to the bottom of the valley. He saw a flickering fire at the back door, and a group of monks stood there like ghosts. The weapons in their hands flashed coldly under the firelight, and the breath seemed to freeze the air.

The monks were on high alert, their eyes revealing coldness and determination, as if they were an insurmountable wall, ruthlessly blocking the retreat of Malachor and others.

Malachor thought to himself that something was wrong, and had no choice but to hastily command everyone to retreat. But as soon as they turned around, they heard the initial shouting and killing coming closer and closer, like a surging tide, shaking their eardrums.

At this moment, several red-robed Holy Fire Hands suddenly rushed out from the corner. Their eyes were sharp and full of cold murderous intent. When they saw Malachor, they immediately rushed towards him like hungry wolves.

For a moment, the corridor was in chaos. Swords shone and shadows crisscrossed, shouts and screams were heard one after another. Malachor waved his weapon vigorously, trying to fight his way out, but there were too many enemies and they were coming at him fiercely.

In this melee, Malachor saw that the situation was not good, and could only fight and retreat with the few remaining Unsullied beside him, frantically looking for a place to hide temporarily. Finally, they retreated into a room, and Malachor slammed the door shut, leaning against the door and breathing heavily, his eyes full of anxiety and unwillingness, while the shouting and killing outside continued, as if it would break through the door at any time and swallow them up completely.

The room was filled with tension and despair, and everyone's breathing seemed heavy and rapid. Malachor's face was as gloomy as the sky before a storm, and his eyes revealed deep anxiety and unwillingness.

The situation became extremely critical. The shouting and footsteps outside were getting quieter and quieter, but he still couldn't leave.

Malachor could feel the shadow of death looming over him little by little. Time seemed to stand still at this moment, and every second was filled with endless torment. His heart was filled with anger and helplessness. He hated Narciso's betrayal and regretted why he had not noticed the conspiracy in advance.

The room was filled with blood and despair. The groans of the wounded echoed in this small space, as if it was the prelude to death. Malachor leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. His body was covered with blood, both from the enemy and his own people. His eyes revealed fatigue and unwillingness, but the flame of anger was still burning.

At this time, Narciso came out of the room, his figure was a little blurred in the light of the fire. Narciso shouted loudly: "Malachor, you have no way to escape, surrender!"

Malachor stood up suddenly when he heard Narciso's voice. He rushed to the window, his eyes red, and asked angrily: "You traitor! What qualifications do you have to make me surrender? You started this rebellion and betrayed Volantis. You will be punished!" Malachor's voice trembled with anger. He continued to insult: "You are obviously planning to surrender, give Volantis to Gavin, and become his dog!"

Narciso stood outside the house with a gloomy face. He was silent for a moment and then said, "Everything I did was to protect my family. Look at the current situation. What can we use to fight? Gavin has three dragons, tens of thousands of troops, and an invincible fleet. We can't resist him. I have no choice but to do this. This is the only way for us to survive."

Malachor sneered and said mockingly, "You coward! Stop making excuses for yourself."

Narciso stopped arguing with him. He waved his hand and ordered, "Monks, attack!"

The monks rushed into the room like a tide, and the shouts of killing were deafening. Malachor looked at the approaching enemy, his heart filled with despair and anger. He knew that he had no way to escape today, but he would never be willing to die like this. In the last moments of his life, he cursed with all his strength: "Narciso, you and Dophas will not die well! You will be punished!"

As the monks rushed in, a final fight to the death began in the room. Malachor fought hard, but he was outnumbered. In the fierce battle, he was hit by the monks' weapons. His body shook a few times and slowly fell down, his eyes still full of resentment towards Narciso and unwillingness to accept his fate.

After Malachor was killed, a dead silence fell over the room.

Narciso walked into the room and looked at Malachor's body with mixed feelings.

At the same time, chaos broke out in the Tiger Robe Army camp in the inner city.

Several Elephant Party officers assassinated several unsuspecting Tiger Party officers in succession. After succeeding, the Elephant Party officers took the opportunity to control the troops led by those Tiger Party officers.

After the remaining Tiger Party officers learned of this, they angrily gathered the Tiger Robe Army under their control and formed a confrontation with the army controlled by the Elephant Party officers. The air was filled with a strong smell of gunpowder. Although there were no shouts of killing in the Tiger Robe Army camp, the tense atmosphere was almost frozen, as if the war would be completely ignited in the next second.

At this critical moment, Archon Dofas arrived hurriedly and used his status as archon to forcibly suppress the conflict and successfully control the army.

(End of this chapter)