Game of Thrones: The Black Dragon King

The river valley of the Kaiser Mountains, a blacksmith's workshop area.

It takes a hundred days to recover from a broken bone, but Red recovered in just half a month.

Reed himself was amazed and praised the system. In any case, his body, now recovered from his injuries, was full of energy again and ready to meet new challenges.

Before that, Reed planned to get himself some good supplies to save his life.

Master blacksmith Ham Black, sweating profusely and fearing his lord would hold him accountable, struggled to explain: "Your previous plate armor was made with the finest steel ingots, hammered over a dozen times, and finally shaped using cold forging. It also underwent oil quenching and carburizing. The steel's properties were pushed to their limits, and it also possesses the best protective shape..."

"However, it was all for naught. They pierced through it with a single thrust!" Reed patted his palm lightly with the rapier left behind by the Faceless One. After being baptized by the dragon flames, the pins, handguard, rope, and other components and decorations were all burned away, leaving only the bare blade.

The rapier is shaped like a three-pronged cone, with a relief of the Faceless One's mask on one side, an inscription that all men must die on the other, and an unreadable symbol resembling the letter A on the third.

Staring at the familiar smoky-colored texture and wavy patterns, Ham immediately understood Reid's thoughts and cried out, "My lord, this is Valyrian steel!"

"and then?"

"Cannot be copied!"

"and then?"

"I really can't copy it! My lord! How about I spend two months in the dungeon to vent your anger?"

Reed kicked him: "I'm asking if you can copy it? I'm asking why you can't copy it!"

Ham staggered a few steps, almost falling, but quickly regained his footing and said in a trembling voice, "My lord, Valyrian steel is so precious because its forging technique is extremely complex: it requires dragonfire and blood sacrifice magic, but what's even more difficult is the lack of raw materials. Some say that it only requires ordinary steel, which is given lightness and toughness through magical means; others say that it is a special precious metal that exists only under the fourteen ancient Valyrian fire peaks, a rare by-product found in corundum or gold mines, a very light and tough red-gold metal that becomes Valyrian steel after being forged with blood sacrifice magic and dragonfire."

"Some even say the raw material isn't natural mineral at all, but rather crystals formed from the vengeful spirits of dead miners. These rumors aren't entirely unfounded; the volcanic mines are unbearably hot and filled with toxic fumes. At least a thousand slaves would have to die to extract enough forging material for a single Valyrian steel weapon. Most importantly, Valyria is now a ruin; many went into the sea of ​​smoke, but few came out alive."

"So you have the technology?" Reed keenly noticed that this guy only mentioned the difficulties with the materials, but seemed very familiar with the process.

Hamchan laughed and said, "If such technology truly existed, I would have already forged the world's strongest armor for you. After all, we share the same fate, my lord. If I possessed Valyrian steel weapons or artifacts, I could reforge them using blood sacrifices and the dragonfire breathed by your dragons. But to ask me to smelt a piece of Valyrian steel from scratch, I'll say it again: I'd rather spend two months in the dungeon as punishment and reflection on my incompetence."

"Kaninas!" Reed shouted. Isn't the role of a merchant to exchange goods and services? This guy once boasted that as long as the money was right, he could get anything that existed in the world.

"No need for such trouble. We have readily available Valyrian steel ingots. Recasting is much simpler. One hundred thousand gold dragons per pound, my lord," the merchant Kaninas McKent replied.

"Make it cheaper!"

"This is already the cheapest option. Considering that this is a lightweight magical metal, it would only take about one to two pounds of material to forge a standard hand-and-a-half sword."

"I want to get another set of armor." Ordinary armor can't withstand Vulcan weapons, only Vulcan armor can.

"That would require more than twenty pounds of material, and frankly, sir, you cannot afford the price right now."

"Kaninas!" Reed affectionately put his arm around the merchant's short, thick neck. "My dear Kaninas!"

"Business is business!" Kaninas struggled, trying to maintain social distancing.

"You should understand that we are all in this together, sharing both prosperity and adversity. If we encounter a similar dangerous situation again, and I'm gone, what will you do? Have you thought about that?"

When did this trend start? Has PUA (Personal Attorney-Making) become standard practice?

Kaninas stopped struggling and sighed helplessly, "I am merely a part of the system's function. The Creator's wonder endowed me with a vibrant personality and the ability to enjoy life. But you can still regard me as a predetermined program of equivalent exchange. I'm sorry, sir, I cannot accomplish anything beyond my capabilities."

Kaninas hesitated for a moment, then added, "Let me give you a suggestion, sir. Against the conventional weapons of ordinary humans, the parchment-thick steel and the normal plate armor-thick steel serve the same purpose. Just coat the outside of the armor with a layer as a temporary measure, and replace it later when conditions allow."

"·····"

Reid pondered for a moment, realizing that Kaninas was right; he indeed couldn't afford a full set of Valyrian steel armor at the moment. But remembering the fear of being pierced by the Faceless One, he gritted his teeth and said fiercely, "Then let's just plate it with one layer first!"

The massive construction project cost money like water, and now Reed has less than 200,000 gold coins left. He needed to keep some money for emergencies, so he ultimately bought two pounds of steel roofing material.

"It's up to you, Ham. Incorporate this in too, a sword and a suit of armor. Print our emblem on it. It needs to be simple and grand, yet understated and luxurious, and it needs to be sturdy. It should look unremarkable at first glance, but become more and more stunning the more you look at it..." Reed tossed the rapier in his hand to Ham and went on and on, making a bunch of nonsensical requests.

Ham felt a chill run down his spine. The limited materials and demanding standards meant this was truly a meticulous job!

He nodded emphatically: "My lord, please rest assured, I will do my utmost!"

……

Meereen, the pyramids of the Graza family.

When Darcy received the report from the servant, Damon had already been flying away on Coraxius for some time.

Why didn't you try to keep him?

"My light, no one dares to stop a dragon king. Last night, he feasted and chatted with the two young masters of the Daznak and Lorac families, as well as the guests, until late into the night. He took advantage of that female slave, but the gifts sent to him remained untouched in the room."

Darcy frowned. He hadn't expected Damon to leave so decisively, much less leave without any room for negotiation. "Did he leave any message?"

The servant shook his head and respectfully replied, "He only told us to tell you that he has important matters to attend to and cannot stay any longer. He didn't say anything else, my lord."

Was it really because of the matter involving those knights from the Uller family that he was angered? Or was Damon not actually interested in helping Meereen, but just came to rest and incidentally find out about the newly appeared dragon king?

But soon a servant from the Great Pyramid interrupted his thoughts: "Our great masters are holding a council this morning and need your presence. They have sent me to inform you of this."

"I will attend on time," Darcy replied dejectedly. As a direct member of the Graza family, he was naturally entitled to attend council meetings.

He waved to the servants carrying his palanquin to turn towards the Great Pyramid, then fell into thought.

Damon's departure deprived Meereen of an opportunity to gain allies, and consequently, an effective means of countering the dragons.

The councilor will not delve into the reasons behind this, because the inappropriate hospitality yesterday was obvious to all, and today's council will certainly be filled with questions and criticisms of him and the Graza family.

Thinking about this, Darcy felt a little heavy-hearted. How could he explain it? How should he deal with it?

Darcy's sedan chair traveled through the dusty streets of Meereen, where construction was taking place everywhere. Overseers mercilessly lashed their whips at the exhausted slaves, determined to squeeze the last drop of labor value from these talking tools before the invasion arrived.

Everywhere there were tunnels, cave entrances, and slaves carrying earth on their shoulders and in their hands. On the advice of the advisors from the Dorneul family, the Great Lords mobilized a large number of slaves to dig tunnels and caves to escape the dragon's flames.

"Uncle Darcy!" A greeting interrupted his thoughts.

Unlike Darcy, who was overweight and preferred to ride in a sedan chair, Sizdala, as one of the few military talents among the younger generation of Meereen, preferred to travel on horseback.

"Sizdala? Aren't you going to the Great Pyramid?" Recently, in order to guard against the impending invasion, the council has been holding frequent meetings, and his nephew, as one of the few military talents among the Meereen nobles, should not be absent.

"I was ordered to meet the Dothraki khao."

"Wasn't Kaiser Pass blocked by that Dragon King? How did they get through?"

Hitzdal rolled her eyes. Darcy, as a relative of theirs, was only good at banquets and sweet talk; everything else about him was simply indescribable.

"What's been cut off is the trade route. The north of Meereen is all wasteland, with no terrain suitable for setting up outposts. Although there's no water, these centaurs can travel anywhere as long as there's grass."

"Is parliament closed?"

"We're not going to open it anymore. There's still no news from the Faceless Ones, so it's probably a failure. Damon also flew away on his dragon this morning. Old Geese refused to send reinforcements. The Dothraki are our last attempt at external aid."

Darcy breathed a sigh of relief. Damon's abrupt departure wasn't the only bad news; it was bad for Meereen, but good for him personally...

At least I don't have to bear all the blame and criticism alone.

"So what does the council plan to do next?" Darcy asked. Although he didn't have to shoulder everything alone, the council's next decisions would still affect his interests.

Hitzdal shrugged, saying helplessly, "What else can we do? Shrink our defenses, reinforce the walls as the Dornish suggested, dig more tunnels and hiding places, and wait for the enemy to arrive. If we can get the Dothraki to join us, we might be able to launch a few cavalry raids along the enemy's marching route."

"Do we really need to go to such lengths? Could that mercenary leader just be bluffing?"

Looking at his uncle, who still clung to hope, Sizdala sighed. "Our scouts risked their lives to gather intelligence; he spotted at least two cavalry legions of a thousand men each in the camp at the Kayser Pass. In addition, the sprawling encampment could hold at least ten thousand infantry. Don't forget he also has a dragon. That man isn't bluffing; he truly has the ability to threaten Meereen."

Darcy's heart sank upon hearing this. These measures were undoubtedly preparing for the worst, but while Meereen was fortified, how long could it withstand the baptism of dragonfire? Darcy beckoned to Sizdala, subtly gesturing for him to come closer. "Let's have a private conversation. Do you think we have a chance of winning this time?"

Hitzdal looked around, then said in a very low voice, "It's very risky. The council has already begun planning the sabotage."

"Well..." Darcy wanted to ask something more, but Sizdala interrupted him.

"Uncle Darcy, I have to go. Time is of the essence, and I must hurry to get involved in welcoming Dothraki Khal.

After saying this, Sizidala turned his horse around, whipped it, and rode away.

Darcy watched Sizdara's departing figure, his heart filled with mixed emotions. The future of Meereen was full of uncertainty, and he himself had to find a way to survive in this storm.

"Giselle!" Darcy called to his butler, whispering in his ear, "Go and prepare a hat with red feathers. The feathers must be large and conspicuous, but do it discreetly and without making a fuss."

······

Outside Meereen.

Sizidala, mounted on his horse, watched as the elders of the Nachian family stepped forward to negotiate with the visiting Khao and his Blood Guards.

He was gesticulating wildly and speaking with great emotion. The translator, a slave, relayed this to the visiting Khao in fluent Dothraki.

"The evil mercenaries once defeated three thousand Dothraki on the Grass Sea, though those cowards in iron armor numbered only six hundred."

"The evil mercenary leader massacred more than 70 unarmed Dothraki women, children and the elderly. Many Mirkwood people witnessed his crimes."

"The evil mercenary leader forbids us from engaging in the slave trade with the great Khao, and forbids us from exchanging necessities such as food, salt, and ironware for the prisoners of your great victory."

"Gold, yours. Beauties, yours. Gifts, yours. Weapons, yours. As long as the great Kao cooperates with Meereen and helps them destroy that evil mercenary leader, our treasury is open to you, take whatever you want."

"Great Khao, you are the sun over the Grass Sea, but beside you, there needs to be a bright moon. A noblewoman from one of our twenty great lord families..."

Watching the elders of the Nachrian family relentlessly incite and bewitch the Dothraki with diplomatic language that was embellished, omitted as appropriate, coerced, and used to drag others into the mess, Sizdala clicked his tongue in slight embarrassment.

"Is it appropriate to not mention that dragon at all?"

"Whose side are you on? Have you thought about the consequences if the Dothraki don't help us?"

"But won't the Dothraki khao see through this?"

"If he sees through us, he'll draw his sword and attack us. That's why you're standing here with your troops."