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Five days after the battle at the Summer Sea, inside the governor's study in Bandy Island.
BAANG!!
With a face full of anger, Magister Aloma slammed the letter in his hand onto the desk with great force. He then braced both hands on the desk, his sharp gaze fixed upon the wooden surface, lost in deep thought.
Behind him, Archon Pachek's expression fluctuated between uncertainty and concern.
His eyes darted toward Magister Aloma's back from time to time, his thoughts unreadable.
When he noticed Aloma about to turn around, Pachek swiftly adjusted his expression to one of alarm and urgency, as if he were at a complete loss. His voice was laced with anxiety as he asked, "According to this letter, the Summer Sea defensive line has completely collapsed. You people of Lys have the protection of the united fleet under Sharako's command, so you remain unscathed. But now, the Volantene fleet has a choice: they can either land in the Disputed Lands, seize towns, and claim territory, or bypass Lys entirely and launch an assault on Tyrosh and Myr. Governor Aloma, what should we do now?"
Aloma's expression remained cold as he replied, "Unlike our three Free Cities, the Disputed Lands stretch vast and wide. Volantis cannot possibly occupy the entire region in a short span of time. As for bypassing Lys to strike at Tyrosh and Myr?"
He let the question hang for a moment, his sharp gaze sweeping across the room before continuing. "Unless the Triarchs of Volantis have taken complete leave of their senses, they would never embark on such a reckless campaign. If they were foolish enough to plunge deep into the heart of the Kingdom of the Three Daughters, then Sharako's fleet in Lys could easily cut off their supply lines, leaving their forces stranded and vulnerable."
"Of course, if Volantis truly dares to charge ahead so recklessly, then given that most of the agricultural hubs of Lys and Myr have already been ravaged by that demon, their only option for securing provisions would be to invade the agricultural centers of Tyrosh."
Hearing this, Archon Pachek could no longer remain calm. He immediately blurted out, "Then what are we waiting for? We must fortify our agricultural strongholds at once!"
"No!"
Before Pachek could finish his sentence, Magister Aloma shook his head firmly in rejection.
"If the Volantene fleet is like a dull, blunt blade slowly slicing away at our flesh, then the missing Bloodstone Fleet is a dagger lurking in the shadows, poised for a lethal strike. Right now, our most urgent task is to locate the Bloodstone Fleet's whereabouts!"
"The Bloodstone Fleet consists of only a handful of warships, with no more than fifteen hundred soldiers at most. They could never pose a serious threat to the three Free Cities—you said so yourself, Magister Aloma. So why is it suddenly a lethal threat now?" Pachek's tone was laced with doubt, clearly dissatisfied with Magister Aloma's contradictory words.
"The battlefield is ever-changing, and so must our perspectives," Aloma responded coldly. "Previously, no matter how they plundered, they could never shake our foundation. But the circumstances are different now. While their warships and forces may be limited, they possess a terrifying dragon capable of reducing entire towns to ashes. That creature alone is worth more than thousands of ordinary soldiers. If it appears during our confrontation with the Volantene fleet, do you not think it could deal us a fatal blow?"
"…That does make sense," Pacheck admitted reluctantly. "But we Tyroshi…"
"There's no need to worry. I am at least ninety percent certain that the Volantene fleet will limit its actions to either occupying the Disputed Lands or laying siege to Lys. Therefore, we should maintain our current strategic positions and wait for the Bloodstone Fleet to reveal itself. When they do, we will strike them down with full force!"
"…Sigh, very well then."
Pachek shook his head in frustration before turning to leave the study. However, the moment he stepped out the door, his expression darkened.
As the most successful merchant in Tyrosh, he had never relied on sheer luck when conducting business. And he certainly wasn't about to gamble now.
Back inside the study, Aloma's expression was equally grim, his face clouded with uncertainty. His voice dropped to a murmur as he spoke to himself.
"That demon never once targeted Tyrosh before… Now, he has managed to completely evade our trap at Bandy Island, and even preemptively cleared out Bloodstone… Could it be that he is truly a monster of unparalleled cunning? Or… has our nearly thirty-year alliance finally reached its breaking point?"
Yet, it was not only Aloma and Pachek who found themselves trapped in a web of mutual suspicion.
Far away, on the now-deserted Bloodstone Island, Magister Bartos was personally overseeing the preparation of his fleet.
"Magister, since we are abandoning Bloodstone Island and returning to Myr, should we not inform the governors of Bandy Isle in advance?" one of Bartos's trusted aides asked cautiously.
"What more is there to say?" Bartos replied indifferently. "I took on this task only to reclaim the gold and silver plundered from the people of Myr. Yet, after thirteen miserable days on this wretched island, we've found nothing. Not only is there no treasure, but we've also burned through nearly half our food supplies just holding our position."
His expression darkened as he continued. "And now, if the Volantene fleet surrounds us, we will either die in battle or starve to death Moreover, I have already conscripted most of the ballistae and troops from the towns under my rule and sent them to Bandy Island. If that demon truly launches an assault on Myr's towns, the people will have no means to resist!"
He let out a measured sigh before straightening, adopting an air of noble responsibility. "As a Magister, is it not my duty to return at once and protect Myr's citizens?"
Magister Bartos spoke these words with an air of righteousness, skillfully concealing his true nature—greedy and cowardly.
"Magister, you are truly devoted to the well-being of Myr's people! You are an example for us all!"
"Hmm. Make the preparations. We set sail at once."
"Yes, sir!"
The loyal aide bowed respectfully before hurrying toward the flagship of their fleet.
After winding his way through the ship for a while, he finally arrived at a secluded spot near the stern where no one was paying attention.
FLAP! FLAP!
Several pigeons took off from the ship's stern, their wings flapping rapidly as they soared into the sky.
Compared to the ravens of Westeros, the messenger pigeons of Essos were neither as swift nor as resilient against airborne predators.
However, with multiple birds taking flight, as long as luck was not abysmally bad, at least one would manage to deliver the message to its intended recipient.
By midday, Magister Aloma on Bandy Island received word of Magister Bartos's intentions to abandon Bloodstone Island without authorization.
"Fools! Utter fools!"
Aloma cursed, his face dark with anger as he prepared to relay the news to Archon Pachek. But just as he moved to act, he suddenly hesitated. A thought flickered through his mind.
"Perhaps… this is an opportunity?"
---
Magister Bartos's fleet did not make for Bandy Island but instead set sail directly toward Myr.
The journey was smooth, with favorable winds pushing them forward. After only five days at sea, they entered the waters near Lanark Island.
Aboard the flagship, a sailor scrubbing the deck leaned against the railing, staring blankly toward the horizon.
Another sailor passing by caught sight of him and immediately teased, "Hey, slacking off, are you? Caught you in the act! Give me a silver coin, and I won't tell the boatswain."
"Slacking off? No, I'm watching a strange bird."
"A bird?"
The first sailor pointed to the sky. "Yeah, it appears right in front of us at the same time every day. But today… it seems different. Look over there. Just while we've been talking, I think it's grown larger."
Curious, the second sailor followed his companion's gaze.
Sure enough, a tiny speck in the distant sky, no bigger than a peanut, could be seen.
To be fair, he had no idea how big the bird had been in previous days. But even at its current size, most people wouldn't have noticed it unless they were particularly bored and staring at the sky for amusement.
"You have way too much time on your hands…"
The sailor waved dismissively, preparing to walk away. But then, something caught his attention.
The peanut-sized silhouette had grown to the size of a grape.
His interest piqued, he stopped and leaned against the railing beside his companion, both of them now watching intently.
A walnut's size… then an egg… then the size of a sparrow.
When the shadow in the sky expanded to the size of a hunting falcon, both sailors' eyes widened in alarm.
They turned to look at each other, their expressions filled with dread. Then, as realization dawned, they erupted into frantic shouts.
"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!!!"
That was no bird.
It was a dragon, hurtling toward them at terrifying speed!
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[IMAGE]
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[Chapter End's]
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