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Game of Thrones: Lord of the Flames

[Game of Thrones Fanfiction: Readable Even Without Knowing the Original Novel or Series] Years later, When the legendary lord, dragonrider, Son of Sacred Flame, Nightmare of schemers, Breaker of the game’s order, Undefeated myth of the battlefield, Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm— Samwell Caesar ascends the Iron Throne, he would surely recall that distant afternoon when he received the writ of expansion from the “Rose of Highgarden.” Back then, no one could have imagined that this young man, abandoned by his father, would unleash an iron-blooded storm that would sweep across the entire continent of Westeros. Raw: 权游之圣焰君王 Author: 萝卜上秤

Iceswallowcome · Diễn sinh tác phẩm
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159 Chs

Chapter 158: Preparing to Return

"Come on, come on, look here! This is none other than the legendary dragon-slaying sword of Ser Savin the Mirror Shield!"

A vendor in the bustling northern market of Steel Street in King's Landing held a gleaming longsword aloft, loudly singing its praises. But the passersby barely spared him a glance—no one, that is, except Samwell Caesar.

The vendor's eyes lit up as he took in Samwell's attire and the servant at his side.

"A wealthy customer!" he thought gleefully.

"This fine weapon would be perfect for a brave knight like yourself, good sir! It's yours for a mere ten gold dragons!"

Samwell took the sword with a good-natured smile, inspecting it briefly before shaking his head. "That's too steep."

"Then what would you consider fair?"

Samwell held up five fingers.

"Five gold dragons?" The vendor struggled a moment, then clenched his jaw. "All right! Five gold dragons, then!"

Samwell kept shaking his head. "I meant five copper pennies."

"Copper pennies?!" The vendor nearly leapt back in indignation. "Are you mocking me?"

With a slight squeeze on the blade, Samwell applied just enough pressure for the "dragon-slaying sword" to groan ominously, on the verge of snapping.

"This was supposedly Ser Savin's dragon-slaying sword?"

The vendor's face reddened, though he kept up the charade. "Of course! Back in the day, Ser Savin used this very sword…"

"Ser Savin was no knight. He was a hero from the Age of Heroes," Samwell said, poking holes in the story without mercy. "There weren't even knights in those days. If you're going to spin tall tales, put a bit more thought into it."

The vendor, face red and trapped, finally muttered through clenched teeth, "Fine! Four copper pennies!"

"Three now," Samwell replied cheerfully.

"Three pennies?" The vendor exclaimed in horror.

"If you wait much longer, it'll be two."

"All right, all right! Four pennies!" The vendor slumped, defeated.

"Katu, pay the man," Samwell gestured to his servant, who completed the purchase. Samwell dropped the so-called "dragon-slaying sword" into his cart, which was now piled high with various oddities.

Once the deal was done, he and Katu moved on, continuing their treasure hunt.

A little farther down, Samwell paused again, stopping to inspect another vendor's wares—a strange white bone, carved with twisting designs, which the vendor claimed was a dragon's leg bone.

As Samwell took it in hand, he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"Lord Caesar, that's a water buffalo's leg bone. Don't let him swindle you."

Turning around, Samwell saw Garlan Tyrell, with his sister Margaery and their new companion, Nathalie Dayne, who seemed increasingly attached to Margaery's side. The two young women wore matching floral gowns, their radiant smiles as bright as twin stars.

After a friendly exchange of greetings, Nathalie approached, lightly poking the bone in Samwell's hand with a curious finger.

"Are you planning to buy this, Sam?" she asked.

"Yep."

Upon hearing Samwell's answer, the vendor quickly piped up. "That's a dragon bone left behind by Balerion the Black Dread! Worth its weight in gold! A hundred dragons would be a bargain!"

Garlan scoffed, "One hundred gold dragons for a water buffalo bone? Do you take us for fools?"

The vendor stiffened, "My lord, I swear on the Seven—this is a true dragon bone!"

Trusting Garlan's word, Samwell handed the bone back to the vendor without further argument. Margaery took a look at Katu's cart, heaped with all manner of oddities, and laughed.

"Lord Samwell are you here on a treasure hunt?"

"Yes, precisely," Samwell answered, deadpan.

"Then you must be cautious. King's Landing has the craftiest tricksters in all the Seven Kingdoms."

"I know," Samwell replied, amused. "But I'll be careful."

Margaery didn't push the matter. Instead, she changed the subject. "Lord Samwell, we're setting out for home tomorrow, taking the Roseroad south. Lady Nathalie's agreed to travel with us. Will you join us?"

Nathalie was quick to chime in. "Yes, come along, Sam! Margaery invited me to Highgarden to see the golden roses along the Mander River. They say it's beautiful!"

Samwell gave a regretful shake of his head. "I'm afraid I can't, my ladies. I've already arranged passage back with Ser Horas and the fleet from Arbor Island. But I'll visit Highgarden soon after returning to my lands. And if Nathalie is still there, who knows—we may meet again soon."

Though a little disappointed, Nathalie gave him a small smile. "All right. But don't make me wait too long!"

"Do come," Margaery added, with a playful wink. "My grandmother has been wanting to meet you."

Hearing that the famed "Queen of Thorns" wanted a meeting left Samwell slightly uneasy; it was hard to shake the feeling that she would somehow hold him accountable for any number of things.

"Of course. I'll come soon."

"Then we'll see you at Highgarden!"

"Yes, at Highgarden."

Samwell watched as the group departed, a faint smile lingering as they disappeared into the bustling crowd.

It wasn't that he didn't want to travel with them—any man would leap at the chance to journey alongside Margaery and Nathalie—but there were, in truth, important matters he couldn't leave unattended.

Foremost among those was the matter of the dragon skulls.

Knowing the skulls had the power to enhance his attributes, Samwell couldn't let them continue gathering dust in the Red Keep. He'd already secured a cargo ship to take the skulls to his stronghold on Eagle's Nest. To avoid drawing attention, he was buying up all kinds of dragon-themed trinkets—statues, paintings, supposed dragon eggs, and so-called "dragon bones."

He planned to hide the genuine skulls among these fakes and discreetly load them onto the ship, dodging suspicion.

Resolving to see his plan through, Samwell took up the "dragon bone" once again. "I'll take this one."

The vendor's face lit up with hope—until Samwell continued, "Three copper pennies. Take it or leave it."

The vendor pretended to consider, then nodded eagerly. "Deal!"

As Samwell dropped the "dragon bone" into his cart, Katu, his servant, could no longer hold back his confusion.

"My lord, if you know these are fakes, why buy them?"

Samwell chuckled, answering in a philosophical tone. "What's fake and what's real? If no one can tell them apart, does it matter? Perhaps, my dear Katu, in a world like ours, fake can sometimes be real, as would real be fake."

Katu seemed only more bewildered but fell silent and continued pushing the cart through the market, following Samwell on his "treasure hunt."

By evening, Samwell finally called it a day, his cart brimming with his peculiar finds.

After commanding his guards to load the dragon hoard onto the cargo ship, he caught a wary look from the ship's captain, who seemed to think Samwell was… unusual.

Under the cover of night, Samwell managed to bring the authentic dragon skulls aboard without causing a stir.

However, he couldn't bring all nineteen skulls. It wasn't for lack of desire; some of the skulls were simply too massive to fit through the narrow Red Keep passages leading to Blackwater Bay. Seven skulls, the smaller ones, made it onto the ship, enough to keep him supplied for some time.

He left the rest in the Red Keep, promising himself he'd return for them someday.

The next morning, Samwell bid farewell to Margaery, Nathalie, and Garlan, then returned to pack for his journey home.

Before departing, he called upon Lord Eddard Stark, the Hand of the King, for a brief meeting. Though he wasn't planning to fulfill Eddard's mission just yet, he felt it courteous to keep the lord informed.

At the Hand's Tower, Samwell was informed that Lord Eddard was currently in a council meeting, so he waited patiently in the antechamber. After a while, he heard a clattering sound outside.

Curious, Samwell peered out the window and saw Eddard's daughter, Arya Stark, in the courtyard below, locked in a swordsmanship lesson.

"Advance!" her teacher, Syrio Forel, commanded, swinging his practice sword toward her head.

Arya raised her wooden sword to block, the clash of wood on wood echoing through the yard.

"Left!" Syrio called. "Right!"

"Left! Down! Right! Left! Up!"

His instructions sped up, and Arya found herself pushed to her limits, retreating as her teacher's wooden blade came at her faster than she could follow.

The sound of clashing wood filled the courtyard.

"Ah!" Arya cried out, rubbing her bruised hand as her own practice sword clattered to the ground.

"You're dead," Syrio said flatly.

Scowling, Arya protested, "You cheated! You said left, then struck from the right!"

"Yes. Which is why you're a dead girl."

"But that's not fair!"

"My mouth may lie, but my eyes and hands speak only truth, you just don't see it" Syrio's tone became serious, "Arya, you need to learn to see."

Arya looked at the bruises on her hands and pouted. Just as she was about to say something else, she suddenly spotted Samwell standing at the window and shouted,

"Lord Caesar! Can you help me beat my teacher?"

(End of this chapter)