Baelon The whole person is shrouded in the shadow of the dragon.
At this time, his brows were furrowed and there was no trace of happiness on his face.
If he didn't care about Barren·Greyjoy, nothing mattered at this moment.
He was very hesitant.
Very hesitant.
When the Ironborns surrendered to him and called his name, a thought suddenly flashed through Baelon's mind.
An idea that could influence the course of world history.
He can easily obtain the Iron Throne charter. He has completed nine great voyages and mastered the waterway Lord of the Tides Corlys·Velaryon.
Now, the last piece of the puzzle is complete.
A group of Ironborn who were proud of their plunder came under his command.
What does it put together?
A maritime armed merchant group chartered by the royal family, conquering and plundering in the name of trade--East India Company.
Can a fleet at sea stop him?
No.
Iron Throne is eyeing Stepstones and is very likely to defeat Kingdom of the Three Daughters's navy.
When Valerian's fleet combines with Iron Islands's longships, Seven Kingdoms's fleet will have no rival.
Sea supremacy, invincible fleet, chartered plunder.
Baelon Take a deep breath.
With a steady stream of benefits rolling in, Westeros will become the heaven on earth that the world longs for through the accumulation of violence.
And Ironborn will be completely under his command.
His the Conqueror road will be smoother.
He will bring Westeros a prosperous age that will last forever and become the greatest king.
But.
There's just one problem.
His heart tugged violently, and a golden scale seemed to appear in front of his eyes.
On one side is the huge benefit that is visible to the naked eye, and on the other side is his weak and unobservable conscience.
Does he really want to do this?
Baelon leaned on the dragon's back, and Vermithor let out a roar.
He created a notorious troublemaker and single-handedly promoted colonization?!
But.
Westeros is a brand new country!
And even if he didn't do it, wouldn't anyone else do it?!
To give up the benefits that are available to the naked eye for the sake of untimely conscience?
Baelon Close your eyes and let out a breath.
Heavenly Father puts down the weight of destiny at both ends of the scale and lifts the middle end of the golden scale.
The excess conscience weighed down the scale, and it fell towards the Fertile mud, sinking into the mud, while the other end rose high into the vast sky.
He opened his eyes.
The bright moon hangs high in the sky.
Ironborn scrambled wildly on the beach, the sand rolled, gold and silver flew everywhere, and blood splashed everywhere.
Like a bunch of wild beasts.
Baelon suddenly curled up the corners of his mouth and smiled softly.
He patted Vermithor's warm skin, and his chuckle turned into a hearty laugh.
He is Baelon·Targaryen.
There is no benefit in this world that can match his pleasure.
No wealth can buy his will.
Everything in the world was created to please his mind.
Couldn't he have conquered the world's lands without that company?
He can.
Baelon Looking at the full moon hanging high in the sky, the clear light shines equally on everyone.
If he didn't even have this little self-confidence, what else would he do the Conqueror?!
He suddenly remembered an argument.
History has its own trajectory, and mortals can only go with the flow.
Then history would have developed like this. Is he making unnecessary resistance?
Baelon doesn't believe it.
The dragon has not yet nodded, how dare the wheel of the times roll forward alone.
Before his body is burned in Dragonfire, even history must move forward according to his will.
Barren·Greyjoy waited for a while, and then saw Baelon turning his head, his eyes shining strangely.
"You reminded me, my friend."
"Should I go to Pyke?" Baelon asked slowly, "Should I go to see Baron Greyjoy?"
He is good at history, and even Mellos Grand Maester once praised his memory.
So he clearly remembered, "House Greyjoy was not born to be the leader of Ironborn."
Several centuries ago, House Hoare was the king who ruled Ironborn.
Until Harrenhal overnight, "The Conqueror" Aegon's Balerion under the crotch burned all the direct descendants of House Hoare.
After calming down the chaos of Iron Islands, many people suggested that Ironborn be made a subordinate of House Tully and House Lannister, or that Ironborn be handed over to the jurisdiction of Winterfell.
Baelon's eyes slowly turned, "But after Aegon listened to all the suggestions, he generously allowed Ironborn to choose his own ruler."
"Thus, the ancestor of House Greyjoy, the leader of the predators of Pyke, Vickon·Greyjoy was elected, and Vickon·Greyjoy swore allegiance to the Dragon King."
"The Dragon King then left with his fleet."
"Aegon is so tolerant, how do you repay him?"
Barren·Greyjoy was about to speak, but Baelon raised his hand to stop the rest of his words.
He didn't want to listen to that nonsense.
"Ironborn chose House Greyjoy to become the master of Iron Islands, right?" he asked.
Barren·Greyjoy's brows were locked together, and a bad premonition emerged in his heart.
Baelon discovered that he had made a mistake.
At the beginning, he planned to go to Pyke, have a conversation with Baron Greyjoy, intimidate, exchange interests, and obtain the fleet of Iron Islands and the short-term allegiance of Ironborn.
Conquer Baron·Greyjoy and use Ironborn.
But he needs to be on guard against House Greyjoy's rebellion, both in disguise and in disguise.
Because of Ironborn's fickleness and betrayal.
But now, his thinking is particularly broad, and the blood belonging to the Conqueror is boiling in his body.
Why can't he just skip House Greyjoy, skip Pyke, and become the leader of Ironborn?
Even if Ironborn betrays him later, there will be no House Greyjoy in the middle to make the difference.
Baelon laughed.
Barren·Greyjoy heard a chuckle.
Baelon's voice drifted into his ears along with the sea breeze, "I shouldn't go to Pyke, I should go to Old Wyk."
Barren·Greyjoy was shocked, "You... what do you want to do?!"
"Ironborn has the right to choose his own leader." Baelon smiled, "This is the tolerance of "the Conqueror" Aegon."
He stepped out of the shadows, laughed and clapped his hands, "Everyone, everyone!"
"You are lucky enough to serve a true King of Ironborn!"
Ironborn all looked at their new captain and new king.
Baelon said loudly, "Let me lead you to a real Old Way!"
"Not a petty robbery."
"Everyone Ironborn, let us row our oars, go to Old Wyk, and gather under Nagga's Bones..."
Baelon swept over the crowd who had calmed down and stared at him, and said with a smile, "Restart Kingsmoot!"
All Ironborn were shocked and their blood exploded.
Ironborn was stiff and in disbelief.
Kingsmoot?!
Kingsmoot has not been held for centuries and only exists in songs and legends!
Even though countless Ironborn long for Old Way in their hearts, they only dare to take advantage of Seven Kingdoms's decline to quietly plunder the coastline.
No one has ever dared to have this idea and touch the supreme glory of Ironborn.
All Ironborn thought that tonight's carnival was exciting enough and worth remembering for the rest of their lives, but they didn't expect that there was something even more exciting.
"Go and inform all Ironborn, summon all the longship captains!" Baelon said with a magnanimous laugh.
The earth-shaking cheers overwhelmed the roar of Ironborn Bay.
"Kingsmoot! Kingsmoot!"
"Baelon!"
"Dragon Sea Lord!"
"Ironborn new king!"
Dalton·Greyjoy stared blankly at the prince surrounded by Ironborn, the blood all over his body seemed to be burning.
He grew up listening to the story of Old Way, longing for the glory and power of Ironborn in the past.
But at this moment, the ancient glory of Ironborn has arrived.
His eyes gradually brightened, and he began to struggle and squirm desperately.
No no no!
He must not miss this event!
Barren·Greyjoy's teeth chattered and his face turned pale, "No, no, no!"
"You are not Ironborn, how can you convene Kingsmoot!"
Baelon asked Ironborn, "Am I not qualified?"
Ironborn rushed to answer on his behalf.
"No!"
"No one is more qualified than the captain of Dragon Ship hahaha."
"Ironborn never looks at bloodline, go to hell Greyjoy!"
Barren·Greyjoy immediately said, "Kingsmoot has not been held for centuries!"
Baelon couldn't help laughing. He tilted his head and asked curiously, "Then why don't you Ironborn hold a Kingsmoot meeting?"
"Don't you want to?"
Barren·Greyjoy The blood is cool.
Because of the rule of House Hoare, because of "the Conqueror" Aegon, because of "Balerion the Black Dread" Balerion.
Baelon smiled and shook his head, Ironborn's ceremony? Old Way?
Oh, once I could change it easily under the power and dragon, why not today.
Isn't it that Ironborn is not qualified?
It's so funny, "The Conqueror"Aegon allows Ironborn to elect the leader, isn't it just Kingsmoot.
Vermithor is not inferior to Balerion the Black Dread.
His Inventory's Super-tier Magic is not inferior to the magic that breaks Dorne's arm.
Now, he holds Kingsmoot again, just skipping the middleman.
Barren·Greyjoy's eyes were spinning around, Kingsmoot denied House Greyjoy's rule of law, Iron Throne would not let it go, they would send troops...
No, no, no, no!
Barren·Greyjoy's voice seemed to be squeezed out from between the teeth, "Ironborn will not choose an outsider from Greenlands to become the king."
At this moment, he found that the only things he could hold tightly were the laws of Greenlands, those weak thoughts that he spurned.
He gritted his teeth bitterly, "You are Prince of Dragonstone, how could you do this!"
"House Greyjoy has no rebellion, but you deprive us of our rule for no reason. What will Seven Kingdoms's nobles think of you?!"