Chapter 506: The Submission of Braavos

Samwell stood in the ruins of the House of Black and White, holding a pale yellow skull in his hands and examining it carefully.

The skull gave him an inexplicable sense of familiarity, though he couldn't pinpoint where the feeling came from.

Apart from this, the skull showed no peculiarities.

It seemed to be an ordinary human skull, albeit with a strange coloration and a slightly smaller size.

The white dragon lowered its head, nostrils twitching slightly, appearing very interested in the pale yellow skull.

The surviving Faceless Men stood silently around, like statues.

Despite their temple being destroyed, their leader and hundreds of companions killed, they seemed entirely indifferent.

The pool filled with eerie black water had also collapsed. The ink-like liquid spilled out, mingling with blood and creating a ghastly scene on the marble floor.

However, with the death of their leader, the remaining Faceless Men made no further attacks.

Perhaps they had realized they couldn't kill their enemy and chose to give up, or maybe there was another reason.

Samwell tightened his grip on the giant sword in his hands but found himself lacking the desire to continue killing.

Despite their assassination attempts and the intense confrontation earlier, Samwell held some goodwill toward the Faceless Men.

After all, it was through the first Faceless Men that he had found the inspiration to counter the gods and thus avoided becoming a puppet of divine forces.

Moreover, the Faceless Men didn't act for power, wealth, or vanity. Even the price they demanded for assassinations was merely a part of their rituals or sacrifices.

They might be the purest group of people in this world.

"Hand over the dragon eggs, and I can spare your lives," Samwell said.

Even as the words left his mouth, he knew they held little threat to these Faceless Men, who had no normal concept of life and death.

To them, death was likely a form of liberation.

Their indifference to all life made emotions like hatred, joy, anger, or pride seem meaningless.

After a moment of silence, one of the Faceless Men stepped forward from the group, holding a tray.

On the tray rested four dragon eggs.

Samwell was slightly surprised but quickly understood.

"The other three are the dragon eggs lost during the reign of Jaehaerys I by the Targaryen family, aren't they?"

"Yes," the Faceless Man nodded. "Miss Aerea Farman brought these three dragon eggs to Braavos back then, exchanging them with the Sea Lord for a large amount of gold. The eggs later ended up at the House of Black and White, as you might have guessed."

"Part of the price for assassinations, I suppose," Samwell remarked. "Your services have always been expensive."

The Faceless Man nodded in acknowledgment before continuing:

"These four dragon eggs are yours. From now on, the House of Black and White has no further grievances with House Caesar."

"Agreed," Samwell replied, taking the dragon eggs without hesitation.

He wasn't worried about the Faceless Men seeking revenge for today's events; with his current strength, even the Faceless Men would be marching to their deaths.

Besides, given the Faceless Men's peculiar worldview, they might not even bear a grudge.

However, Samwell couldn't shake off the visions he had seen earlier.

"What was that vision about?" he asked tentatively.

"It was your greatest fear," the Faceless Man replied.

Samwell fell silent.

The Faceless Man spoke again:

"We mortals wear countless faces. You are no exception—Samwell Tarly of Horn Hill, the Pioneer Knight of the Red Mountains, the Storm King of Storm's End, Emperor Caesar of King's Landing... perhaps even more faces.

Just as the Many-Faced God has countless manifestations and names.

But at the core, all those who pray are addressing the same being.

And all of us share the same destination—

Death.

The greatest gift, and the most merciful end."

Samwell shook his head, said nothing more, and leaped onto the dragon's back, leaving the House of Black and White behind.

The white dragon spread its wings and soared skyward.

The fierce winds stirred by its ascent wreaked havoc in the ruins, but the Faceless Men remained motionless like statues, their varied expressions hidden beneath their hoods, silently watching the dragon disappear into the darkness.

---

While Samwell was turning the Isle of Gods upside down, a pivotal meeting determining Braavos' future was underway in the Palace of Truth.

The once-dignified nobles now gathered in a disheveled state, angrily bickering.

After the Titan of Braavos was decapitated, the military fortress was engulfed in flames, and the Isle of Gods lay in ruins, everyone had agreed to surrender.

What they argued about was how to appease Caesar's fury, stop the attacks, and persuade him to leave Braavos.

"This is entirely the Antaryon family's fault!"

"Rubbish! That wasn't even the real Bruce; did you think we wouldn't notice? Why should we bear the blame for his actions?"

"Fake or not, it was your family's internal power struggle that brought the Pentoshi here and angered Caesar."

"And what about the Iron Bank? And the Red Temple—why did they awaken the Titan? And the House of Black and White—haven't the Faceless Men always had a grudge against Caesar?"

"I say we hand over Sea Lord Ferrego and be done with it. The old man's nearly dead anyway..."

"Who says I'm dead?"

A frail voice suddenly interrupted from the palace entrance. The nobles turned to see the supposedly bedridden Sea Lord Ferrego walking in with a group of guards.

Though his face was aged, his steady steps showed no trace of his rumored illness.

The sight left Braavos' nobles, even representatives of the Antaryon family, looking as if they'd seen a ghost.

"Ferrego, you—"

"Techo Nestoris," the Sea Lord interrupted coldly, "you should address me as 'Your Grace.'"

Techo, the manager of the Iron Bank, composed himself and quickly understood:

"Your Grace, so you were faking your illness all along."

"Indeed. If I hadn't, I'd likely have been poisoned by certain individuals by now." Ferrego's gaze swept across the nobles, noting their evasive expressions.

He knew this wasn't the time for vengeance.

Resolving external threats came first; only then could he settle internal disputes.

Before the nobles could fully react, the Sea Lord declared:

"This disaster should make it clear to you all—Braavos cannot resist the dragons. Submission is our only option. Does anyone have a different opinion?"

The nobles exchanged wary glances. One ventured hesitantly:

"Can't we negotiate instead?"

"And offer what?" Ferrego countered. "What terms could make Caesar leave? Dragon eggs? Do you think we're still in a position to bargain?"

The palace fell into an awkward silence.

Just then, a roaring wind echoed above the Palace of Truth.

The ground trembled, and through the windows, the nobles saw a monstrous beast descending outside the palace.

The dragon had arrived.

Caesar had arrived.

The nobles realized the final judgment was upon them and felt their hearts tighten.

"Your Grace Ferrego," one noble spoke up, "you may represent Braavos in negotiations with Caesar. Submission… may be inevitable. But we must ensure the protection of our families' interests."

The Sea Lord glanced at the speaker, a hint of mockery in his expression.

"Very well."

Before he could say more, footsteps echoed from outside, each step pounding on their hearts like a drum.

A Heroic young man entered the Palace of Truth.

Golden hair and golden eyes radiated an aura so oppressive that none dared to meet his gaze directly. In his right hand, he held a massive sword, its blade engulfed in golden flames. The scorching heat mixed with the stench of blood, instantly filling the hall and making it hard to breathe.

"Your Majesty Caesar," Sea Lord Ferrego Antaryon immediately turned and addressed him in a loud voice, "I, Ferrego Antaryon, on behalf of Braavos, offer my submission to you."

"Submission?" Samwell repeated the word, a faint smile on his lips. "Tell me, what does submission entail?"

"Naturally, it means swearing fealty to you and becoming your vassal," Ferrego replied without hesitation, as if he had already decided on this course of action.

Hearing this, the Braavosi nobles' faces changed dramatically.

They all understood that if Ferrego truly became Caesar's vassal, Braavos, the secretive Free Trade City, would no longer be "free." It would be annexed into the Seven Kingdoms and subjected to the rule of the Iron Throne.

Even Samwell was slightly surprised. He hadn't expected Ferrego to immediately offer such a lowly gesture of submission.

But he quickly realized Ferrego's cunning.

This old man had been bedridden for years, and his influence in Braavos was virtually nonexistent. Even within the Antaryon family, his authority had eroded.

Under such circumstances, Ferrego was undoubtedly the one most eager for a powerful external ally.

Moreover, while the title of "Sea Lord" was prestigious, it wasn't hereditary. However, a vassal lordship, even as a subordinate to the Iron Throne, could be passed down through the generations.

For the Antaryon family, sacrificing the Sea Lord's temporary prestige to secure a hereditary duchy wasn't necessarily a loss.

But for the other Braavosi nobles, this was bad news.

It meant that all power in Braavos would be concentrated in the hands of the Antaryon family, potentially leaving them out in the cold.

"Your Majesty Caesar," an elderly noble in a purple robe stood up and said, "Braavos is willing to submit, but I believe granting a feudal title is not appropriate. This is a Free Trade City, with its own political traditions. I suggest renaming the Sea Lord's title to 'Prince of Braavos,' who would swear fealty to the Iron Throne but still be chosen through elections as before."

Samwell smiled faintly and said:

"I think it would be better to establish a governor. As the highest administrative officer of Braavos, the governor will still be chosen through your original election process. However, the Iron Throne must approve the elected governor."

Someone asked tentatively, "And if the Iron Throne does not approve of the elected governor?"

"Then elect another," Samwell said lightly, "until someone acceptable to the Iron Throne is chosen."

The nobles exchanged glances, instantly realizing what this condition meant for Braavos.

From now on, Braavos would effectively become an overseas province under the Iron Throne's jurisdiction.

Samwell continued:

"In addition, Braavos' military forces must be completely disbanded. The Iron Throne will station troops here for protection."

This was naked military control.

But Samwell wasn't finished.

"Furthermore, one-third of Braavos' annual revenue must be handed over to King's Landing. As for the Iron Bank… it must relocate to King's Landing as well."

At this, the representatives of the Twenty-Three Keyholder families turned pale.

"Your Majesty, you cannot do this!"

"The Iron Bank belongs to Braavos and must remain in Braavos!"

"Your Majesty, if you wish to gain the respect of Braavosi, you must first respect Braavosi interests."

"Silence," Samwell said softly.

As he spoke, a deafening dragon roar erupted from outside the palace.

The fiery breath of the dragon swept into the hall like a whirlwind, knocking over chairs and forcing the nobles to stumble backward.

It was only then that they truly understood the kind of opponent they were dealing with.

The nightmare of that terrible night flashed vividly in their minds once more, filling them with dread.

"Fire can melt steel," Samwell said. "I wouldn't mind melting your treasury into liquid and carrying it back to King's Landing."

Faced with such a threat, even the most reluctant Keyholder families knew the king's determination.

Resistance would only lead to tragedy.

Seeing the representatives of the Twenty-Three Keyholder families nod one after another, Samwell finally smiled again.

"Good. Rest assured, I do not intend to seize your gold. Even if the Iron Bank moves to King's Landing, not a single coin will be taken from you. All of it will still belong to you."

Hearing this, the members of the Keyholder families muttered inwardly:

If the Iron Bank is moved to King's Landing, and the Iron Throne demands funds, would we even dare refuse?

In Braavos, the Iron Bank was untouchable, not even the Sea Lord could dictate its decisions.

The Twenty-Three Keyholder families had immense influence over the city's politics.

But in King's Landing...

Samwell read their expressions and could guess what they were thinking.

He didn't care.

As for the Iron Bank, he already had a more detailed plan in mind.

"Trust me," he softened his tone, trying to reassure them. "With the Iron Bank in King's Landing, your wealth will not only remain secure but will grow. The bank's operations will expand across all of Westeros and beyond, reaching every corner of the world that I conquer.

One day, you may find yourselves grateful for today's decision."

After these words, Samwell did not elaborate further. He calmly extinguished the golden flames on his sword with a swipe of his hand and said:

"Now, step forward and swear your allegiance to me."

The nobles froze, confused.

"Your Majesty, didn't you say… you were establishing a governor?"

"I did," Samwell said with a smile. "But that doesn't contradict this. You can still become my vassals. The titles I grant you will be honorary, without land, purely symbolic."

This was Samwell's political reform strategy, his method of centralizing power. It was also the system he hoped to implement across Westeros eventually.

But with the White Walkers looming, he couldn't risk disrupting the Seven Kingdoms with drastic changes just yet.

Since Braavos had presented itself, it became his testing ground for these reforms.

The Braavosi nobles were naturally more adaptable to such changes than the lords of Westeros.

And so, under Sea Lord Ferrego Antaryon's leadership, everyone stepped forward one by one, kneeling before Samwell to swear fealty.

It wasn't until the first light of dawn pierced through the thick mist and blackened smoke of the ruined city that the ceremony concluded.

Thus began a new era for Braavos.

(End of Chapter)