Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Ries—Honey, Blade, and Sober Pleasure

Before the ship even docked, the scent of Ries had already enveloped us—sweet, warm, with a certain decadent fragrance, like an overblown golden lotus.

The entire city is bathed in a perpetually warm, misty haze, where the setting sun seems to stand still, gilding the painted rooftops, languid balconies, and every smile with a luxurious yet false golden edge.

Here, desire is a commodity with a clear price tag and on display.

Along both sides of the long street, there were more pleasure houses than bakeries. Men and women draped in thin veils leaned against the balconies, their laughter as sticky as honey, dripping onto the shoulders of every passerby. The air was a chaotic symphony of scents: cloyingly sweet wine, expensive oriental spices, and a more intimate, alluring musk—a perfume unique to Ries, masking the smell of calculation and transaction.

I tried their honey cake, sprinkled with gold leaf-like spices; one bite and the scalding syrup almost burned my throat.

Delicious, yes, but that's precisely where the danger lies—many desserts are laced with a gentle drug, not for flavor, but to knock you unconscious.

The most classic trap is those lavishly decorated "flower boats," with velvet cushions and fresh flower decorations, promising to take you on a tour of the most beautiful waterways. But once you board, the sweet air will knock you out, and when you wake up, you are no longer a tourist, but a commodity, chained to your feet, standing on an auction stage for others to look at.

Despite repeated warnings from Red Viper, many Ironborn and mercenaries remained unconvinced.

However, it is precisely this undisguised hypocrisy that makes Rhys seem so...real to me.

It doesn't pretend to be noble, nor does it conceal its greed.

It blatantly uses beauty and sweetness to deceive, yet generously bestows the ultimate sensory pleasure. Here, every smile may conceal a blade, and every handshake may be a valuation.

Ries doesn't deceive you about what it is. It simply lays out a web woven with temptation, testing the will and clarity of every intruder. And I, I admire this cruel honesty immensely.

This is the Red Viper, the favorite place of our Dornish Prince Oberyn Martell. Upon arriving in Rhys, he couldn't wait to snuggle into its gentle embrace. The other mercenaries and the Ironborn traveling with me were the same; I gave them three days of freedom to roam and enjoy themselves. After all, they're all men, I know that.

Although that's what I said, being under eight years old, I felt powerless to do anything about it. So, I decided to teach my maid, Lisa, how to use her sword and dagger to protect herself. This unintentional act led me to discover another way to earn One Piece system points.

You defeated the maid Lisa and earned 5 points.

My maid can't be that weak, so I've decided to continue training her.

[You defeated the maid Lisa, but did not gain any points. —You can only gain a maximum of one victory or kill point against the same enemy per month, and the number of points will decrease.]

Unfortunately, I was still hoping to rack up points. But then I looked at the other two women—the Red Priestess, whom the Red Viper had always coveted, a woman of great wisdom and striking red hair, and the Shadowbinder, who came from the Shadowlands and whose face was completely covered by a mask, with only her emerald green eyes visible.

I kindly advised them: Magic is a good thing, but... casting spells takes time, and sometimes spells don't even work, so you need to learn how to use short swords or other weapons.

You defeated the Red God Priestess Gwendolyn, earning 20 points.

You have defeated the Shadowbinder Evelyn, earning 30 points.

On the third day, when Oberyn Martell returned after playing all night, he saw the three of them clutching their butts and looking at me with resentful expressions. He suddenly realized what was going on and gave me a thumbs up. Soon, all the mercenaries and Ironborn "knew" about my feat, and they all admired me wholeheartedly.

Sigh, I'm too lazy to explain. Let them misunderstand.

After spending twenty days in this luxurious city, I finally understood what it meant to be extravagant and decadent. In the end, I didn't buy the local specialty: bed slaves. I only bought a few madams who knew how to train bed slaves. Westeros might need more exotic features.

Well, I plan to open a Red Pavilion in each kingdom. Making money is secondary; this is where news spreads the fastest. Building an information network is something I've always wanted to do but never had the chance to do. This might be an opportunity.

The land of gentle pleasures is a graveyard for heroes! If I hadn't given them the unquestionable order to leave, they could have stayed here their whole lives, only to die on a woman's belly!

Two Ironborn and one Mercenary have gone missing. They haven't shown up by the agreed time. They may be dead, or they may be... living a life worse than death!

Honesty and keeping promises are universal standards! Therefore, we will no longer wait, nor will we search indiscriminately; they must take responsibility for their every act of willfulness.

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Talosi – Extravagance, Pepper, and Knives in Dark Alleys

The moment the ship entered the harbor, the city ruthlessly pierced my eyes.

Painted towers, gilded domes, mansions adorned with intricate carvings of gods and monsters—Telosi, like an overdressed prostitute, flaunts her vulgarity and wealth unabashedly under the blazing sun. The entire city is a stage that never closes, and everyone who steps in is forced to become an actor.

On the dock, a wave of heat carried two distinct smells: the pungent chemical odor of the dye market and the sweet, fresh aroma of the citrus market. They mingled strangely, filling the air. Baskets of oranges and lemons displayed vibrant colors, while nearby, vats of indigo, crimson, and purplish-red splashed out even more intense hues, soaking into the fabrics and staining the fingertips and souls of those haggling.

This is a paradise for trade, and a sanctuary for outlaws. Pirates with scimitars at their waists and scarred mercenaries weave through the crowds, paying with gold coins and settling disputes with swords. I witnessed a quarrel at a gambling table; before a word was even finished, a dagger was already plunged into a throat. The daytime hustle and bustle is a cover for trade, but once night falls, the port belongs only to shadows and murder. In the dim light, a cold arrow is more common than a greeting.

I sat down at a smoky stall and ordered their signature dish: grilled fish with fire pepper. The whole fish was coated in a thick layer of scarlet peppers, grilled until it was charred and piping hot. I took a bite, and instantly, the intense freshness and the violent burning sensation exploded simultaneously, shooting straight to the top of my head. Delicious, but aggressive, as if warning diners: here, even a dish carries an unyielding edge.

Tellosi makes no secret of its rules. It lures you in with its extravagance and teaches you to stay awake with its savagery. Here, letting your guard down is suicide.

The Ironborn and mercenaries clashed with the pirates in the tavern, which escalated into a full-blown battle. We eventually wiped out the pirates, but three Ironborn and ten mercenaries died there.

Ah, this is the norm in life. Life and death are unpredictable, and I've long since learned to accept it.

The best-selling items here are pear brandy, ornately decorated armor, and elaborate instruments of torture. I don't like brandy, I prefer practical and inexpensive armor, and the instruments of torture are useless (although Prince Dorne, who enjoys playing some perverse games, is quite interested in them).

After cremating the thirteen of our deceased companions, we left the city.