Chapter 19 : The Travelling Travellers.

As I reflect on my past life, I can't help but feel grateful for the comfort my father provided me. From the Wrangler Rubicon, he gifted me to the rented house for comfort during college; he spared no expense to ensure my happiness.

However, along with his generosity came three strict conditions: no alcohol or cigarettes, no gambling, and no womanizing.

I adhered to these rules diligently, even more so during medical school.

In my past life, the sight of my college peers jumping from one relationship to another only solidified my disinterest in serious commitments.

As for vices, witnessing the agony of the patients who overdosed on alcohol or consumed gambling left a lasting impact on me, reinforcing my commitment to abstain from such behaviours.

I take pride in resisting societal pressures to indulge in these habits.

So, when drunken Walder attempted to introduce me to them in Westeros, I reacted swiftly, delivering a clean punch to his gut amidst the laughter of the party crowd.

Seriously, only a doctor can recognise the sheer difference in medical facilities and how much of a health hazard the common folk's behaviour is in Westeros.

Amidst the laughter of the party crowd, which echoed through the hall, and the sight of Walder doubled over in a fit of vomiting, I realized that midnight had already passed.

"Alright, everyone, the treat is over. If you stay any longer, you'll have to pay from your own pockets," I announced, trying to regain some semblance of order.

It says something of their state of mind, that they didn't realize this was not the Tavern.

The departing crowd grumbled discontentedly, only about half of them bothering to leave.

The rest had succumbed to various states of unconsciousness, sprawled out across the room in indescribable ways.

Walder, now back on his feet and clearly still agitated, rose with anger clear in his eyes. I knew that in a straight fight, I would likely lose—the irony of a knight being weaker than a maester wasn't lost on me.

"Fuck you. Seriously, you're becoming more of an asshole every day," he spat out, his words slurred from the effects of alcohol.

I couldn't help but snort at his comment. "Perhaps you were too drunk to remember, but the alcohol basin experienced a dip courtesy of Garrel."

Garrel, ever steadfast in his belief that bathing invited diseases, remained unfazed by my attempts to convince him otherwise.

He continued to cling to his peculiar habit despite my explanations.

Leaving Walder to his second round of bonding with vomit, I turned to Smallfoot and instructed him to escort Walder home and prepare for the morning.

"Can't we wait a few more years, as per our original plan?" Smallfoot questioned, voicing his doubts.

"Even I was surprised by the knighthood, but it's the reason I extended the plan. Now, there's no need to wait. It essentially makes no difference," I explained, feeling a sense of resolution about the situation.

With a nod of understanding, Smallfoot picked up Walder and bid me farewell for the night. As the commotion settled, I made my way to bed, ready to rest and prepare for the days ahead.

——————

---------The next day, Citadel--------

As I entered the Archmaester council chamber, I was met with a chorus of complaints—not directed at me, but at the newest addition to our ranks, Hoster Bracken, my teacher.

Hoster had replaced a Maester who met an untimely demise in the most unfortunate circumstances—while relieving himself in the forest during his journey from Highgarden to Oldtown.

The cause of death was certified by the rest of the Archmaesters after a thorough dissection.

Thankfully, I had taught Simba how to erase his tracks effectively, otherwise, the discovery of his presence near the site could have posed a significant problem.

Despite his pacifistic upbringing, Simba and his pride could truly intimidate someone to death. Poor guy, a piss in the forest lead to face to face with dozens of tigers and lions.

My thoughts wandered to introspection, leading me to the conclusion that I had adapted to the violent nature of Westeros.

With that realization, my focus returned to the elderly members of the council, who finally cut to the chase.

"Did I go blind, to miss such a fine Ser taking his candle ceremony? Or could it be? I might have been deaf to miss his oaths." One of them demanded, the jealousy clear in his tone.

Another quickly followed up with, "So tell me, have you forsaken the path of knowledge, or are you preparing to take the vows?"

Seeing through their thinly veiled envy, I responded, fitting to their inquiries. "I will take the vows," I declared, eliciting stunned silence from the council members—except for my teacher, who was already expecting my next move.

"But," I continued, "only after I can bear the responsibilities that come with the vows. For that reason, I am planning an extensive research study across the world. I will return when my knowledge rivals your esteemed heights.'

My teacher couldn't help but laugh at my flippant response to their inquiries, but I pressed on.

"During this study, I will be accompanied by the following Maesters- Maester Walder, Maester Brandon, Maester Steven, Maester Clinton, Maester Harwin…"

I listed off a long roster of Masters and apprentices, each either having reached the limits of their current studies or simply being close friends willing to accompany me on my journey.

" As for safety arrangements, I had prepared meticulously, ensuring that we would face no unnecessary risks during our travels."

All this back and forth is needed for my friends to accompany me, because unlike me, they need the Archmaester Council's approval to keep their status and reputation.

"Enough of this daily routine. It is getting tiresome to hear your arguments every day. Time to get to the important topics."

My ally, whom I had grown to trust through countless exchanges of favours, shifted the conversation in my favour.

Archmaester Harwyn spoke up. "With introducing pens into Volantis, our profits from Essos have tripled. Despite the emergence of various imitations, our products have become the most sought-after, akin to arbor wine in the industry of alcohol. It was thanks to your brilliant strategy to have the nobles endorse our pens first that helped us build this reputation. What do you call this again?"

I smiled at Harwyn, who has become my steadfast ally for me babysitting his grown-up man child, Harwin.

"It's a new concept called brand," I explained. "Through a combination of long-term quality, demand, and image, our Pens are valued multiple times higher than those of our imitators, despite offering similar items. Our Pen even has the crown selling point of being the inventor."

Harliywn burst into laughter at my explanation, while the others nodded in agreement, lusting after the profitability of our approach.

With that, most of the formalities were concluded. It was time for my true journey to begin in Westeros.

—————————-

——Garmond's pov——-

The journey into magic began with a single sentence from Master:

"Alright, Garmond. It's time to start your journey into magic."

Excitement coursed through me, but it quickly turned to bewilderment with his next command: "Pack all your luggage and wait outside the city gates."

I passed the time idly, watching flies buzz by, until gradually, various men and women who were regular visitors to Master's Manor arrived.

First came the men of knowledge, led by Master Walder, who arrived with a long line of carriages filled with various products. Among them were summer spices and grains, items cheaper here than inland.

I realized this journey wasn't just for study—it was a trade caravan, a clever business venture orchestrated by the Master.

Next came the singers and dance troupes, for whom Master was a frequent patron. While I didn't understand the intricacies of music, I knew wonderful music when I heard it. Each performer had some fame for their talent in the streets.

To my surprise, even the famous Mummer group, known for their captivating performances, joined us. I scanned the crowd for their lead. Leonis, the blond-haired master of his craft, known for his thousand expressions.

As I observed him conversing with the Master, I felt a sharp jab at my side. Turning, I saw Garhammer, the best blacksmith in Oldtown, leading his own carriage.

Shocked by his presence, I blurted out, "Wait, are you coming too?"

He ruffed in response, "The smithy will run fine with rolling orders for pens. My hands and feet were getting dull there."

I couldn't help but probe further, "Did Master offer you some enticing project or benefits?" I asked.

Garhammer grinned knowingly. "Both," he replied. "I must say, the brat is growing each day in controlling the hearts and minds of men."

The conversation stopped when Mummer Leonis suddenly stood up and started acting, his face and body going through various expressions.

The singers and dancers followed suit, mesmerising the crowd of the city as the cavern started.

(Verse 1)

Gather 'round, ye seekers bold,

In tales of old and stories told,

Join the caravan, the journey begins,

With Ser Kerith, the knight who wins.

(Chorus)

We are the travelling travellers.

Where all are welcome, none unravelers,

In this diverse, ever-turning troupe,

Where every lesson is a loop.

(Verse 2)

From distant lands and far-off shores,

We bring our wisdom, open doors,

In the heart of knowledge, we find our home,

With Ser Kerith, we freely roam.

(Chorus)

We are the travelling travellers,

Where all are welcome, none unravelers,

In this diverse, ever-turning troupe,

Where every lesson is a loop.

(Bridge)

Through fields of study, we wander wide,

With open hearts and minds untied,

Learning, unlearning, in every mile,

Under Ser Kerith's guiding smile.

(Chorus)

We are the travelling travellers,

Where all are welcome, none unravelers,

In this diverse, ever-turning troupe,

Where every lesson is a loop.

(Outro)

So join us now, in our endless quest,

Where knowledge blooms, and fears are best,

With Ser Kerith, we forge ahead,

In the travelling travellers, whatever dreams are spread.

———————-

I noted out loud," This is much better than the first attempt."

I heard the snort from a familiar kid, Smallfoot. He sarcastically said, with a voice dripping with jealousy, "Of course, you know. So, only I didn't know about it?"

However, knowing his long-standing dependence on Master's guidance, I responded with patience. "Now, now, kid," I said, addressing Smallfoot. "I've told you many times before. Master sees me as a servant most of the time, and occasionally as a student. He's clarified that he trusts me above all others." The subtle praise seemed to bolster the kid's ego, eliciting a preening response from him.

Amidst the conversation, the rhythmic clucking of hooves heralded another figure, roughly the same age as Smallfoot but bearing little resemblance beyond that.

Without hesitation, I greeted the newcomer with respect.

"Master, welcome," I said, acknowledging his presence as he dismounted from his horse with a laugh.

" Well done, Garmond, with a single use of 'Master', you unsettled Leonis."

As Master commended my ability to unsettle Leonis with a mere phrase, I couldn't help but feel puzzled. Though I saw no change in Leonis's demeanour, I trusted Master's insight. Perhaps it was the mummer's skill that was blinding me.

No wonder, it is said one can know nothing about a mummer. It is said they can tell a lie with the confidence of an honest man.

Master's words cut through the tension like a knife through butter, leaving no room for ambiguity. "You truly are an excellent actor, Leonis," he began, his tone laced with a mixture of admiration and reproach. "But unfortunately, in your previous profession as a Bard, you tried to cheat me. In fact, I almost believed your poor sob story as an Essosi until you called me Master."

He then gave a dramatic pause like a mummer show, expecting the continuation.

Leonis's response was a pitiful smile, a facade masking the turmoil within. "Which means a slave owner term, I know, Ser," he replied, his voice heavy with resignation. "It was after that day that my life of chasing flowers and freedom ended."

"No need for gratitude," Master interjected, his voice calm yet authoritative.

"After all, it has led to me getting your father-in-law's employment."

The mention of his father-in-law sent a visible shiver down Leonis's spine, his complexion turning several shades paler.

Master had struck a sore spot, successfully tormenting him.

With each passing day, Master's ability to tease and torment grew more refined, leaving those in his presence reeling from his games of fun.

I felt perhaps I should ask this question about the term with which I should call Master. It was then, did I notice something peculiar from the luggage on Master's horse.

Horse, speaking of horses, even though the master is learning horse riding, he doesn't own one. I wonder if this is a new purchase. Master is self-centered like that, not bothering to inform anything.

I went close to the beast to do my duty as a servant to his master. A proud porter in this instance, moving his shaking luggage.

"I love my mace. Mention it's unique design and name, Gada."

"Always, Ser."

"Good. Good."

In this world, where information is dispersed through art forms such as singing and drama, I had strategically formed my own groups to wield such influence and power.

Now it was time to elevate them to fame and profit. Looking at them, I nodded in happiness at my accomplishment. 

My eyes automatically shifted towards the most talented one among them — Leonis.

As I observed Leonis, the man who had deceived me with his cunning facade, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of frustration.

In truth, the reason I was cheated was because of my complacency.

Having grown used to the straightforward nature of common folk, I had failed to recognize Leonis's deception.

So, I helped him with Gold to set up a music troupe after being cheated by him.

It was only through the AI's analysis during his psych profile, drawing comparisons from various behavioural texts, that I found the flaws in Leonis.

After that, it was a simple game. It was like noticing the flaws in a familiar film upon repeated viewing. The flaws became glaringly obvious once pointed out to me.

Yet, despite his cheating on me at the initial encounter, I couldn't deny the singular talent that Leonis possessed - his ability to act.

It was a skill he perfected, which enabled him to blend seamlessly into any situation and manipulate those around him.

Seeing this talent, I spared no expense in commissioning an investigation.

Using the connections made during my time at the Citadel, I reached out to the underworld, using their myriad resources to gather info on Leonis.

What I discovered was both surprising and disappointing.

Despite his mediocre singing abilities, Leonis had carved out a niche for himself as a singer through his exceptional acting skills.

He had used his talent not only to deceive me but also to manipulate others, particularly in his endeavors to woo women.

Leonis was nothing more than a con artist, using his charm and acting prowess to exploit those around him for his gain.

So, I immediately used wealth and threats. He ended up in a loving relation (forced marriage), and a passionate job to put his talents to the test- as a stage artist.

[In this era-it is called a Mummer.]

--------------------

MOUHPH CLACK CLICK

Amidst the bustling activity of preparations, the voice of my pseudo-student, Garmond, caught my attention.

"Sir, your luggage is moving and shouting?"

Realizing I had forgotten about the last member of our Travellers, I hurriedly responded, "Sorry about that. I forgot about him. Open the sack, but just enough to let out his head."

The sack was opened by Smallfoot to reveal a familiar face to me—Huric—intensely scrutinizing his surroundings, while Smallfoot looked at me for answers.

Walder is scrutinizing Huric's face.

I am scrutinizing everyone.

Funny, everyone seems to scrutinize something.

So I broke this chain by announcing to them, "Guys, meet Huric. He is a core member of our group-The Travellers, where everything is done because it is possible. Everyone here is more or less the core of our group. We will recruit the newer member enticing them with education, livelihood or skills." 

I introduced Huric to the group, explaining our philosophy of inclusion and recruitment at each new location.

But Huric's response was far from enthusiastic. "No, I don't want to leave the city for all the dangers, especially with this group," he protested. "It's already like a lord's escort in numbers. Managing it is insane—food, earnings, security. You madman even wants to expand this group. I've rejected it a hundred times. But you, you kidnapped me."

Walder chimed in with his discovery. "You're the guy who threw sand in Kerith's eyes during the melee and orchestrated a trap for him."

Huric didn't deny it. "Because he wouldn't take no for an answer," he retorted, frustration clear in his voice.

As I observed the reactions of those around me, I could sense the unease lingering from Huric's words. Buying their loyalty would require more than just promises and grand gestures. 

Time to rest their hearts in realms of peace.

"Everyone, please welcome my guards, led by their fierce leader, The Bautista," "

Under the rhythmic sound of marching steps, accompanied by the ding of armours and weapons worth, hundreds of Gold Dragons rang out.

I clapped my hands and extended a warm welcome to Bautista, the father-in-law of the miserable Leonis.

Through my intervention, Leonis had found stability with his abandoned girl, albeit "voluntarily," and in return, I gained the loyalty of the father of the girl, a man well-suited to lead my mercenary group.

Now, because of my newfound status - a Knight — they would officially be known as my Guards.

Bautista, a formidable figure with muscles like a wrestler and a characteristic rocking bald head, knelt alongside his men, a sign of their commitment to me.

I replied from my heart and political mind, "My loyal friend, your place is not at my feet but in my heart.'' 

I embraced him warmly, his words of gratitude ringing in my ears. 

"I will always remember your help in saving my daughter's honour and her future," he said bluntly, his sincerity clear. 

I chuckled at the memory of our first encounter when I attempted to control Leonis. I felt guilty at using his loyalty to represent the status of loyalty for me, but the words I felt were from my heart.

In a clear-cut social hierarchy, a friendship with a landed knight like me is a point of reputation and wonder to commoners.

I could see the looks of respect and envy towards Bautista. He represents a clear path to success for them. So, they will follow it.

Speaking of Bautista. I turned towards his son-in-law Leonis, once a proud peacock, who fell silent in the presence of the burly warrior.

At that moment, as my guards surrounded my group as we travelled through the gates of Oldtown, I felt pure excitement.

I knew I was right in using the relations to expand my core personnel.

Yep, Nepotism is the most reliable way to ensure cohesion and loyalty in this society without the means of strict supervision, like the CCTV cameras.

For example, the current case of Bautista, Leonis and his wife.

Another example would be Garhammer and Garmond.

It was a step-by-step process. At last, after years' worth of effort, I had a group of varying skill sets.

---------------------

----Forests around Oldtown, after 2 days of travel---

I couldn't help but think back about the challenges of setting up a spy network.

It was no simple task, especially considering that spies were cunning and unstable.

Many of them were adept at playing multiple sides to their advantage, making it difficult to find their true loyalties.

The most disgusting thing is the false informations, and traps that will fuck you up.

Yet, despite the complexities involved, even unreliable spies were better than no spies at all.

I could only hope that my teacher could find the truth behind this latest incident that was unfolding before me.

"You pathetic worms, give us all your riches or we will take them ourselves."

As I surveyed the ragtag group of bandits before me, I couldn't help but feel a sense of disdain at their rough and unkempt appearance.

They were the epitome of the classic definition of criminals, with their gruff demeanour and various signs of competing ugliness.

One particularly repulsive individual caught my eye, who was licking his hands with files protruding from his mouth and nose in a grotesque display.

It was a sight that churned my stomach, yet I forced myself to maintain composure.

As I continued to observe, another bandit caught my attention for all the wrong reasons.

He was shamelessly masturbating while leering at the women among us—cooks, washerwomen, and singers alike.

The sight filled me with a mixture of anger and disgust, but I knew I couldn't afford to lose my cool. In situations like these, maintaining control and composure was paramount, even in the face of such blatant depravity.

I could see there were 143 bandits, which is actually a stupendous amount. I wouldn't be surprised if this were all the bandits on the path to the next town. 

Their gathering requires a leader even worse than them, ensuring a leadership based on violence. The other factor was benefits—our group would be the ones to provide those benefits. But who had sent the news to them?

I heard Huric screaming out from his position in the sack, peeking his head out, "Hey, Kerith just gave the gold. Or the produce or something. Even if your guards are trained and well-equipped, it will be a pyrrhic victory."

I had forgotten he was an elite coward, but I frowned at the expectant looks from some of my group.

It seemed everyone was expecting me to use my wealth for a comfortable life. Perhaps I had been too friendly. I was still new at this nobility thing, but I am a fast leaner.

After all, a man in a position of power should always maintain fear or respect to ensure proper behaviour from his subordinates.

It was time to establish that authority.

"I am broke," I shouted out.

Huric was dumbfounded, "Huh!"

"I am broke, you idiot."

"What the fuck? What happened to all the wealth from the pen business and the famous rewards of the Sealord?"

"I spent them on some additions to my manor. Except for my manor, I mortgaged the rest for more money. Which I spent again," I explained, looking at the dumb expression of the bandits and other illiterates present.

"I am broke. Otherwise, why would I roam the world for money and opportunities?" I continued.

Well, it wasn't a complete lie. The rolling wealth of the business and warehouses, coupled with a well-placed inn in Oldtown, was enough to clear my debts in a decade. But if I wanted, I could clear them right now.

"So, I have no money. But luckily, you guys arrived. Looking at the size of your group, I'm sure there must be some wealth stashed somewhere by you."

With that, I walked forward and soon turned into a sprint to the shock of everyone.

I caught my Gada thrown by Garmond towards me and used the running force to turn it into a rotating one.

I released the head of the Gada, striking the pervert's head into pieces.

PUTCH BOOOM

Rolling my shoulders, I said to them while standing chill with the reddened weapon, "Better be careful, you idiots. In the forest, I am more natural, calmer, and also more violent. Let's just say it's a matter of perspective. A perspective of a carnivore."

I laughed as the weapons rang out while part of the guards formed an encirclement around the group. The other part was led by Bautista to tear the idiots apart with his hammer. It truly spoke of their experience and my well-placed equipment so that they easily handled the pests.

Though, I felt a slight relief that none of the fighters ran, while the non-combatants huddled themselves into sitting ducks. I noted that, along with basic education, I must add emergency protocols to these guys.

I could hear the laughs of the bandits attacking me and the roars of my friends telling me to watch out as I contemplated things in the middle of a battle.

I had no worries because I had the best assurance of safety. A roar stunned everyone, followed by screams as various lions and tigers, each reaching 8-10 feet, arrived, cutting through the bandits.

"Mommy."

"Fuck."

"AHHH."

I turned towards my huddling group and walked their way while crushing the bodies of those who stood in my path. I shouted out to them, "I am broke because I financed this journey and also for trading the products owned by me. Only me."

Looking at various members who agreed to accompany me safely to profit, I said, "You will pay your part in the Travellers." You will pay a small amount of earnings to keep this going. You will understand and follow my orders."

At the last point, I could feel Simba positioning himself behind me. He further strengthened the point by tearing a bandit apart by holding him down and tearing him apart with his claws.

While the rain of blood dripped on me, I ended my speech. "Don't expect me to babysit you guys. Rather, it should be you who should babysit me. Do you get that, Harwin? Do you get that, Huric?"

The spoiled brats in my group gave an "Aye! Ser."

"As for the answer to your previous question, Huric, I donated thousands of old dragons to your father. Impressed, he declared you will be his representative to me."

He frowned at that, which was frankly eerie as the rest of his body was still in the sack. Not wanting to dim the effect, I had Simba's pride, which was covered in blood, gather near me.

As I lazily leaned back, I could already imagine the gruesome scene unfolding before their eyes.

A 12-year-old me covered in blood and tissues leaning on a Liger surrounded by various carnivores feasting themselves on various dead bodies.

A rather crimson scene.

"Unlike you guys, when I throw a tantrum, it becomes a Bloody Mess. So, Spoil me well."