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ASOIAF/GOT: Minecraft in Essos.

Azrael, a language teacher in his old life, transported to the world of ice and fire for no apparent reason, left in a desert near the Dothraki sea, without knowing how he got there and his purpose, must go through tribulations and trials in order to survive in a world full of betrayal, death, hunger, wars and supernatural beings, being his only weapon the little knowledge about the world and a creative Minecraft menu at his disposal. ---------------- --------- For readers who dive into my story, the protagonist will not be op, since I don't have the idea of the protagonist as such in that way, but he will have tools and methods that will make his life easier, which will be largely based on Minecraft's creative menu and his general knowledge of the world. Now, if you decide to read it, I could use your reviews, so this book can reach more people and at the same time motivate me to keep writing. Patreon if you want to help me and read ahead. patreon.com/Dreamer392 Discord: https://discord.gg/2zSPT88TdV

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Chapter Thirty-Nine: [Interlude] The Arrival of a King.

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~~~Bario, merchant of Volantis, eighth moon, 276 AC~~~

~~~Xandar, chancellery~~~

"I pay all the taxes you impose; right here it says so." A tall, richly dressed man was speaking to a man behind a cubicle while holding a stack of papers in his right hand. 

I was currently in the chancellery office, a strange name, but like everything in this city, many things were strange. This office was a huge building located in the castle, very close to the Central Bank, another ridiculous name, because if it was the Central Bank, then it should be in the center of the city, not in Patagonia, where you had to ride an hour to get there. 

The man was arguing with the man in charge of one of the many cubicles in this place since apparently, he had received a fine for tax evasion, something that was very controlled here. If you don't pay your taxes according to what you earned, sold, or bought, you could have serious problems with the CTO, the Customs and Tax Office. 

And in the months when he had built up ties with stores and inns in the city as a merchant, he knew firsthand that it was better to owe the Iron Bank, than to evade taxes, unless you wanted the CTO after you, which didn't end well for the person involved. 

"Mr. Isaias, in the national payroll register, specifically in resolution four, paragraph eight, indent six, it clearly states that those owners of the temporary Crown land belonging permit, shall pay those fees every quarter, and you, Mr. Isaias, did not pay the payroll register last quarter." The Isaias' attendant, as the man was called, explained his situation. 

Something that made an ugly little grimace come across my face: "Poor man," I said to myself, thinking of all the problems that man has on his shoulders, and you see the so-called National Payroll Registration, or NPR, was a branch of the CTO, which consisted of a quarterly payment for the right to own a store, house, or brothel. 

Although the NPR itself did not refer to the payment of tax for owning such establishments, although these were still taxed, the NPR consisted of the payment for the ownership of the land where your business was located. 

Since, unlike in the other free cities, even in my beloved Volantis, that didn't exist, if you bought a mansion or set up a store, you didn't have to pay those ridiculous NPR things for owning land, but here, apparently, the land belonged to the Crown, so for you to live on it, you had to pay quarterly for it, if you didn't, you ended up on the street or out of town. 

"But I didn't know about that!" shouted the man in alarm. "That shit doesn't exist in Pentos; how do you want me to know?" 

"Mr. Bario, your turn has come; you may join me," a beautiful young woman greeted me. She was wearing a beautiful fine black and purple body-fitting tunic, sleeveless and with a plunging neckline, which, accompanied by her simple, but dedicated make-up, made her a complete beauty. "Ehhh? Yeah sure, lead the way." 

"Stop! Let go of me!" was the last thing I heard from the NPR man, who was handcuffed and dragged by two armed guards to god knows where. 

The young woman led me into a well-decorated room, with several expensive armchairs, along with several tables filled with snacks and wine. 

Not only that but there were several pictures with paintings made with gold nuggets or jewels: 'How rich are these people? So this is where the taxes end up' I thought as I saw all this ostentation. 

"Mr. Bario, please take a seat." A mature woman received me in the ostentatious room, sitting behind an oak desk. "My name is Rachel, quartermaster of the chancellery, and I have been following your case since last week. As I understand, you aspire to get a merchant pass, am I correct?" 

"Yes, you are," I said once I sat down in the comfortable chair across from the lady. "Well, fortunately, your case was approved by the senior desk, so you currently enjoy a permanent internship in the city." 

I just smiled, enthusiasm evident on my face, and how could I not? If I had just obtained permission to stay in the city as long as I wanted, my registration at customs when I entered Xandar would not have been temporary. That would open the doors for me to grow my trade within the city to sky-high levels. 

"So, what should I do now?" I asked, to which the woman handed me a piece of paper with several letters written on it—'Contract' I thought. 

"Here are the rules, regulations, and laws that you must now abide by as a permanent intern at Xandar. Read them and sign them when you are ready," the woman enlightened me, and without wasting any time, I began to read the lengthy document. 

It talked about the greater rights and the duties I now enjoyed, as well as the possible punishments, penalties, or fines in the event of breaking the stipulated contract. It didn't seem like a big deal to me, so taking the strange pen the lady offered me, I signed the document. 

"Excellent," commented the woman, "you can go to reception to get your etiquette and have an excellent time at the carnival." 

After saying goodbye to the woman, I went to reception and was given a new tag. At the same time, they noted my facial features and even had me stick my hands in a type of wax, which hardened and showed the shape of my hand once I lifted it. It was in case my tag was lost, so they could know it was truly me and not an imposter. 

After all that, I took my horse from the stables and started to leave the public area of the castle, which was immense, but I was left in intimate apparel in front of the colossal castle I was in, with its immensely high walls, towers, and domes reaching up to perhaps touch the clouds. 

A complete beauty, it is undoubtedly the largest building in the known world. 

"Smile, friend!" Once I left the castle grounds, a boy ran past me, running and dancing. 

The boy wore colorful robes and a strange mask on his face, made of yellow, red, and green cloth, with big ears and a big nose. 

That one, as well as almost everyone who lived in this city, was partying. The carnival of triumph was called the celebration, an event where several stages were erected in many parts of the city; puppeteers, singers, theater groups, and even orchestras were presented, the latter being the largest. 

The carnival was in its first celebration since it had been a year since the King conquered Astapor, freed his slaves, and founded Xandar. 

From what I had seen, they were celebrating the anniversary of the city, while expressing love and affection for their monarch. 

It was a nice thing to see, especially since the atmosphere was very festive and a magnet for potential trouble. Nothing like that has been seen so far. Everyone was enjoying the carnival, going to the public stalls to drink and eat for free, while outside their gates there was an army besieging the city. 

Something very crazy, to be exact; I had never seen anything like that. Instead of starving, dying, and feeling desolation as a result of a siege, these people danced, ate, and drank until they explored and even had a party. 

However; that created windows of opportunity for me. With the help of the carnival, I could sell the rest of my merchandise that I had brought from Volantis and sell them at a high price; after all, these people had money to spare; even the peasants, or as they were called here, farmers, had more wealth than me. 

So, without wasting time, I made my horse advance along the entire first avenue, the wide street that was next to the Rosa River. Until I reached the ramparts and passed the gates without mishap. 

Having a permanent passer tag was already showing its uses, since before, to get through the wall gates, I had to spend almost ten minutes answering awkward questions. 

It wasn't until half an hour later that I arrived at the big stable, the place where most of the horses, camels, goats, and other people-eating beasts were sheltered. 

I hated those things, remembering the day I almost got eaten by one. 

The large stable was similar to a fighting pit, only supremely larger and circular, reaching an absurd height, towering and towering over the other buildings like a black eye on the face. 

Its interior had several huge doors connecting to the outside, along with several large corridors, tunnels, and alleys. 

Thanks to the fact that I had already been in this place for a long time, I did not get lost. 

Soon I arrived at the open field in the center of the large stable, a large stone square where the caravans of foreigners were kept sheltered, as well as the famous Xandarian carriages. 

However, something caught my attention: many people were excitedly running to take the elevators, with ecstatic, almost maniacal faces.

"What's going on?" I reached to ask one man, "The king! The king is back with the horde!" 

That surprised me, and willing to see the reason for the restlessness of the others, I left my horse near my caravan and soon went to take an elevator. 

The short ride to the twentieth floor didn't take long, and when the elevator doors opened, I stepped out until I reached the hallway that led to the circular balconies surrounding the large stable. 

The place was packed with several people already looking out, enjoying the view that the balcony offered, with the great canyon and the gigantic mountain range visible. 

But what blew my mind was the sight of the largest cavalry I had ever seen—rows and rows of men in armor riding armored horses. Easily, there were over a hundred thousand men out there. 

The great tide of men rushed towards the camps of the mercenary companies that had set up the siege of the city, killing them and destroying the siege in the process. It was, without a doubt, the most beautiful and terrifying thing I had ever seen. Understanding that Xandar had become a hard nut to crack.

Creation is hard, cheer me up!

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