Chapter 208: Encirclement

Thirty years ago, a man defected... and left Pentos.

He was filled with resentment towards the Magister and his family, so he fled far away to the disputed lands.

Rumor had it that in order to survive, this pampered nobleman had to pick up a sword and fight. He drifted between several mercenary companies and mingled with commoners, living by dirty bridges and sewer drains.

At that time, the Magisters of Pentos didn't take him seriously.

After all, an ant couldn't keep an elephant's attention, and no one thought he could make any waves. So they simply ignored him.

The Magisters of Pentos then temporarily selected another unfortunate soul from the forty noble families to replace his position, making him a puppet on the ivory and gold throne.

He enjoyed wealth and luxury.

The Magisters believed that the man who had fled would perhaps die in some inconspicuous corner, never able to return home in his lifetime.

However, no one could have foreseen how fate would toy with him.

This prince, who fled on the eve of his appointment, gained a certain reputation and a small group of followers after being forced to pick up a sword, fight, and drift between several mercenary companies.

So he left his previous mercenary company and, along with five companions, founded a new one.

Under the leadership of the prince who had fled, the newly established mercenary company won battle after battle, gradually expanding its power.

It took them ten years to grow into one of the influential forces in the disputed lands, commanding two thousand brave and skilled warriors.

It was only at this point that the Magisters of Pentos paid attention to this man once more.

However, thirty years had passed, and few of the ruling Magisters remained. Most had turned to dust, and the few who were still alive had long since retired, struggling to stay alive in their sickbeds.

The new generation of Magisters had heard of the title of the defected prince but didn't know his background. Since the time gap was so long, they didn't take him seriously either, seeing him as nothing more than a lucky worm favored by fate.

Though he always claimed that one day he would return home openly and honorably, he never dared to set foot in the doors of Pentos in thirty years.

And now... who could have imagined that his name would be brought up again at this time?

A single sentence from Magister Scot caused a huge uproar in the banquet hall.

"What? Viserys is colluding with the Windblown?"

"Is it that guy who defected thirty years ago?"

"The Ragged Prince, right?"

"Yes, it's him."

Many Magisters showed bewildered and surprised expressions upon hearing this shocking news. They couldn't help but whisper to the people beside them, apparently just learning of the news.

Only a few Magisters knew that the Windblown had infiltrated Pentos.

And they had only secretly received this information through various channels a few hours before the festival parade.

It was already dark at that time.

These informed Magisters only knew the news but didn't know how serious the situation was, thinking that only a group of Windblown mercenaries had infiltrated.

The relationship between the Magisters wasn't harmonious, even though they were all considered radical and advocated threatening Viserys to hand over the dragon.

However, before this incident, these Magisters who are now considered a faction were actually hostile enemies, and not stabbing each other in the back was already good enough.

So the news of the Windblown infiltrating Pentos wasn't widely spread among the Magisters.

Magister Scot, who had considerable power in the city-state, was one of those who knew about the matter.

His words completely shattered the silence in the banquet hall. All the Magisters began whispering to each other, and the servants and guards in the hall couldn't help but exchange glances.

At this moment, more and more servants and soldiers were entering the hall from the outside.

These people were the guards and servants brought by various Magisters, and they had all come in to deliver news from the outside world to their masters.

Thump, thump, thump...

After hurriedly entering and whispering the news into the ears of their respective masters, the faces of the Magisters suddenly changed.

"What?"

"How could this happen?"

.

Sitting to the left of Prince Panto were conservative Magisters, including Illyrio, none of whom had servants come in to tell them what was happening outside.

The conservative Magisters were whispering among themselves, not knowing what was happening outside, but judging from the expressions on the faces of the Magisters across from them, it didn't seem like good news.

"Why isn't anyone coming in..."

At this moment, Illyrio seemed to have a premonition of danger approaching.

He clenched his fists slightly and glanced left and right with his small eyes before quietly instructing a servant next to him.

"Understood, master."

The servant then hurried down the stairs and walked towards the entrance of the hall.

Illyrio watched the servant closely, and seeing him successfully leave through the main door, he let out a small sigh of relief.

However, just as he relaxed, a faint scream suddenly came from outside the hall, only audible to those who listened carefully.

It sounded as if someone had suddenly covered their mouth from behind and stabbed a dagger into their throat, then the scream stopped abruptly.

Illyrio's face changed drastically.

At that moment,

A soldier wearing armor and carrying a long spear walked into the banquet hall from outside.

He had a short sword hanging from his waist, and although it was well concealed, there seemed to be a trace of blood visible near his cuff.

Then the soldier casually closed the palace door, retreated, and locked it from the outside.

Click—

The crisp sound of the lock didn't attract much attention amidst the noise caused by the elder Magister's words.

The hall was still in chaos.

Meanwhile, outside,

The soldier who had walked out with bloodstains on him locked the door to the hall and nodded to his colleagues nearby.

"Alright."

And that servant sent out by Illyrio,

His body was now being dragged by two soldiers into the bushes of the palace garden not far away.

A long trail of blood was left on the ground as he was dragged.

The night was deep.

It had already passed midnight on the first day of the new year.

Outside the banquet hall,

Under the blazing torches, cold weapons reflected a chilling glow.

"Over here!"

"Quick!"

Rows of armored soldiers were already in battle formation, surrounding the palace tightly from the outside.