Chapter 185: The Saint

That afternoon.

Viserys appeared in the castle's conference hall, but there was always one person missing.

The young king wore his usual attire, with a golden crown on his head, sitting in the main position, while the important rulers of Andalos sat on both sides of the long conference table.

Viserys then presented the plan he had prepared the night before, regarding the division of the military after the establishment of the kingdom, the construction of new towns, and the reduction of a certain number of rural areas to create towns with a higher population density.

Due to the unique military system of Andalos, the nobles did have private soldiers to defend their castles, but the number was not too large, and the entire kingdom's standing army was held by the king or the commanders he designated.

This was very different from the noble system of Westeros, where the nobles only managed the land and not the stationed army. The authority of the garrison commanders was on par with the local nobles, only that their power was not hereditary.

In theory, the local nobles' governance was slightly higher than the garrison commanders' power. However, in practice, these military commanders were not much less powerful than the local nobles.

Viserys naturally knew that such a system still had many flaws, easily breeding warlords and collusion between local nobles and commanders, among other issues.

However, this was also an unavoidable method based on the current situation. At least compared to King Robert on the Iron Throne, Viserys had more power centralized in his hands.

Dragons were the best deterrent for Viserys to break the tradition and implement new systems. As long as he had dragons, Viserys could tear apart the deeply rooted systems as much as possible and increase centralization.

In a place as big as Andalos, even if there were problems on the border, with rebellious armies or collusion with local nobles, Viserys could ride a dragon the next afternoon, rallying soldiers from surrounding towns and dropping them onto the castle's top. Being 'ahead of the curve' in this era was quite impressive.

"It seems I should retire."

Sir Joffrey's hair was graying, wearing the medal of the Hand of the King, sitting in the first position to Viserys' left, and shaking his head slightly.

"These are the things I should have done for Your Majesty, but..."

But now, the old knight had nothing left to teach him. A wrinkled old face was full of bitter smiles.

Viserys had followed this old commander of the Dragonstone fleet for many years. With Sir Joffrey's deliberate guidance, Viserys learned to lead soldiers in battle and had acquired most of his skills.

In politics, the old knight was just a warrior who knew nothing about governing a country or developing an economy and often even held them back.

He had initially wanted to meddle in the development of Andalos, fearing that Viserys would take the wrong path. But after a lot of fumbling, he realized he couldn't help much and was only causing trouble.

The old man, who had already handed over his military power and returned to his fields, felt powerless once again in the political arena, listening to Viserys' explanation of the future development direction as if it were a sacred text, with a blank expression.

After an unknown amount of time had passed.

"Bessie."

Viserys' gaze turned to the person sitting at the end of the long conference table. Many people in the room looked over.

His entire body was shrouded in thick clothing, and he wore a metal mask on his face. Except for the eyes beneath the mask, not an inch of skin was exposed. His back was straight as if he were an ascetic monk in a sanctuary.

Bessie heard Viserys' voice, tilted his head slightly, and looked at the king he had sworn allegiance to with bright eyes beneath her mask.

"Your Majesty."

His voice was low and hoarse.

It took more than half a year for Bessie, a knight who had risen from a farming family, to overcome his illness and stand up again with determination. Apart from his charred body, which he was unwilling to show to others, he was no different from an ordinary person.

Of course, there was one more thing.

That meant he could no longer wield a sword as Gillyan had diagnosed, and he could not fight like a knight for the rest of his life.

However, Bessie pleaded with Viserys to give him a chance, as he did not want to live a muddled life. Eventually, Viserys entrusted him with command of part of the army.

Subsequently, Bessie led these soldiers to eradicate the Brotherhood and bandits within their territory, who were as persistent as weeds. They achieved victory after victory.

In addition to his strict military discipline and orderly leadership style, he was as disciplined as a monk, with no transgressions wherever he went.

Eventually, he made a resounding name for himself.

'Saint' Bessie.

The reason, of course, was his devotion to the Faith of the Seven. The seven-pointed star symbol on his mask constantly reminded him of his identity as a warrior's son.

"The First Legion is entrusted to you."

The young king, wearing a golden crown, handed Bessie a shiny gold sword-and-shield-shaped medal.

This medal represented the rank of the First Legion commander.

Bessie had been Viserys' confidant since their humble beginnings, always learning from him.

The number of people Viserys could trust was not many, but this loyal knight was definitely one of them.

His loyalty to Viserys was as unwavering as his faith in the Seven, making him a tenacious and principled individual.

Moreover, Bessie's military achievements during this period were evident to all. He governed the army through religion, ensuring the troops' faith was strong and they fought bravely, with no misconduct wherever they went.

This Andal legion, numbered "One," consisted of four thousand elite Andal warriors who had accompanied Viserys in his early battles.

These Andal warriors were valiant and skilled in battle. It was only fitting that they be led by Bessie, the "warrior's son."

Viserys handed the first legion commander medal to this iron-faced knight. The pure gold sword gleamed under the lamplight, and sporadic applause echoed throughout the council chamber.

The Andal nobles present clapped to congratulate this common-born commander.

"Congratulations."

Always frivolous and lazy, Oberyn's face turned serious this time as he clapped his hands to congratulate Bessie.

Oberyn had thought he would become the first legion commander of Andalos, but he didn't expect that this younger, low-profile, and unassuming man would surpass him.

"I am undeserving of such an honor."

There was no emotion in the eyes of the knight wearing the metal mask.

Nevertheless, he stood up, albeit awkwardly due to his transformed body, and bowed slightly.

"Thank you for your trust, Your Grace."