About three years ago, Wright destroyed the slum district of Drowned Town in Braavos. After much deliberation, the nobles devised a reconstruction plan and prepared to sell the newly built properties.
The officials of the Iron Bank, impressed by Wright's imposing presence and extraordinary charisma, generously granted him a substantial loan. Yet three years had passed, and Wright had not received a single coin—not even a letter.
He refrained from having Odahviing soar over the city to flaunt its might. This was not the Seven Kingdoms. Even during the Valyrian Empire, dragons had never been seen in Braavos—an appearance now would be tantamount to declaring war. Wright had learned this fact from books in Volantis. Besides, he was here to collect money, not to plunder. Preserving his reputation was paramount.
Odahviing circled over the vast swamplands south of Braavos. Wright leaped from the dragon's head, gliding through the air before landing on a road. Summoning his skeletal steed, Arvak, he rode slowly into the city.
Upon reaching the city's outskirts, he transferred to a small boat and made his way inside. He specifically instructed the boatman to dock at Drowned Town—he wanted to inspect the project.
The new street signs confirmed it: the rebuilt Drowned Town had been renamed Springflower District. The entire area consisted of four-story brick buildings with red-tiled roofs and white-painted walls. Each building had a small garden at its base, a far cry from the former slum. The district was now home to numerous landed knights and small merchants from outside the city. The freshly paved streets were lined with bustling shops, filled with merchants striking deals, soldiers training, and children playing. The scene was one of prosperity.
"Having money is truly wonderful. In a few years, my Tyroshi city will look just like this!"
Wright was about to calculate how much he was owed when he realized—he had no idea.
He found himself once again standing on the short bridge where he had first seen Viserys, gripping the marble railing as he tried to recall the past. As he remembered, he had entrusted Prince Oberyn to handle the Iron Bank negotiations. The bank had granted him a loan, but instead of taking the money himself, it had been handed directly to the Braavosi nobles for construction.
The Iron Bank should have issued a certificate, but at the time, he had fallen out with Oberyn. In a fit of anger, he had left with Nymeria and Tyene.
"The certificate... Where is it?"
Wright leaped lightly onto the bridge's railing, raising his right hand toward the sea, trying to reenact his past actions and jog his memory.
"That's right! Before the attack on Tyrosh, Nymeria mentioned that Oberyn had given her the certificate, and she put it inside Tyene's little bear pouch!"
After spending more than ten days flying to Braavos, Wright had no intention of making another trip. He turned to gaze at the opulent Sealord's Palace, steeling his resolve.
"They have to pay me today! And the Braavosi Purple Fleet's southern expedition—the cost of all that dragonfire Odahviing breathed must be covered too! If they refuse, I'll tear down the Sealord's Palace!"
Near the bridge, a group of performers had gathered. Wright approached their leader and handed him a silver coin.
"This is your deposit. Follow me into the Sealord's Palace."
That day, the palace happened to be holding court. The city's most powerful nobles and merchants were gathered for a meeting. The Sealord lounged in his chair, drinking from a goblet, his head propped on one hand. He watched with a bitter smile as the nobles bickered endlessly before him.
On either side of the grand hall, nobles and merchants occupied their respective seats, with a wide aisle between them. Groups of quarrelsome nobles clustered in the center, their heated arguments echoing through the chamber. The Sealord, seated at the far end of the aisle, glanced toward the great doors, silently praying for the meeting to end soon—his appointment with a pleasure barge in the Purple Harbor awaited.
Suddenly, a commotion erupted at the entrance. The arguments ceased, and all eyes turned toward the doors.
Boom!
With a single kick, the great doors swung open, slamming against the walls with a thunderous impact. The afternoon sun streamed inside, casting long shadows across the hall.
A tall man strode through the entrance. He wore black leather boots and fitted black trousers, his upper body clad in a crimson noble's tunic embroidered with countless golden stags. Behind him floated five magical orbs of varying colors, slowly rotating clockwise. The interplay of red, yellow, purple, blue, and white light reflected off his short, jet-black hair.
The soldiers at the Sealord's Palace entrance huddled together, only daring to grip their sword hilts but not draw them. They didn't even dare to speak up to stop him. Accompanied by a powerful background score, Wright strode into the hall with an air of indifference, walking as if he had no kin or allies.
"The Archmage of the Westeros, Honorary Archmaester of the Citadel, Lord of Tyrosh, and Warden of the Narrow Sea, Wright Baratheon of House Baratheon!"
A loud voice shouted out his titles.
Wright ignored the people in the Sealord's Palace and walked straight toward the Sealord.
"It really is him!" The distinct look was unmistakable—noblemen who had seen Wright before immediately recognized him.
"The Red Devil of Braavos!" Someone muttered in recognition.
Nobles still lingering in the corridor stepped aside as Wright, towering over everyone else, walked past. They instinctively cleared a path to the Sealord's throne. Wright stopped before the sea and glanced up at the man seated on the throne.
"Wright, the Archmage, with boundless magic! Conqueror of the Stepstones, Lord of Dragons!"
The loud voice, paired with the dramatic music, once again shouted out his titles, causing everyone present to be stunned.
"The Turtle Butcher, the Golden Thief! Lord of the Ruins!" Some who hadn't seen Wright before murmured, repeating what they'd heard in rumors.
"He is also the father of hundreds of illegitimate children from Myr. I heard he recently dug up the graves of some nobles in Pentos!" the whisperer muttered under his breath.
"Are you the Sealord?"
Wright addressed the young blond man sitting at the center of the hall. This was their first meeting, and Wright needed to confirm his identity.
"I... I am... the Sealord," the young man stuttered, trembling, barely able to speak.
Wright replied, "If you're the Sealord, then good. Three years ago, I invested in the reconstruction of Drowned Town. I'm here to collect my payment."
The Sealord froze, then started to panic. "Lord Wright, I—I really don't know about this!"
Trying to weasel out of paying? Wright's temper flared. He turned to shout toward the hall, "Has anyone from the Iron Bank arrived? Come forward and confirm this!"
"They're here! They're here!"
An official from the Iron Bank rushed to Wright's side. "Your Majesty, I can confirm that Lord Wright did indeed make an investment three years ago."
The Sealord was sweating profusely. Seizing the chance when no one was looking, he quickly wiped his forehead with his sleeve. "Good, good. You Iron Bank officials, hurry up and pay him. Treat Lord Wright and his entourage well."
Wright replied, "It's just me. The people at the door are just some performers I hired."
The crowd suddenly understood—the musicians outside weren't Wright's people. "Get out! How dare you enter the Sealord's Palace!"
The soldiers, unwilling to act against Wright, had no qualms dragging the performers out by their arms.
"Lord! You haven't paid for the performance yet! Lord! Pay us!"
Bang! The doors slammed shut, cutting off the clamor.
Wright's expression remained unchanged. "Aside from the principal and interest to be returned, how much does the Iron Bank owe me?"
"Please wait, Lord Wright."
The meeting had brought the account books, and several Iron Bank officials hurried to a corner to verify the details. The nobles around the room sat in complete silence, each seated straight, with no objections to Wright's sudden interruption.
"Lord Wright, after calculations, the amount the Iron Bank owes you is 110,000 gold coins in profit," the same official announced, stepping into the center of the hall.
"Only 110,000! Do you think I don't understand real estate?"
Fuming with anger, Wright grabbed the official by the collar, hoisting him off the ground and pressing him against his face as he roared.
"I tore down such a large area, and the land cost me nothing. Just those broken bricks, and the craftsmen were from different families—how much could the cost really be? You dare to call it a garden view property next to a stinking ditch, then triple the price when selling it! The nobles who were tricked into buying these houses all have some wealth, but they still built four-story houses! Do you want me to audit the books personally?"
Several nobles who had been involved in the construction saw that Wright was about to take action and quickly rushed over to intervene. Otherwise, not a single one of them would survive if Wright cast a spell.
"Lord Wright, please calm down! The Iron Bank only calculated their own profits. As the builders, we still have our own profit to account for. How much is it on our side?"
He seemed to gesture to a noble nearby.
Another noble quickly chimed in, "We still owe Lord Wright a profit of 210,000 gold coins."
Wright set the Iron Bank official down, smoothing out his wrinkled clothes. He then turned and casually draped his arm over the shoulder of a noble.
"Is it really 210,000 gold coins in profit?"
The noble under Wright's arm broke into a cold sweat. His hands hung at his sides, fingers subtly signaling to others.
"There's also another materials cost, which can be counted as part of the money we earned together with Lord Wright. It's about another 200,000 gold coins."
420,000 gold coins, that sounds about right. Wright thought this was a fair amount. There wasn't much more to squeeze out of them.
"Alright. You pack the money into boxes today and have it delivered to the southern city outskirts."
Braavos had buildings everywhere, and the area near Odahviing was so vast there was no place to land. The gold would have to be delivered first to the southern city outskirts.
Once Wright confirmed the details, the nobles and Iron Bank officials hurried out of the Sealord's Palace to prepare the gold. But the matter wasn't over yet. Wright turned back to the Sealord.
"I still have an account to settle with Braavos. You, you look young, but you should know about the history between me and Braavos. The people from the Nine Free cities all know that the Seven Kingdoms are attacking the Stepstones. How dare you send out the Purple Fleet to attack?"
The blond Sealord looked distressed. "Lord Wright, it wasn't my attack! It was the Sealord's!"
"Aren't you the Sealord?"
The blond Sealord quickly explained, "I've only been in office for less than two months. It was the former Sealord who initiated the attack."
Wright asked, "You guys change Sealords fast. Where is he? Bring him here, I'll ask him what was going through his mind."
Everyone in the room remained silent, until the blond Sealord finally answered.
"Lord Wright, the former Sealord was killed by your dragon in the northwestern waters of Tyrosh. We never even found his body."
"Is that true?" Wright asked the people present.
"Yes, it's true!"
"The former Sealord was crowned shortly after you left. Your father-in-law, Prince Oberyn, was there to witness it. During his reign, he was deceived by slander, employed petty men, and rashly started a war with the Stepstones. All of us nobles opposed it!"
"Yes, yes!"
What a bunch of opportunists! Wright wasn't wasting any more time. "I don't care which Sealord it is. He and the Purple Fleet represent Braavos, and you all are responsible for this war! You started a war with the Stepstones, and I sent dragons to resist you. Do you know how much meat a dragon eats in one sitting? Compensation for starting this war!"
Wright pointed at himself. Losing the war meant compensation. Logically, this money should go to the Seven Kingdoms' treasury, but Wright planned to keep it for himself. The Seven Kingdoms didn't have the ability to demand it back from him. As far as he was concerned, whoever had the skill to get it could keep it!
The Sealord was now drenched in sweat: "Lord Wright, how much compensation are you asking for?"
"A single dragon's flame can melt a fortress. During the battle, my dragon breathed at least 80 flames. If we count each flame at 30,000 gold coins, that's 2.4 million gold coins!" Wright set a high price, aiming to drive the negotiation up. If they bargained, he'd continue, but if they agreed, that would be a big win.
"Lord Wright, there's not even that much money in the Sealord's Palace! It's all been spent on warships and conscription by the previous Sealord!" The blond Sealord was nearly in tears, fearing Wright would explode.
Wright stood silently, not speaking.
"Chamberlain! Chamberlain, come quickly!" The blond Sealord rushed down from the throne and called the palace chamberlain over to tally up how much money could still be gathered.
Not long after, he called together several high-ranking nobles for a discussion. Many faces in the room were grim.
Wright continued to ignore them, only increasing the rotation speed of the five magical orbs behind him. When the orbs spun slowly, they made no sound, but when sped up, the destructive fireballs hummed loudly and the white magical orbs from the transformation magic sizzled faintly.
Wright stood still, expressionless, while the sound of the magic orbs grew louder. The people around felt increasingly uncomfortable, wanting the noise to stop but too afraid to speak up, fearing that if the sound ceased, the magic might explode.
The blond Sealord came back in front of Wright, standing at shoulder height and looking up at him.
"Lord, Braavos can only scrape together 2 million gold coins!"
Wright asked, "Really only 2 million?"
The blond Sealord replied, "Yes, that's all we have. But the animals in the Menagerie could still be worth something!"
"I always leave people a way out. You lost the war, so you have to accept it. Quickly prepare the gold, and just give me one of your rarest animals."
Wright wasn't interested in the animal; taking one of their strange creatures was simply to satisfy Odahviing's hunger. He needed the 2 million gold coins back, and the animal would at least offer a bit of entertainment for it.
The debt collection went very smoothly. The benefit of gold was that it could circulate anywhere. Braavos's gold coins were slightly smaller and lighter than gold dragons, but when converted, the compensation came out to about 2 million gold dragons.
Outside the city, Braavosians packed the gold into crates and wrapped them in a large net. Amid their astonished shouts, Odahviing descended from the sky, swallowing a snow bear in one gulp, grabbing the net with its claws, and soaring off with Wright.