Game of Thrones: I am Dothraki, not a barbarian

Chapter 157 Broken City
"Boom!"

The shockwave from the explosion shook the entire Stonehelm City. The city gate and the surrounding stone walls were shattered into pieces, and rubble and wood chips flew everywhere like a storm.

The nearest defenders were blown away by the shockwave, some were hit by rocks and shattered into pieces. For a moment, screams, wails and the sound of the city wall collapsing were intertwined.

As the thick smoke gradually dissipated, the once impregnable city gate was now just a huge hole, and a long section of the city walls on both sides had become a sloping ramp, lower in the middle and higher on the sides.

"Gods above!"

"The Dothraki used magic!"

"Quick, run away!"

Most of the surviving defenders were thrown to the ground by the explosion, struggling and scrambling to their feet. Even those who could stand were all like drunkards, walking unsteadily and unable to hold their weapons.

Gulian was stunned and staggered to his feet, his face covered in blood. His previous pride had been replaced by pure fear.

"Stop...stop!"

He screamed at the top of his lungs, but no one paid him any attention. "Don't run! That's not magic! That's..."

He didn't know what the explosion had been about. All he knew was that if the garrison fled, he would fall into the hands of the Dothraki and suffer a fate worse than death.

Dzeko and his Kas, along with over a thousand horses, were all terrified, their front hooves rearing up, throwing their ranks into chaos.

Lahalo's original Karasa warriors were not simply used to it; rather, they had already consciously undergone appropriate desensitization training for their warhorses.

For example, tapping a copper basin near the warhorse's ear, gradually increasing the intensity, so the impact is much smaller in comparison.

Dzeko managed to calm his warhorse, but his eyes remained vacant and his mouth remained open for a long time.

His shock was no less than that of the defenders, but instead of fear, it was replaced by admiration.

If they had chosen to oppose Lahalo back then, how many of their khalasars would have survived?
Lazar, with an air of experience, patted him on the shoulder, "My blood, it's time to charge!"

Lahalo drew his scimitar, raised it high above his head, and let out a shout to the sky: "Karasa! Charge!"

More than five thousand Slark warriors surged toward the massive breach like a tidal wave, their battle cries mingling with the clatter of hooves and the ringing of bells, creating a chilling symphony of war.

Wherever the scimitar went, arcs of light flashed and blood splattered everywhere!

As Gulian watched the city gates fall, his face turned ashen. He shakily climbed down from the ruins of the city wall, trying to escape into the depths of the castle, but it was too late. A group of Dothraki cavalrymen rode their horses up the slope and surrounded him.

"Don't kill me!" Gulian tried to find the young creditor among the enemies. "Tell Lahalo, if I die, you won't be able to collect your debts!"

In less than an hour, Gurian, his wife, steward, and all the elderly, women, and children of his family were brought before Rahalo, where they wept and made a scene. Meanwhile, the Count was pushed to his knees by several Dothraki men.
In the morning, he was a high-ranking nobleman, but now he can only kneel on the ground as a prisoner.

He sighed deeply; the long-established Sven family was completely finished.

His ancestor, Joanna Sven, was once the de facto ruler of Reese and was known as the Black Swan.

Before her death, she left behind a wide network of connections, including Admiral Sharak Lohar of the Rhodes Navy, who facilitated the opening of a branch of the Rhodes Bank in King's Landing. This was also the reason why her grandfather was able to borrow a huge sum of money from the Rhodes Bank.

Gulian looked around at the wheat-skinned Dothraki people with braids adorned with bells, and cold sweat broke out all over his body.

Their scimitars were still stained with blood, and they all stared at him with a chilling gaze, as if assessing livestock awaiting slaughter.

Just then, the soldiers parted to make way, and a figure appeared in the middle—it was Lanoso Mar!

Gulian's bladder twitched, and he almost lost control of his bladder on the spot. When the IOU was being seized, the captain of the guard had stabbed him with his sword. Now, his shoulder was bandaged, his face was pale, but his expression was surprisingly calm.

Lanoso walked up to Gulian, squatted down, looked him in the eye, and spoke in a gentle voice.

“Count Gurian,” he said, “are you now willing to talk about the debts your ancestors owed?”

Gulian's throat twitched violently, and he nodded his head like a chicken pecking at rice. "I admit it. Paying back debts is a matter of course!"

Rahalo patted Lanoso on the shoulder and led the Blood Guards to admire their own castle.

"When do you plan to pay off this debt?" Lanoso showed no sign of displeasure at yesterday's ordeal.

The butler beside Gulian mustered his courage and spoke:
"My lord, the Shiwen family's annual tax revenue is only around two thousand eight hundred gold dragons. If this continues, I'm afraid..."

A warrior kicked the butler over, silencing him on the spot.

Gulian's forehead was covered in cold sweat. "I still have 330,000 gold dragons in my vault. Could I use that gold to repay the principal first? As for the interest, perhaps we can discuss it separately?"

Lannoso shook his head seriously. "Count Gulian, allow me to remind you. I am a debt collector for the Roger Bank. What do the Dothraki have to do with me?"
The golden dragon in your vault is spoils of war from the Dothraki; how can that be considered repayment?

Gulian was struck dumb, frozen in place.

After a long silence, he asked in a trembling voice, "Then...how am I supposed to pay back the money?"

“You can mortgage your castle, all the land under your jurisdiction, and all your subjects to me, and I can help you convert them into gold dragons.”

"My castle? My land? And my people?"

Gulian was utterly desperate.

Having given him these things, he would have nothing left. How could a penniless earl support his family? Would he have to beg for food?
Lanoso took out a parchment and a quill from his pocket: "Stonehelm and the surrounding lands are estimated to be worth about 160,000 gold dragons."

The castle itself, considering its historical value and strategic location, is worth approximately 100,000 gold dragons.

As for your tenant farmers, there are approximately 15,000. At the average price in Slaver's Bay, each person receives four gold dragons, totaling 60,000 gold dragons.

He scribbled on the paper for a while, then looked up and said, "A total of 320,000 gold dragons. Because you previously injured the debt collector, namely myself, the shareholder has decided not to reduce the principal and interest."

Therefore, after paying interest, you currently owe a principal of 360,000 gold dragons and interest of 28,486,555,696,400 gold dragons.

Gulian felt a wave of dizziness. His life's wealth, the accumulation of several generations of his ancestors, and even the people under his command, were not even worth a fraction of what he had when converted into gold dragons!
Grandpa, oh Grandpa,
You spend money so freely, while I don't even get a sip of soup, yet I have to pay the bill. You should at least let me know before you die!

Lanoso's voice remained calm. "My lord, you have two choices. Either accept this offer, pay off the debt with everything you have, and sign a new IOU acknowledging the remaining debt, or..." He gave a meaningful glance at the menacing Dothraki warriors around him.

Gulian understood the implication; he actually only had one choice: to obey.

Lanoso handed the quill to Gulian: "Sign here, Your Excellency. This new IOU acknowledges that you still owe Roger Bank 284,865,569,640 gold dragons. However, the bank allows you to use all of your assets, and the proceeds generated from those assets, to offset part of the debt."

Gulian's hands were shaking so badly he could barely hold the pen, but he still managed to sign his name.

Lanoso put away the parchment with satisfaction and smiled, "Congratulations, Earl Gulian, you have just averted a disaster. As a representative of the bank, I am glad that we were able to resolve this peacefully."

"Peace?" Gulian's lips curled into a bitter smile as he looked at the corpses of the garrison soldiers scattered everywhere and the collapsed fortress gate.

“Compared to other possible outcomes, this is the most peaceful one,” Lanno smiled. “At least you’re still alive.”

(End of this chapter)