Chapter 532: Rhoynish Relics

Rhaegar remained silent, glancing at Daemon across from him. Both were analyzing the feasibility of the proposal. Daemon looked at the red priestess and said to his nephew, "If I remember correctly, you are very repulsed by witches."

The implication was clear: she could not be trusted.

The red priestess did not refute him, waiting quietly for an answer. Rhaegar thought for a moment and said calmly, "Yes, but this method is effective." Minimizing losses and taking the city from within and without was a tempting strategy.

"It could be a trap," Daemon warned.

"This possibility cannot be ruled out," Rhaegar admitted.

"I don't oppose it, but you have to think it through." Daemon frowned slightly, having little trust in the people of the Free Cities.

Rhaegar looked directly into the eyes of the red priestess. He saw no trace of guilt, only the serenity of someone facing death. After a moment of hesitation, he asked tentatively, "How many people can you bring?"

The more people she brought, the less trustworthy she would appear.

The red priestess looked at the uncle and nephew and revealed the truth: "It's best to go alone, and he must be a Targaryen." Without a Targaryen, the old nobility and the Elephant Party would not be at ease.

Daemon tapped his fingers on the table and said calmly, "I'll go for you."

As a good nephew, the king should not take unnecessary risks.

Rhaegar shook his head. "I'll go myself."

"You should think carefully. There is a possibility that you will not return," Daemon warned.

"Uncle, you know me. It's hard for ordinary people to hurt me."

Rhaegar made his decision. "I will enter the Black Wall, and you will command the army from the outside."

Daemon's eyes flashed, and he drained his cup in one gulp.

...

The Summer Sea.

"Roar..." Vhagar growled, and with a mighty flap of its wings, the massive dragon soared into the sky, protecting a warship as it returned to the Disputed Lands.

Laena felt extremely depressed, unwilling to leave the battlefield. The old dragon's temper had worsened with age, and it would brook no offense, especially when faced with the water wizard from Rhoynar.

It was as if it had encountered its natural enemy, making it easy for it to lose control again.

Behind them, the Velaryon fleet sailed in the opposite direction.

On the deck, the Sea Snake stood beside Rhaenys, who gazed at the night sky, watching her daughter return home, guided by the stars.

"It's cold at night, Aunt," Daeron said, approaching with a lamp in hand to comfort her.

Rhaenys tightened her cloak and said casually, "You're right. A dragon is not afraid of fire, but it is afraid of the cold."

The Summer Sea, located in the tropics, had extreme temperature differences between day and night. The damp sea breeze at night could penetrate even the thickest armor.

Rhaenys watched the shadow of Vhagar slowly disappear and suddenly remembered something. "What was the name of the young man who saved Corlys during the day?"

"Addam," Daeron replied, smiling. "He also saved Rhaena and Maekar."

It was clear from his tone that the two had a personal relationship.

Rhaenys frowned slightly, suspiciously asking, "A bastard of Valyrian descent?"

A bastard born in Hull, whose grandfather was a retired shipwright, and whose father was unknown. It felt a bit strange.

At this point, she had to admit that women have a sixth sense.

Daeron scratched his head and said honestly, "Addam has another brother, both of whom are good sailors."

"I see," Rhaenys said, stopping her line of thought. "The fleet is approaching the port of Volantis. We may have to attack first."

Rhaegar and Daemon would take the land route, which would take longer. Before Volantis received news of the fleet's destruction, they needed to catch them off guard.

"Yes, my lady," Daeron replied, descending the stairs with a serious expression on his face.

...

The next night in Volantis, under the shadow of the Black Wall, a red priestess in a hood walked with a confident stride toward the city gate.

"Stop! Your token!" A guard with a tiger face pattern on his armor stopped her and asked the usual questions.

The red priestess tossed a token at them and said coldly, "I'm here to attend Lord Tesrio's meeting."

The guards exchanged glances, checked the token, and returned it to her.

The red priestess raised her head and strode into the Black Wall.

"Wait!"

She turned back, her face impassive. "What?"

The garrison members looked at each other in embarrassment, then pointed to the red priest beside the red priestess, hesitating, "Who is he?"

The red priest turned his head, revealing a weathered and sagging face.

"He is one of the priest of the Red Temple. What more proof is needed?" The red priestess approached the guard, her presence completely overwhelming him.

The garrison member bowed his head, hurriedly saying, "Let them pass!"

"Hmph!" The red priestess snorted, and her figure gradually disappeared into the night.

...

The headquarters building.

The red priestess successfully infiltrated the building with her token. Finding a hidden corner, she turned and said hurriedly, "The Triarch of the Elephant Party hasn't arrived yet, so things may change."

The red priest removed his hood, revealing a strand of silver hair as his cold voice replied, "What difference does it make?" He wiped his face, removing a human skin mask, and Rhaegar's true face emerged.

He had learned this technique from Syrio, but the materials for making the mask were hard to find.

The red priestess looked around warily, her voice sharp, "The old nobleman and the Elephant Party's Triarch will both bring teams of soldiers. Without similar support, escaping unscathed will be difficult."

"It's a piece of cake," Rhaegar replied, scanning the area before putting his hood back on. "I'll make my move when the council begins." With that, he climbed the stairs to the top of the tower.

He had learned to kill at the age of six.

The red priestess, impatient and puzzled by the confidence of a dragon rider without his dragon, hesitated for a moment before following the instructions and heading to the banquet hall.

Tesrio, the Tiger Party's Triarch, was a flamboyant character who never left the company of wine and women, always accompanying meetings with banquets.

...

Rhaegar didn't bother to explain and slipped in unnoticed. When the water wizard from Rhoynar appeared, the Tiger Party, Elephant Party, and Tesrio were all secondary. He had to eliminate the threatening water wizards first.

On the top floor, deep in the corridor, a footman carrying a tray of food descended the stairs with steady steps. Suddenly, a pair of hands reached out from behind.

Snap!

The neck snapped, and the corpse lay on the ground, eyes wide open.

"Sorry, you're out of luck," Rhaegar sighed and closed his eyes briefly in remorse.

He then entered the room the footman had just left. The wooden door emitted a faint scent of condensation, and the cool touch of the doorknob was incongruous with the sultry climate of Volantis.

Rhaegar smiled and muttered, "I've got you."

He gently pushed open the door. The room was empty, with only a set of tables and chairs. The doors and windows were all closed.

"Ahem..."

A weak cough came from the bedroom. An old man's voice followed, "Didn't I say I couldn't eat?"

Rhaegar's eyes darkened slightly. He walked lightly to the bedroom door and, through the gauze curtain, saw a frail old man in a gray robe. The old man's eyes were cloudy, his sparse black hair barely covering his scalp, and he lay on the bed with no strength.

At first glance, he looked very much like the old woman who had burned to death—both were Rhoynar with black hair and olive skin.

Clatter...

The curtain lifted a corner, and a figure in a red robe walked in. The gray-robed old man realized something was wrong, looked up at the door, and immediately turned pale.

"Mmmph!" He tried to call for the guards but was quickly silenced by a hand covering his mouth.

Rhaegar smiled playfully, pinching the old man's neck like a baby bird, and whispered, "Be sensible, and you won't suffer."

The gray-robed old man's eyes bulged, and he shook his head vigorously, attempting to free himself.

"If you don't want to toast, you'll have to drink the poison wine," Rhaegar said coldly.

Crack!

The old man's eyes widened in disbelief as his neck snapped. Rhaegar rubbed his hands in disgust and walked to the small dining table in the corner.

A small table held a wine bottle and three low-ball glasses. Sniffing each cup, he noticed the smell of wine mingled with the stench of something foul.

"Three people, at least two water wizards," Rhaegar muttered, glancing at a strange device on the table. It was a bronze vessel carved with the Rhoyne River and an old turtle in the middle.

It looked like a basin and was filled with water. Rhaegar's expression grew serious as he reached into the bronze basin and fished out a blue clam.

Suddenly, two system alerts sounded simultaneously.

"This exploration mission is now open. The target is the sacred object of Rhoynar, the water bowl."

"This exploration mission is now open. The target is the gift of the Rhoyne, the essence of the river."

The system panel automatically appeared.

[Water Purification Bowl] Exploration progress: 0.2% (suspended)

[Essence of the River] Exploration progress: 0.5%

Rhaegar quickly scanned the information, pleasantly surprised to find two relics to explore.

Bang!

The door burst open, and hurried footsteps echoed in the hallway. Rhaegar swiftly turned around and slipped the bronze basin into his space bracelet.

(Word count: 1.633)