Chapter 200: East Evil, West Venom

An entire hour passed before Lisbon finally grasped all the secrets of "Three Gods Returning to the Cave." He could now barely manage to execute it once.

Dany impatiently stood up. "Alright, go home and practice slowly. Give it ten years or so, and you might reach half my skill level."

"Ah, the great Dao is simple, yet the easier something looks, the harder it is to actually do." The young mage wiped the sweat from his forehead, sighing deeply.

That's because you're too dumb—underdeveloped brain, poor coordination, bad eyesight.

But Dany wasn't exaggerating. Her skills were truly exceptional, probably close to that of the legendary Ghost-Hand King.

After all, this was a world of low martial arts and low magic. As a knight who had taken half a step into the second realm, the "Effortless Strength" stage of a Grand Knight, she had far superior vision, hand speed, and mental composure compared to ordinary people.

In fact, achieving the "As Flexible as an Arm" level would already make someone qualified to perform "Three Immortals Returning to the Cave" on national television.

The old fire mage watched them return and asked sourly, "Well? Did you master it?"

Lisbon straightened his back and said proudly, "No wonder it's called 'Three Gods Returning to the Cave.' It looks simple but actually involves dozens of elements—thought process, psychology, hand speed, eyesight, language, and more. Mastering it completely is extremely difficult. Fortunately, I have extraordinary talent and have already learned all the techniques. My practical skills are at least at the beginner level."

"Wow, truly worthy of being the number one among the younger generation in the Western Continent!" The Moonchantor exclaimed in shock.

"I knew I wasn't wrong about you," the Shadowbinder said with satisfaction.

The male sorcerer and the old mage cast envious, jealous, yet dejected and despairing glances at him. Sigh, not only does this guy have incredible luck, but his talent is ridiculously good too. The heavens are truly unfair!

"Alright, the deal is complete, and the gathering is coming to an end. Everyone is free to speak openly and exchange insights on sorcery and secret arts," the Shadowbinder clapped his hands and announced.

The group didn't hesitate, each bringing up the difficulties they had encountered in their practice to seek guidance from the Shadowbinder.

Nominally, it was a discussion, but in reality, it was just a powerful figure answering questions for his juniors.

This was the Shadowbinder Tam's special session—his responsibility as the meeting's guarantor.

As a complete novice in cultivation, Dany had never encountered a bottleneck. She neither knew what to ask nor had the ability to answer anyone else's questions, so she simply listened in silence.

The more she listened, the more shocked she became. Though she didn't understand most of what they were discussing, the Shadowbinder answered every question without hesitation, as if the responses were second nature.

Herbology, poison preparation, magic reagents, cursed potions, bodily pains during meditation, reducing magic misfires, the names and taboos of certain demon gods...

Even "how to scam money from nobles"—someone actually asked that.

It was the old fire mage.

"I'm planning to head to Slaver's Bay to warm up to the Mother of Dragons," the old man admitted frankly. "Almost everyone is betting on the coalition army. Many mages are scrambling to join the grand event of dragon hatching.

"But I know my own worth—I'm nothing compared to Grand Sorcerer Tam.

"Meanwhile, the Mother of Dragons has a worrying future, but for now, she's thriving—flowers on silk, oil over fire, in her prime!

"More importantly, she doesn't have many mysterious figures by her side and has seized a great deal of Gold Honor Coins from the slavers. I want to give it a try and see if I can become her Royal Sorcerer."

Damn, do you think I'm that stupid?

Royal Sorcerer? You really have some nerve.

"Heh, do you think the Mother of Dragons, who has four dragons, needs a fire mage? Do you believe you're better at breathing fire than a dragon, Grand Mage?" Dany couldn't help but sneer.

"What do you know?" The black old man shot her a disdainful look, then nodded respectfully toward the Shadowbinder. "Of course, I'm not qualified to be her Royal Sorcerer yet, but that's exactly why I'm asking Grand Sorcerer Tam for advice!"

Old man, are you implying something here?

That Grand Sorcerer Tam, like you, relied purely on his "guidance skills" to gain the trust of Valyrian nobles, without having any real ability?

"I'm afraid it won't be easy. Even meeting her in person will be difficult," the Shadowbinder hesitated.

"Why? I have a way in—she won't refuse to see me."

"What way?" Dany asked curiously.

"The rulers of Volantis are strictly suppressing news from Slaver's Bay, but everyone in the supernatural world knows that the Dragon Queen has posted notices in Meereen, recruiting fire mages who can manufacture wildfire."

"Are you insane?" The young fire mage looked at the old man in disbelief. "Everyone knows why she wants wildfire! Not to mention the possibility of the coalition army sending assassins after her, the amount of wildfire she needs isn't just a few liters. Brewing hundreds, even thousands of liters of wildfire could easily get someone killed."

"Why?" Dany asked in confusion.

Since taking Astapor, her recruitment notice had been up for almost a year, yet no real fire mage had applied.

Well, a lot of street magicians had shown up.

Apart from a few fire mages who had managed to refine white phosphorus and gained her trust, the rest were all frauds—who not only failed to get paid but also received ten lashes from the demon-tailed Hatar.

The Shadowbinder slowly explained, "Very few people in southern Essos dare to produce wildfire because of the high temperatures. When the temperature exceeds body heat, wildfire becomes unstable.

"You might not know this, but wildfire can explode under direct sunlight, from friction or impact, and the brewing process is extremely dangerous.

"Focusing on making a small amount for experimentation is manageable, but if you produce too much at once…"

At this point, she asked the young fire mage, "What is your error rate?"

"In a cold basement, two ounces each time—I can achieve a success rate of 95%," Lisbon said confidently.

The Shadowbinder looked at Dany and said, "So, do you understand now? Even the genius mage Lisbon makes mistakes. If he were to prepare 1,000 ounces of wildfire for the Mother of Dragons, he would fail about 25 times."

"After that many attempts, I might actually become more proficient," the young fire mage protested.

"Or you might become more exhausted, more numb, and make even more mistakes," the Shadowbinder glanced at him before turning back to Dany. "Twenty-five failures—Lisbon couldn't possibly be lucky enough to avoid disaster every time. Yet, even 1,000 ounces wouldn't be one percent of what the Mother of Dragons requires."

The old mage chuckled and said, "I could take my time, or I could train apprentices and have them do the work. If the allied forces attack, I could even become their spy."

"Well, you could give it a try. With your talent and wisdom, I believe you could shine brilliantly under the Mother of Dragons," Dany encouraged him sincerely.

"Thank you." The old Black man, experienced in the ways of the world, immediately recognized the priestess's genuine well-wishes, and his heart warmed.

Dany continued strategizing for him. "It would be best to find a few more colleagues to share the risk. The journey is dangerous—going alone is too risky and too conspicuous. It's better to gather a group of dozens of fire mages. A Royal Mage also needs subordinates, and if something does go wrong, there'll be others to take the blame."

"Thank you," the old mage's eyes grew misty with emotion.

"Take this fireproof balm," he said, pulling out a wooden box from his bag and handing it over. "Layla, you've been traveling the Summer Sea, and your skin has tanned. If you apply this balm and then use fire to heat your skin slightly, it will help shed dead skin and restore your fair complexion."

"Uh... thanks," Dany forced a smile as she accepted the balm.

As the two exchanged pleasantries, the Shadowbinder suddenly spoke in a low voice: "The Mother of Dragons is a source of miracles. How could she not have the attention of mages?"

"Who?" The old man was startled.

"The most elite among the extraordinary. As far as I know, the Grand Warlock Pyat Pree and Quaithe of Asshai were the ones who led her out of the Red Waste."

"Grand Warlock Pyat Pree and Quaithe of Asshai?" The old Black man's face turned pale. "They're both powerhouses!"

"In Qarth, I heard that Pyat Pree had a falling out with the Mother of Dragons, and Quaithe never stayed by her side for long," Dany frowned.

"You've heard of Quaithe too?" The Shadowbinder was surprised.

"Of course. There were three people who went to the Red Waste in search of dragons—everyone in Qarth knew about it. But I don't know much about Quaithe. Is she famous in Asshai?"

"In Asshai, Quaithe holds a position akin to Lisbon's in Volantis."

The Shadowbinder's tone was complicated, carrying a hint of jealousy and frustration—just like the old Black man's subtle envy when he mentioned the young fire mage.

Lisbon unconsciously lifted his chin slightly and said with a faintly melancholic tone, "I see. In the East, there's the Shadowbinder Quaithe; in the West, the fire mage Lisbon. Yet, separated by thousands of miles, I may never have the chance to meet her."

In that instant, Dany's perception of Quaithe plummeted—falling from a pedestal to the ground, and then into the abyss.

Tam, you must really hate Quaithe to compare her like this and tarnish her reputation. As fellow Shadowbinders, why turn against each other so fiercely?

Of course, she kept these thoughts to herself. But Tam's words sparked a few doubts in her mind.

"Grand Sorcerer Tam, does Quaithe also practice shadow magic?"

"Every qualified Shadowbinder does."

"My god! Would she try to control the Dragon Queen's soul?" Dany exclaimed deliberately.

"No. The Mother of Dragons has her dragons, and shadow blood magic is mostly used on men," the Shadowbinder explained.

"Why?"

Tam was a reliable source—always answering questions without reservation, even revealing some of the Shadowbinders' secrets. "Because an essential step in performing the ritual is intercourse with the subject."

"Intercourse?" Dany stammered, looking shocked. "So the rumors are true—Shadowbinders copulate with men at night and then steal their souls?"

The Shadowbinder did not get angry. Instead, he responded calmly, "Intercourse is merely a part of the ritual process. 'Lesser' men, those without power in their blood, do not interest us. And Shadowbinders have no need for human souls.

When a true blood sacrifice is required, there's no need for intercourse at all—we simply burn the person alive and offer their soul to R'hllor.

So do you understand now?

Blood magic that requires intercourse and sacrificial magic that steals souls are two different things. The former is far more technically complex than the latter.

This is also the difference between me and the Red Woman of New Ghis.

Those who master shadow magic through their own power are Shadowbinders; those without talent, who can only please the Shadow Demon R'hllor, are witch-priestesses."

"I see."

With Tam's explanation, Dany immediately grasped the distinction between witch-priestesses and Shadowbinders.

It was like how fire mages could control flames even without believing in the Lord of Light.

Although the Shadow Demon R'hllor was the Lord of Shadows, shadow magic was not exclusive to him. Sorcerers who mastered it through their own power were known as Shadowbinders.

"I've heard that in Westeros, there is a king—Stannis Baratheon—who has a Shadowbinder under his command, one who is also a Red Priestess. Do you know her?"

(End of Chapter)

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