When Suleiman said I also want to be the master of Riverlands, the air in the room seemed to solidify into a piece of ice.
Maron. Greyjoy stared at him blankly, the muscles on his face twitched a few times.
After a moment, an unsuppressible voice squeezed out of his throat. "Ha...
... ahem...
In the end, he couldn't help but laugh. It was not a mockery or a sneer, but a kind of laughter from the bottom of his heart, caused by the absurdity of the matter, just like a person who was about to drown, and suddenly discovered that the giant hand holding him down was actually just a prank.
Master of Riverlands, you, who the hell are you? A guy who can't even find a surname in the Westeros noble directory dares to covet the position of House Tully. Who are your ancestors?
This thought flashed through Maron. Greyjoy's mind. He suddenly felt that the devil in front of him, who had no plans, was suddenly no longer so scary. He had revealed his own flaw, and he was a peer with unrealistic ambitions and fantasies like him.
This feeling instantly relaxed Maron. Greyjoy's tense nerves. The previous suffocating fear and pressure disappeared at this moment.
For the first time, he dared to speak to Suleiman in a relaxed tone, even with a sense of superiority over his own surname. "Sir? You? Become the master of Riverlands?"
Maron. Greyjoy shook his head, with an exhortative sincerity in his tone.
"Sir, I don't mean to offend, but your surname and your bloodline determine that you will never be the master of Riverlands."
He pointed at himself, and his chest involuntarily puffed up a little.
"My last name is Greyjoy. Even when I am at my lowest, this last name can win me supporters."
He spread his hands and looked at Suleiman, as if he was stating a truth.
"And you... no one will support a humble surname and bloodline. In Westeros, everyone's fate has been decided from the moment they are born."
Suleiman didn't refute, and there wasn't even the slightest sign of anger on his face. He just looked at Maron. Greyjoy calmly. Looking at this young man who had just broken free from despair, he immediately tried to use the only rules he knew to define the world.
Then, he calmly said something that in Maron. Greyjoy's opinion was correct but stupid. "Fate is an excuse for the weak."
Then, Suleiman stretched out his hand to Maron. Greyjoy. There was no explanation or any force for this action, it just stopped between the two of them naturally.
Maron. Greyjoy was stunned. He didn't know what he was thinking. Perhaps he was shocked by these wild words, or perhaps he was infected by the other party's calm and arrogant self-confidence. He unexpectedly stretched out his hand and shook it with Suleiman.
When the two people walked out of the room one after another, Rosso and Bryn, who were waiting at the door, noticed something strange. The despair and lifelessness on Maron and Greyjoy seemed to dissipate, replaced by a complex emotion of confusion, thinking and some kind of secret excitement.
What exactly did the adults talk about with him, but before they could speculate, Suleiman had already issued an order, "Bryn, go and prepare the best horse for our distinguished friend Greyjoy."
Ready to ride? Rosso and Bryn were stunned on the spot.
Maron. Greyjoy also looked at Suleiman in shock, almost blurting out. "Aren't you afraid that I will run away?"
Suleiman turned his head and looked at him, with pure confidence in his eyes. "I said, you are my friend, Riverlands's ally, and Seven Kingdoms's hero. No one will stop you here."'
He made a gesture of invitation.
"I will not hinder you, Lord Greyjoy.
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Maron. Greyjoy was completely confused. He subconsciously took a step back, as if to prove his freedom with action. "I...
... I'm really leaving!"
Suleiman waved his hand casually. "Whatever, go back to Pyke now. Depending on your father's "love" for you, maybe with an explanation, Iron Islands can still have space for you."
He paused, and his tone became soft, like a devil's whisper, full of bewitchment. His voice was not loud, but it penetrated Maron's ears clearly. "Greyjoy, I never force my friends and subordinates to do things they don't want to do."
"I just... satisfy people's deepest ambitions and desires."
After saying that, Suleiman stopped looking at him, turned around, and walked towards the Lord's Hall.
Rosso quickly followed up in shock, whispering urgently in his ear in a voice that only the two of them could hear, "Sir? Really..."
... Really let him go?"
This is crazy, Greyjoy is their most valuable trophy.
On Suleiman's face, there was the kind of confidence that Rosso had seen countless times, the confidence to control everything.
He calmly asserted. "He won't leave."
Suleiman knows that Greyjoy will not leave. If he returns to Iron Islands, even if he will not be punished, he will lose everything. By staying, he can seize the opportunity that seems crazy, but can completely overturn his destiny.
Every Ironborn is filled with ambition and desire in his heart. The answer is self-evident as to how he would choose. What he is best at is using ambition and desire to manipulate and exploit and squeeze out value. A Warden of the Iron Islands who is willing to cooperate can undoubtedly maximize the value he squeezes.
House Grell Lord's Hall Commanders at all levels have gathered together in a solemn atmosphere.
Under the shocked gaze of the pale-faced Damon. Grell, Suleiman sat directly on the main seat and said, "Sir Damon, for the future of Riverlands, I need all your knights to join my team and obey my command."
Damon. Grell's lips moved, with reluctance written all over his face. Leave it to you, who will protect me and go to the Westerlands...
Suleiman seemed to have read through his mind and immediately offered a bait that he could not refuse, "In exchange, my troops will personally escort you and your family to the Westerlands border safely."
Damon. Grell's eyes lit up instantly. He was worthy of being escorted by two hundred knights as a knight, and his safety was undoubtedly guaranteed to the greatest extent.
He immediately agreed, "Of course! Of course! I am willing to give everything for Riverlands! House Grell!"
Raymun. Darry on the side frowned. He felt very strange. "Suleiman, shall we go to the Westerlands?"
A mysterious smile appeared on Suleiman's face, and he said slowly, "No, Master Raymun."
"We're going to have another big scene."
"Then, we want to make the Ironborns think that we have left Riverlands and gone to the Westerlands."
Raymun. Darry was even more confused. "What do you mean?"
Suleiman walked to the huge military map in the center of the hall. Everyone's eyes followed him. His finger pointed on the map. "Ironborn is shrinking its troops. The troops under Luanhe City are approaching. Half of the army that invaded Ironborn, five thousand to six thousand people, after lifting the siege, in order to consolidate their forces, will choose to go south and join Ironborn under Riverrun."
His fingers traced across the map, and everyone held their breath.
"And what we have to do is to make a big fuss in West Riverlands again, make the biggest noise, and then enter the Westerlands under the attention of Ironborn."
"Let them think we have escaped into the Westerlands!"
His finger paused suddenly on the map, then drew a route.
"Then! Our true purpose is!"
"March secretly and return East Riverlands!!"
"At that time! The East Riverlands coalition led by Lord Lymond. Lychester will block the Ironborn army heading south at the entrance of Trident!"
"And we! When the battle is in full swing! We will be like ghosts! Suddenly appear behind Ironborn! Annihilate this Ironborn army!"
He raised his head and looked around at everyone.
"Ironborn will have to retreat to the sea! We will declare this war once and for all! Victory!!!"
The whole hall was deathly silent. Everyone was shocked by this crazy plan and pie. They will defeat Ironborn with the efforts of Riverlands people.
After a long time, Raymun. Darry pointed out the most fatal flaw in this plan. The plan was perfect, but...
His voice was trembling with excitement. "Suleiman, this plan sounds perfect, but its success is based on an almost impossible premise!
"We must avoid everyone on the way back and cannot be noticed by anyone. We have hundreds of cavalry and such a big target. It is impossible to travel through the open Riverlands!"
Everyone's eyes are focused on Suleiman, waiting for his explanation. This is an unavoidable problem and the limit of rationality.
However, Suleiman did not make any unnecessary explanations. He just turned around, looked at all the dazed, confused and even slightly flinched eyes present with his calm eyes, and answered with an absolutely confident tone, "I can do it."
A few simple words, but they contained unparalleled absolute confidence. The doubts in the hearts of the knights in the hall were instantly replaced by an almost blind trust.
They don't know how Suleiman can do it, but they believe that if it were him, he would be able to do it.
Because, he is Suleiman.