Chapter 200: The Windblown

Denzo D'han, nicknamed the 'Warrior Poet,' was another captain of this mercenary company and also served as the left hand and right arm of the gray-haired elder.

This time, the mercenaries infiltrated Pentos in batches and through various channels, all to execute their grand plan.

If this plan succeeded, they would transform themselves from insignificant mercenaries to people of wealth and power, enjoying luxury and riches.

Perhaps even... becoming the masters of Pentos.

"Danzo's side doesn't need our concern."

"He knows his limits."

The gray-haired elder remained calm, sitting atop his horse with an unchanging expression.

However, his heart was pounding with apprehension.

This was a risky decision, but the potential rewards were astonishing; risks and opportunities coexisted.

He hid his true identity and never mentioned his real name to others. People only knew that thirty years ago, he was a candidate for the next Prince of Pentos, but he rejected the Magister's appointment and fled his homeland.

Since then, he had wandered among various mercenary companies, joining the Second Sons, the Iron Shields, and the Maiden's Men. Eventually, he left those companies and, with five companions, established his own mercenary company.

Ultimately, they became the famous Windblown in the disputed lands.

He was the only one of the six founders of the Windblown who was still alive, and now served as the company's leader.

Thirty years had passed, and no one knew his name, referring to him only as the 'Ragged Prince' or the 'Ragged King.'

His signature attire was a multicolored cloak made from the clothes of enemies he had personally killed.

And he claimed that once he took off the 'ragged clothes,' he would become the most inconspicuous person in the crowd.

"Is that so?"

Hearing the Ragged Prince's trust in Denzo D'han, the Dothraki man furrowed his brow slightly but said nothing more.

Kago, the leader of the brothers, was more ferocious and skilled in battle, while Danzo, the other captain, focused more on wisdom and maturity.

Although they were both the left and right arms of the Ragged Prince, he trusted Danzo more in some matters, allowing him to handle them alone instead of Kago.

"Is this plan reliable?"

"Boss."

The Dothraki man with the scarred cheeks rode alongside the Ragged Prince on his warhorse and then turned his head to ask.

"Of course, I trust the strength of our brothers in the company, but we don't know about that one..."

Kago feared being betrayed or the other party not keeping their agreement.

He wanted to use some derogatory words, like "little devil."

However, when he first faced the young man, he couldn't help but avoid eye contact, only daring to look down at his own toes.

"Kago, what kind of person do you think he is?"

The Ragged Prince naturally knew what his subordinate wanted to say. The streets were bustling with people, and the gray hair was blown by the wind. The elder then turned his head to look at Kago and asked.

Kago, atop his horse, pondered the question for a moment, recalling Viserys boarding their ship.

The young king wore a white fox fur cloak, his eyes bright as stars, his posture upright, with a sword hanging from his waist. He behaved gracefully without being bound by trivial formalities. With only one attendant, he dared to board their ship, showing no fear.

His presence alone suppressed everyone else in the room.

The Ragged Prince, leader of the Windblown, sat across from him, while Kago, Denzo D'han, and the torturer 'Beauty' Meris all stood behind their leader.

After recalling the young king's demeanor, Kago replied, "He... he seems to be a person of extraordinary bearing and strength."

The Ragged Prince listened to Kago's words, his eyes revealing a glimmer of contemplation. Then, he spoke, "He is indeed someone extraordinary. This time, our plan hinges on his cooperation. As long as he keeps his end of the bargain, we have a chance of success."

The Dothraki man, Kago, nodded silently in agreement, understanding that they could only hope that the young king would uphold his promises.

The Ragged Prince and Kago continued to ride through the streets of Pentos, with the bustling crowd around them completely unaware of the grand plan these mercenaries were about to execute. The fate of Pentos hung in the balance, waiting for the decisive moment when the Windblown would make their move.

As the wind blew through the city, the gray-haired elder's cloak fluttered, a symbol of the storm to come.

However, these ruthless mercenaries found themselves surprisingly restrained in the presence of the noble young man.

'Beauty' Meris even blushed, unsure where to place her hands and feet. Only their leader, the Ragged Prince, managed to maintain composure and act with propriety.

After all, the Ragged Prince was different from the common folk they usually dealt with.

He had once been an heir to one of the forty noble families of Pentos and had received a proper education since childhood.

When facing Viserys, the Ragged Prince's aura was indeed suppressed, involuntarily lowering his head upon their first meeting.

But he managed to regain his footing in their subsequent interactions.

The meeting on the ship ultimately ended on a pleasant note.

The Ragged Prince, not burdened by any psychological barrier despite his age, prostrated himself on the ground and swore allegiance to Viserys, who was nearly forty years younger than him.

Viserys then drew the sword he wore at his waist, the sword of twilight, and laid it on the shoulder of the prostrate old man.

The crimson blade emanated a faint glow, reminiscent of the blood of a setting sun, causing the Ragged Prince to shiver involuntarily.

Viserys subsequently accepted the Ragged Prince's allegiance.

"He..."

Recalling the dazzling young king, Kago seemed at a loss for words to describe him.

The gap between their statuses and levels was too vast, placing them on entirely different planes.

...

Two days later.

Year 291 after Aegon's Conquest arrived.

Snowflakes fluttered down from the sky once again. Two heavy snowfalls within five days undoubtedly signified that this winter might be unusual.

Pentos' traditional festival celebrations officially began.

The night had not yet fallen, but the streets were already festooned with lanterns and streamers, adorned with celebratory banners everywhere.

Pentos was a multi-ethnic and multi-religious city-state, with each ethnicity and faith having different holidays.

However, the arrival of a new year was a grand celebration in which everyone in Pentos participated.

On this day, merchants offered wealth to the Night Lion, praying for even greater gains in the coming year.

Old women placed statues of the Weeping Lady in their homes.

The Hooded Wayfarer was worshipped by the poor, Bakkalon was the god of soldiers, and even the Dothraki commemorated their horse god.

More widespread were the followers of R'hllor, who lit bonfires before sunset, praying for R'hllor to bring the sun in the new year and dispel the cold and darkness.

The faith of the Seven, widespread in Westeros and Andalos, was only a secondary religion in Pentos, while the Lorathi belief in natural spirits was even rarer.

On New Year's Day, the Prince of Pentos had to personally deflower a virgin as an offering to the land and the sea.

Clang—

The piercing sound traveled far, with drums and gongs scattering the crowd on the streets.

Pentos' guards, clad in ceremonial armor and bearing magnificent regalia, protected the titular ruler of Pentos, the Prince of Pentos, as he traversed the streets.

The Prince of Pentos rode in a glittering golden palanquin, with three master of ceremonies carrying ritual implements leading the way.

Viserys did not ride a horse today; instead, he shared a palanquin with the Prince of Pentos, surveying the prosperous city-state.

Night fell.

Pentos was engulfed in a sea of joy, and the people cheered the Prince of Pentos' procession.

Some bold girls even stood on the second floor, lifting their skirts, and showered flowers from above.

However, there were also some farcical scenes. Someone in the crowd suddenly let out a bizarre scream, followed by various profanities and vulgarities directed at the magisters.

After all, these wealthy magisters monopolized one or even several industries, manipulated prices, and exploited the common people's hard-earned money, so naturally, there were those who harbored resentment.

The guards frantically began to arrest people.

After an unknown amount of time had passed.

The procession finally completed its embarrassing tour around the city and headed straight for the Prince's palace.