Blackfyre's Restoration Treasure (Part 2)

Fifteen years after the failure of the First Blackfyre Rebellion, in 211 on Aegon's calendar, Count Ambrose Butterwell, lord of White Wall City, held a grand tournament there. The prize for the champion was a dragon egg. This dragon egg had been a gift—or rather, compensation—from Aegon IV the Unworthy, who had once visited White Wall City and slept with all three daughters of its then-count in a single night.

On the surface, the tournament was held to celebrate the marriage alliance between Count Ambrose Butterwell of White Wall City and House Frey of the Twins. In truth, it was a conspiracy jointly planned by the Count of White Wall City and other Blackfyre supporters.

They gathered the defeated remnants of the First Blackfyre Rebellion, along with others dissatisfied with the oppressive rule of Brynden Rivers, Blood Raven, the Hand of the King at the time, and had Daemon II, son of Daemon I, enter the tournament under a false identity.

They intended to rig the tournament so Daemon Blackfyre II would win the championship, then reveal his identity during the event and use the opportunity to launch the Second Blackfyre Rebellion.

In the end, Daemon Blackfyre II was not only nowhere near as formidable as his father, who had been called the "Warrior incarnate," but an utter disappointment. He could not even win a fixed match and became the laughingstock of the nobility.

On top of that, Blood Raven, the Hand of the King, had somehow received word of the plot and arrived at White Wall City with a large army before the tournament had even ended.

Unable to win the nobles' support, the useless Daemon II had no choice but to leave the city alone and demand a duel with Blood Raven. But Blood Raven had no sense of chivalry and simply ordered his men to arrest him.

Thus, the Second Blackfyre Rebellion was suppressed like a farce.

White Wall City was then completely demolished on Blood Raven's orders, and salt was scattered across the land where it had stood.

The site of White Wall City was now nothing but ruins. While people naturally thought of the Blackfyre Rebellion whenever White Wall City was mentioned, it was utterly absurd to assume that a band of brigands had ties to the rebellion merely because they operated among its ruins.

"I don't know," Denzel said, shaking his head. "When I was hired for the bandit-suppression mission, I wasn't invited into the castle. Perhaps Ser Glason knows more." As he spoke, Denzel looked at Gransen beside him.

Seeing that Ian was looking at him as well, Gransen reluctantly began to explain. "Actually, the first person to discover that this bandit gang was connected to Blackfyre was Ser Veld Grey, leader of the local Knight Alliance. During a clash with one of the Ghost Thieves' knights, he slashed open the man's cloak and saw the Blackfyre rebel sigil on his breastplate."

"A Black Dragon on a Red Field?" Ian asked.

"Yes, a Black Dragon on a Red Field." Gransen nodded. "Quite a few of us questioned him at the time and asked whether he might have seen it wrong, but Ser Veld swore on his honor that it was the sigil of a Black Dragon on a Red Field."

"As for Blackfyre's Restoration Treasure," Gransen continued, "I don't know the specifics. But since both Ser Veld and Boss Morgan are looking for it, they must know something. You can ask Boss Morgan yourself later."

"Uh..." Ian froze for a moment, then gave an awkward laugh. What am I doing?

He had come to the Crossroads Inn to hunt players! With his current strength, he was nowhere near capable of getting involved in the struggle over some Blackfyre treasure.

If he showed an interest in the Blackfyre treasure, he might even draw the hostility of Black Falcon and the others. If that happened, even his plan to cast a net here and hunt players would go down the drain.

"No need. I have no interest in any Blackfyre treasure." Ian shook his head. "I came here for something else."

Hearing Ian's words, Denzel could not help looking disappointed. He had seen this generous knight from House Lannister take an interest in the matter and had originally thought he might be able to get involved again and claim a share of the spoils. Who would have thought Ser Lucian had merely been asking questions?

After a brief silence, Denzel suddenly asked, "By the way, do you hear that?"

Ian listened closely and discovered that loud, chaotic shouting was indeed coming from downstairs, mixed with the sounds of impacts.

"Who wants to go down and see what's happening?" Ian asked. He had no intention of going down to join the excitement himself. If it turned out to be a gang brawl, getting dragged into it would be troublesome.

Just then, Jannie shoved open the door to Ian's room and ran inside, pale-faced. She immediately turned around and locked the door again.

"What happened?"

"Oh, my lord, I... he... you told me..."

"Calm down, my friend. Calm down." Ian gestured for Roar to hand her a cup of wine.

Jannie took the cup and drained it in one gulp without a shred of decorum, then broke into a violent coughing fit after choking on it.

"Slow down. You're safe here. Now tell me what happened downstairs."

"Morgan... cough, cough, cough... Boss Morgan is dead! His men said they're going to tear down our inn!"

"Black Falcon is dead?" Ian was stunned. A perfectly fine mercenary leader—I was just about to look for him, and he suddenly died for no reason? What, am I possessed by some elementary-school Death God?

"Who did it?" Gransen no longer cared about keeping up the manner of a subordinate and hurriedly cut in. Seemingly realizing his lapse, he added, "I'm worried one of my men got drunk and did something foolish."

"No, I don't know." Jannie shook her head, trembling all over. "I don't know."

"My apologies, Ser, but I must go downstairs and see what's going on." Unable to get anything useful out of Jannie, Gransen could only urgently ask Ian for permission.

"I need to go down too," Denzel echoed.

"Go. Try not to start a conflict." Irritation rose in Ian's heart as he waved them away.

If the Death of the Black Falcon truly sparked a massive brawl here, it would undoubtedly ruin his arrangements for hunting players.

After the two mercenaries left, Ian had Roar lock the door again before turning back to Jannie.

"Calm down. Calm down a little. No one can hurt you here." Ian placed his hands on Jannie's shoulders. "If you can't form complete sentences, then I'll ask questions and you answer. You only need to say yes or no."

Jannie hurriedly nodded.

"Did you personally see Black Falcon die?"

"Yes."

"Did you see the killer?"

"No."

"Where did Black Falcon die? No..." Ian immediately shook his head, realizing that question could not be answered with a simple yes or no.

"My apologies, Ser. I'm much better now." A faint smile appeared on Jannie's pale face. "I can answer your questions. Boss Morgan died... died in that Gra... Gra-whatever-his-name-was's room. He died in the room of that knight whose sigil was a Yellow Tower."

"???"

Hearing Jannie's answer, Roar inexplicably thought of what Ian had said to Martha earlier: "What, did the two of them sleep together?"

Worthy of being a god's incarnation—his power of prophecy was terrifying indeed!