(Thanks to "I Don't Believe Anyone Would Use This Name 6" for the monthly ticket.)
(Thanks to "The Noble Son of Sorrow" for the donation of 100 Qidian coins.)
King's Landing.
As the sun rose over the sea, warm sunlight shone upon the walled city.
The residents awoke to the sunlight and welcomed a new day.
Fishmonger's Square.
Right beside the harbor of King's Landing, countless ships docked and departed here every day, busily serving the capital's trade.
A merchant ship slowly docked, and a slightly balding man with curly hair stepped gracefully ashore, setting foot on Westerosi soil for the first time in his life.
As the former First Sword of Braavos, Syrio instinctively began surveying his surroundings.
Fishermen hauled all manner of fresh goods through the square, hawking their wares amid a rising and falling clamor much like that of Braavos.
Unlike Braavos, however, public order here seemed excellent, perhaps because King's Landing was the capital of Westeros.
The fishermen's stalls stood in orderly rows, rather than being scattered haphazardly as they were in Braavos, and every twenty paces, a fully armed guard in mail stood watch.
What Syrio did not know was that, had he arrived in King's Landing a few days earlier, he would probably have seen a scene even more chaotic than Braavos.
"Your name, stranger!"
Syrio had barely taken a few steps before a guard carrying a greatsword and wearing a gold cloak blocked his path.
"Syrio Forel, ser."
Narrowing his eyes, Syrio reached behind his waist for two silver coins and extended them on his open palm, calmly giving his name.
"I come from Braavos."
Even as far away as Braavos, Syrio had heard of the rules followed by the Gold Cloaks of King's Landing.
With the merchant captain's warnings throughout the voyage as well, he did not want trouble the moment he stepped ashore, so he followed the local custom and took out some money to send the man on his way.
To Syrio's surprise, however, this Gold Cloak seemed uninterested in the silver coins in his hand.
"Put away your paltry bribe, Syrio Forel of Braavos!"
Jero frowned as he surveyed the short man before him, glanced disdainfully at the coins in his hand, and barked:
"You've miscalculated. We Gold Cloaks don't take bribes from anyone."
What a joke. Arthas had only just issued orders within the Gold Cloaks, letting bygones be bygones and doubling everyone's pay.
Moreover, he had repeatedly warned them that anyone caught taking bribes, perverting the law, or extorting the common people from then on would have a hand chopped off!
He really meant chopping off hands!
Over the past two days, Arthas had personally severed four of their comrades' right hands before everyone's eyes!
Never mind Jero, who came from House Lannister-even an ordinary Gold Cloak would hardly dare openly accept a bribe at such a sensitive time.
Especially a paltry two silver coins.
Jero's rebuke drew the attention of the surrounding fishermen, who applauded and cheered his righteous conduct.
They had all witnessed the changes in the Gold Cloaks over the past few days.
These people at the bottom of society, long accustomed to oppression and extortion, were all profoundly grateful for Arthas's wisdom.
A trace of amusement flashed through Jero's eyes as he watched Syrio, who seemed rather at a loss under everyone's gaze.
Still remembering his duties, he cleared his throat twice and pointed at the sword at Syrio's waist.
"Judging by your appearance, you're a swordsman, correct?"
"Indeed, my lord."
Resting his right hand on his sword hilt, Syrio straightened his back and replied with elegance and pride:
"I am a Water Dancer from Braavos!"
"What sort of dancer you are is none of my concern, Syrio."
Jero drew his neck in. For some reason, the moment this short man gripped his sword hilt, he actually sensed a hint of danger.
Shaking his head and folding his arms across his chest, Jero reminded him:
"Since you're a swordsman, report to City Watch headquarters as soon as you enter the city."
"Lord Arthas has ordered everyone in King's Landing carrying a weapon longer than ten inches (25 centimeters) to register their name and the weapon's identifying features."
Turning away, seemingly unwilling to stand in front of Syrio any longer, Jero warned him as he walked:
"Let me remind you of something, Water Dancer."
"Don't even think about causing trouble in King's Landing."
"We in the City Watch will be watching your every move."
As Jero's figure disappeared, Syrio frowned, stroked his sword hilt, and muttered:
"Arthas? A strange fellow with strange rules."
"Lord Renly, what brings our Master of Laws here so early in the morning?"
At Gold Cloak headquarters, the diligent Arthas arrived early at his office to handle official business. To his surprise, Renly seemed to have been waiting there for quite some time.
Taking out his key and unlocking the office door, Arthas exchanged pleasantries with Renly as they took their seats.
"Arthas, I think you ought to rein yourself in."
With no intention of beating around the bush, Renly got straight to the point:
"Robert has written, asking you to rescind your judgment against Janos and return all the property seized from his home."
"As you know, most of those Gold Dragons belong to the king."
"And..."
Pausing, Renly looked at Arthas, whose expression remained calm, as though he had not heard a word, and raised his voice slightly:
"In his letter, Robert appointed me acting Hand of the King and ordered you to stop the purge of King's Landing immediately."
Though he found it somewhat difficult to say, Renly still dutifully reminded him:
"Your actions these past few days have indeed overstepped your authority."
"Oh, my dear Lord Renly."
Tapping his knuckles lightly against the desk, Arthas looked at him with apparent disappointment.
"I thought you, like me, kept the people of King's Landing in your heart."
"I never expected you to say such things."
At Arthas's disappointed tone, Renly hurriedly rose to explain:
"It's not like that, Arthas."
He clenched his fists tightly, seeming somewhat agitated, his gaze flickering slightly.
"I personally support your righteous actions wholeheartedly."
"But Robert made it very clear in his letter that you must stop what you've been doing at once."
"He even granted me the authority to dismiss you at any time!"
As soon as the words left his mouth, Renly saw Arthas staring intently at him and knew he had misspoken. Sheepishly lowering his raised right hand, he sat back down.
"I never imagined Robert would issue such an order."
Arthas laughed scornfully to himself. He knew perfectly well that the Spider must have reported him to the king.
Shaking his head, he stood, walked over to Renly, and demanded loudly:
"Haven't you seen how King's Landing has changed these past few days, my lord 'Hand of the King'?"
His expression was solemn, as though he were undertaking a revolution of far-reaching significance.
"Ever since I arrived in King's Landing, I've been shocked by the people's vacant expressions and dull, lifeless eyes."
"That was the bewilderment of people who had lost faith in life!"
"Murder and violence were everywhere. Rape, robbery, and human trafficking were commonplace, especially in the slums!"
"Forgive my bluntness, but even the Iron Islands probably have better public order than King's Landing!"
"These things should never be happening in the most sacred capital of the Seven Kingdoms!"
Growing increasingly agitated as he spoke, Arthas turned and slammed his palm against the desk, making Renly jump.
Taking several deep breaths, seemingly calming his anger somewhat, Arthas spoke earnestly once more:
"I'm not trying to be a great man, Renly."
"I'm only a boy of fourteen."
"But for every day I serve as Commander of the City Watch, I must answer to the people of King's Landing."
"Though my efforts may earn me nothing in return."
"When I see the heartfelt smiles on their faces, I know my perseverance is worth it!"
His heartfelt words rang out with conviction, and Arthas sincerely extended his right hand to Renly.
"Renly Baratheon."
Sunlight streamed through the window onto his face, his golden hair reflecting a dazzling glow. Like the Father descended to earth, he looked so sacred.
"No one can stop me from achieving this goal."
"Let us join hands and make King's Landing great again!"
"Arthas..."
With tears in his eyes, Renly looked at the boy before him, who devoted himself selflessly to the kingdom, and actually felt a twinge of guilt for having doubted the motives behind his earlier actions.
He extended his trembling right hand, clasped Arthas's firmly, and answered resolutely:
"Yes, let's work together to make King's Landing great again!"
Seemingly deeply moved, Arthas squeezed Renly's hand hard, then hastily released it.
This fellow's tastes were widely known among the nobles of King's Landing.
Slowly settling into his chair, Arthas could not help reflecting.
Renly was far easier to fool than that cunning Blackfish. He had taken the bait again without any need for magic.
Arthas felt no embarrassment whatsoever about deceiving this brainless fellow.
His methods might not be particularly clever, but at least his intentions were good, and the people of King's Landing needed a ruler like him.
In a little while, I won't need to go to all this trouble.
Narrowing his eyes and resting his head against the back of his chair, Arthas watched Renly, who had been talked into utter confusion, and began turning his plans over in his mind.
Once he had won the hearts of King's Landing and had the Lannister squad leaders bring the Gold Cloaks completely under his control, his position as Commander would be as solid as a mountain.
It would not be so easy for Robert to dismiss him then.
And besides... Arthas turned his gaze westward.
That old fellow Tywin was surely making preparations too. He would not let this heaven-sent opportunity to control King's Landing slip away.
As the two sat occupied with their own thoughts, a clamor came from outside. Some sort of dispute seemed to have broken out.
"Lord Arthas!"
Just as Arthas was beginning to feel displeased, Lancel hurriedly pushed open the office door.
"A Braavosi swordsman has come, shouting demands to challenge you!"
"What use are you lot!"
Frowning, Arthas rebuked him without the slightest consideration for his dignity:
"Just throw him out."
Ever since he had earned his reputation as the foremost knight in the Seven Kingdoms, if a hundred knights had not come to challenge him over the past few days, then at least eighty had.
They were all fellows with little real skill who dreamed of overnight fame, and Arthas was thoroughly sick of them.
"We can't, Lord Arthas."
Lancel turned his face to one side, and only then did the two notice the clear mark left by the flat of a sword.
He explained in a tearful voice:
"That swordsman's too good. Even Gendry was easily beaten!"
"What?"
(PS: House of the Dragon is so good. Victory to the Blacks!)
Before you continue