Year 297 After Aegon’s Conquest.
Pentos.
The air became distorted under the roasting heat waves, and walking on the streets, one could even faintly smell a scorched odor.
The vicious sunlight shone on the body, feeling like venomous bugs stinging and biting.
Pentos had no slaves, but almost everyone at the bottom was burdened with heavy debts; to pay off their debts, they needed to work even harder than slaves.
They were not the employers’ property, and the employers would not pity them in the least, only thinking about how to squeeze out their very last shred of flesh and blood.
From mills to farms, from the shacks of the slums to the prince’s palace, the sun’s heat equally roasted every inch of land, stopping only at night.
The stray dogs by the roadside still knew to lie in the shade and pant to cool off, but those commoners driven by the debts of the magisters had to toil under the scorching sun—trackers pulling boats, dock porters, from time to time someone would collapse due to physical exhaustion.
Their emaciated bodies were covered in dust, foaming at the mouth, and many people would never get up again.
“Shamira, do you think the world is supposed to be like this?” On the deck, a handsome silver-haired youth said with a face full of compassion.
“Young Master, touch lighter, my dress is all snagged.”
The enchanting blue-eyed maid pushed away the young man’s hand, smoothing down her stunningly curved hips with some distress; this silk-textured dress with lace sleeves was her favorite piece.
It even had hidden lily patterns on it, and such material could only be made by the Myr people famous for their handicrafts.
“In another two years autumn will come, and by then silk will become as cheap as paper,” the youth moved his hand away and said indifferently, rubbing his nose along the way.
But it was very obvious that the maid didn’t believe a word of it; this young master spent money like water, and even now, silk and paper probably didn’t make much difference in his eyes.
Besides, a few years ago someone swore that summer was about to pass, and what was the result?
Wasn’t it still hot as hell?
If this uneducated young master could predict seasonal changes, then the legendary dragons could all be resurrected.
“Where did the old man go?
Why isn’t he here yet?”
“Master?
Master went to the old estate.”
“Went to see Young Griff again?”
“Mhm.” The maid paused.
“Young Master…
Do you think Master might intend to hand over the family property and the magister’s seat to…”
“How dare he!
I’ll beat him to death!”
The maid was already used to this young master’s bold and fierce words, shrank her neck, and looked away.
She had followed this young master for a long time; although the possibility of her worry was very small, the master in her mouth, this young master’s father Illyrio, showed far too much affection for ‘Young Griff’, as if that person were his biological son instead.
In fact, Shamira guessed right—Young Griff really was Illyrio’s biological son, of which Aegon was extremely certain.
He lied that his true son ‘Young Griff’ was the posthumous orphan left behind by Crown Prince Rhaegar, trying to let his own bloodline ascend the Iron Throne.
Illyrio was the fat merchant in Game of Thrones who brokered matches for Dragon Brother Two Viserys and Khal Drogo, and presented three fossilized dragon eggs to Dragon Mother Daenerys as a wedding gift.
The purpose was to shift the disaster eastward, letting the Dothraki go fight Westeros, and then his own son Young Griff would pick up the spoils in the back.
‘Khal’ was the leader of the Dothraki.
Similar to the ‘Great Khan’ or ‘Khagan’ of those nomadic peoples in Aegon’s impression.
Now the most powerful ‘Khal’ of the Dothraki was named Drogo, and his subordinates were said to include forty thousand screaming warriors; Game of Thrones readers called him the ‘Horse Lord’.
As the most powerful Khal, the Horse Lord possessed considerable appeal; if other Khals’ troops were added, perhaps they really could gather an army of sixty to seventy thousand to attack Westeros.
An army of sixty to seventy thousand, and even a cavalry-dominated army at that, was enough to make any faction in this world shudder in terror.
At that time, coupled with Westeros’s ‘Dorne’ and ‘The Reach’, the possibility of the Targaryen restoration was extremely high.
The reason Aegon knew this was because he had transmigrated into this world in the womb; after waking up from a drunken stupor once, he awakened his past-life memories and realized he had come to the world of A Song of Ice and Fire.
Not only his past-life memories, but also his very early childhood memories from when he was in this world.
He remembered living in a red castle when he was young, but didn’t know how he came to a foreign land.
This led him to deduce that his true identity was the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell, the heir to the Iron Throne, [Aegon Targaryen].
But Aegon was very puzzled.
After the Battle of the Ruby Ford, Rhaegar died under Robert’s great hammer, and the Targaryens were doomed.
Subsequently, Lord of the Westerlands Tywin Lannister led a large army to trick open the gates of King’s Landing, and had his subordinate ‘The Mountain’ massacre the royal family members.
Rhaegar’s wife and children all died under the swords and spears of the western Lannisters, and the only ones who escaped and lived to the present were Dragon Mother Daenerys and Beggar King Viserys.
How did he, who was only two-plus years old at the time, manage to escape?
Thinking over and over, only one person had the ability to send him out of King’s Landing and to the Free Cities—the spymaster of ‘Mad King’ Aerys II, ‘The Spider’ Varys.
Only he knew all the secret passages of King’s Landing; after all, in the original work, he relied on the secret passages to help ‘The Imp’ Tyrion escape from King’s Landing.
Leaving aside why Varys, who never looked like a good person all along, wanted to save him—this ‘remnant of the old dynasty’—even if he saved him and handed him over to Illyrio, why didn’t Illyrio, who always wanted ‘Young Griff’ to replace Aegon, kill him?
What on earth happened in between?
But not only did he not kill him, he also showed considerable favor and even doting affection toward him.
Whatever he wanted to eat, he ate; whatever he wanted to play, he played.
Learning and practicing martial arts was too hard, so he didn’t practice.
Not only that, when he was twelve or thirteen years old, he placed the sixteen-year-old Shamira by his side.
In between, he spent about a year in days where the little head controlled the big head; a youth was greedy for lust, which made Aegon almost unable to extricate himself.
Illyrio didn’t have the slightest intention of advising him otherwise, going almost with the goal of raising Aegon into a waste.
Fortunately, his past-life memories awakened, making him realize that if he continued like this, his body would only be even more damaged.
After that, he exercised much more restraint, and at the same time began practicing martial arts to make up for the body’s depletion, which was why there were calluses on his hands.
‘Could it be that Illyrio wants to let me die of comfort?
He’s actually quite a nice guy.’
At this moment, a series of muffled ‘thud thud’ sounds rang out behind the master and servant Aegon.
A bulky, stout man whose skin was close to bronze, height close to one meter eighty-five, and weight exceeding two hundred jin, stepped forward and said:
“Little Master, the Master has come, and wants to chat with you about joining the army.” The stout man’s voice was muffled; he was the bodyguard placed by Illyrio by Aegon’s side.
He was an ‘eunuch’ gladiator bought by Illyrio from Slavers Bay, known as’Strong Belwas’, looking simply like a brass statue.
Aegon believed that regarding the matter that he was not Illyrio’s son, Belwas would not go around telling people; the order Belwas received should also be to look after Aegon rather than monitor Aegon.
However, objectively speaking, there was no difference between the two; Illyrio could learn of Aegon’s movements through both Belwas and Shamira.
Although Aegon reduced the frequency of deep communication with Shamira, he still got handsy whenever he had the opportunity, to ensure that Illyrio would not raise suspicion.
“Mhm, let him come see me.”
Considering that Illyrio had always raised him as a prodigal son, Aegon simply acted like a prodigal son, never giving Illyrio the respect a father should have.
Hearing Aegon say this, Belwas did not reply, but instead wore an expression as if he were constipated.
Finally, he plucked up the courage to open his mouth and dissuade him: “But…
Little Master, the Master has been running around outside all day, you should go over instead.”
After all, Illyrio was the master who bought him, so he naturally prioritized Illyrio.
But Aegon, as the son spoiled rotten by Illyrio and his future heir, left Belwas caught in the middle and very hard to handle.
In addition, Belwas was also very strange—why did Aegon not want to be a proper wealthy young master, and suddenly want to join the army?
“I see his spirit is quite sufficient; he has time to look at other people’s sons, but no time to look at his own son.
Tell him to come over!” Aegon still maintained a tone of lacking respect for elders.
Belwas had no choice, and could only go back to find Illyrio.
A moment later, a fat middle-aged man with yellow hair and beard came to the deck.
He was wearing luxurious silk, and his ring-filled hands supported his belly.
In this era of widespread malnutrition, he lived quite luxuriously.
Whenever he walked, the deck under his feet creaked.
It was none other than Illyrio, except that his rounded figure showed no sign at all that he used to be a swordsman.
Illyrio was an upstart magister who rose in Pentos over the past few decades, mainly engaged in gem, dragonbone, and spice businesses.
As for where the dragonbones and gems came from, there must be a story behind it; even with one’s toes, one could think that Varys’s help was definitely involved.
However, Illyrio indeed had business acumen, and in the past two years, he started getting into the cheese business, making his family fortune increasingly robust.
He himself also loved eating cheese so much that all his teeth became charred yellow, and he even had severe bad breath.
Whether physically or psychologically, Aegon was unwilling to get close to him.
However, toward Aegon, Illyrio couldn’t like him either.
Watching Aegon leaning against the railing looking all crooked, a sense of disgust and disdain arose in Illyrio’s heart, but as a veteran in the business world, he hid it very well.
When Aegon turned around, a smile instantly piled up on his fat face.
“Good boy, how was your day today?”
Seeing this magister arrive, Shamira and Belwas all stood honestly to one side.
Only Aegon, ‘presuming on favor to act spoiled’, continued to tilt his body, raise his head, and face him with his nostrils.
“Yo, old thing, you finally deigned to come back from Young Griff’s place?
Could that guy be your illegitimate son?”
“What are you talking about!” Illyrio said gloomily; the killing intent revealed by this former swordsman made people feel that the surrounding air grew a few degrees colder.