Chapter 363: The Academy Takes the Initiative

Earlier, in order to search the kitchen near the main battlefield, the Night's Watch had built three campfires around the well using firewood.

Broken beams crackled as they burned in the fire, with fierce flames leaping half a meter high.

The fat man had managed to keep his oath even in the face of the Dragon Queen. After experiencing the cracking of the Wall, he was now even more resolute in resisting Stannis's pressure.

He stubbornly refused to reveal the secret of the Black Gate. And since both Stannis and the Night's Watch had already gone down the well without extracting the secret as Daenerys had, they made no progress.

Moreover, with the Night's Watch standing nearby, they didn't want Stannis to gain control over the Wall's magical core. As a result, Stannis wasn't able to exert much pressure on the fat man.

Before long, the fat man was set free.

Cold, exhausted, and hungry, he went to the fires by the well's edge, squatted down against the wall, and closed his eyes to rest—until his sharp eyes caught sight of a pig's trotter that the Dragon Queen had kicked into the ashes of the stove.

When the Dragon Queen entered the kitchen to look for evidence proving the rat chef's existence, she saw the fat man sitting by the fire, face covered in grease, gnawing on a bone.

"Seven hells, Sam, what are you eating?!" Daenerys had a bad feeling.

"Burp—pig leg," Sam mumbled around a mouthful of greasy tendon, chewing heartily. "No, wait, doesn't taste like pork—tastes better than pork. Venison? Maybe roe deer? Or like bamboo rat. So fragrant, so juicy. Is there any more? One's not enough!"

"That big piece wasn't enough?" Daenerys twitched at the corner of her mouth, confirming again, "Where did you find that pig leg?"

"In the stove pit. Lucky me, I've got sharp eyes," Sam said as he gnawed noisily, complaining, "Dragons are wasteful eaters—burned half the leg with a single blast of fire. If it hadn't been scorched, I'd be full by now."

Gulp. A bead of cold sweat slid down Daenerys's temple. She blinked rapidly and swallowed hard. "I remember... it was already cold."

"Just cut off the charred parts, slice it into chunks, toast it a bit over the fire, sprinkle on some salt—delicious. Mmm, but this bone's really hard," Sam said, stuffing a large bone into his mouth. The grating of teeth against bone made one's teeth ache just hearing it.

"That meat... its origin is unclear," Daenerys hesitated, unsure whether to speak the truth.

"Isn't it just meat and bones leftover from the dragon? I've seen plenty over the past few days in front of the King's Tower. Sometimes even Ser Barristan slices a piece off the charred bison leg as a drinking snack," Sam replied.

He pulled the bone from his mouth, drew his longsword from his waist, and with a series of clangs, chopped off the top of the bone. Then, he picked up the remaining piece and sucked hard at the open end.

"Slurp—" Thick, fragrant, milky-white marrow slid into his mouth, making his squinted eyes shine with happiness.

"This fat one needs to be quarantined," Daenerys pointed at the bone-sucking Sam and said to the Night's Watch and Stannis, "Lock him in the stone cellar underground. No contact for at least fourteen days."

This was an age of moral collapse, an age filled with turncoats and oathbreakers.

And at this moment, someone was considering switching allegiance for a fourth time.

Under the setting sun, the surface of Blackwater Bay glittered gold.

On Tideshead Island, in the city of High Tide.

A stone castle stood on a sea cliff, with a tower rising high.

At the head of the castle's hall, seated on the Driftwood Throne, young Earl Monterys clutched a letter with trembling hands and nervously asked the grey-robed maester beside him, "Maester Newton, what should we do now?"

Earl Monterys was only six years old, with a round, ruddy face, pale skin, and the Valyrian signature silver hair—a very cute child.

But at this moment, his eyes lacked the innocence and carefree spirit a child should have. Instead, his blue eyes were filled with confusion and fear.

The hunched old maester with white hair frowned deeply in thought, then solemnly said, "My lord, in theory, you should follow the example of Earl Adrian—immediately switch banners, declare your stance publicly, and firmly support Daenerys Targaryen."

"But we just pledged allegiance to the Lannisters," hesitated Ser Sothoryos, a middle-aged knight missing a front tooth. "In the Battle of Blackwater, Earl Morford died, and Tideshead Island suffered heavy losses—we can barely protect ourselves now.

But during the battle for Dragonstone, Earl Redwyne's fleet from the Arbor didn't loot Tideshead Island.

That's because we had already promised Duke Tywin that our young earl was too young to resist King Stannis, and the day Dragonstone fell would be the day Tideshead Island pledged loyalty to the Iron Throne.

Now, Dragonstone has fallen for less than a month, and we just pledged allegiance to Queen Cersei not even a month ago. Switching sides again so soon, isn't that too..."

The battle for Dragonstone had been extremely brutal. Ser Rolland and a few dozen men left by Stannis inflicted dozens of times the casualties on the Lannisters.

Of the 2,000 elite Western soldiers Tywin had left in King's Landing as a reserve, more than 1,000 died on the spot. Most of the rest were severely wounded.

That's why, even after the High Sparrow had Cersei imprisoned, he could still leisurely mop the floors in the Great Sept.

Dragonstone had been devastated, yet barely ten kilometers away, Tideshead Island remained peaceful, filled with music and dancing.

Even though at the time, on paper, Tideshead Island still belonged to Stannis's domain!

Such was the survival wisdom of Westerosi nobility:

—Abandon honor, kneel and beg. Keep your castle, and live in comfort.

After Earl Monterys's father died, a few loyal retainers had secretly surrendered to Tywin after the Blackwater ended.

With Tywin's personality, he would warmly step forward to personally lift up those who knelt and begged for mercy, and drink with them at the same table.

They had once betrayed the Targaryens after Robert's Rebellion to support Baratheon, becoming turncloaks. In the War of the Five Kings, they had abandoned the Baratheons for the Lannisters, becoming triple traitors.

Now, the young earl saw a chance to return to his original allegiance.

"Ser Sothos, it is House Targaryen that is the true liege lord of House Velaryon," said Ser Dink, a knight in his early fifties with graying cropped hair, sighing with a complex expression. "More importantly, she has dragons—she is the true dragon! Now that the true dragon has returned, House Velaryon can only submit."

"But the Citadel says she's a wicked sorceress who has committed countless atrocities. She even violated the guest right, burned the Citadel, and fed Maester Perestan to her dragon. Would the people of the Seven Kingdoms accept such a woman?" Ser Sothos asked hesitantly.

Well, Daenerys's guess wasn't wrong. The night she left Oldtown, the Citadel frantically dispatched ravens, spreading word to the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms that the Dragon Queen had violated the guest right and viciously burned the Citadel that had hosted her kindly.

Yes—the one who broke guest right was now the Dragon Queen!

The Citadel and Oldtown nobles had welcomed the Dragon Queen, under the alias Laela Waters, with great hospitality, only for her to supposedly unleash dark sorcery within their halls. When Maester Perestan and Ser Darks Norton (who was later ambushed and killed by Barristan in the halls during the Citadel uprising) tried to stop her, she summoned her demonic dragon and had them devoured.

Then she rode her dragon and burned nearly half the Citadel—completely destroying the administrative tower.

You have to understand—the Citadel's archmaesters were treating Laela as a guest of the highest honor at the time!

So, while Daenerys was still posturing in the Riverlands, news of her arrival in Westeros had already reached the nobles south of King's Landing.

Leaving aside how the lords and commoners reacted to the return of the Dragon Sorceress, one man didn't hesitate: Count Adrian Celtigar, who had been quietly held prisoner in King's Landing, immediately fled.

Count Adrian Celtigar, Lord of Claw Isle, had fought alongside his younger brother, Lord Morford, in the Battle of the Blackwater under Stannis.

After all, Claw Isle and Driftmark were among the most powerful of Dragonstone's few vassals.

In his fifties, Adrian was a bit luckier than the not-yet-thirty Lord Morford. Or perhaps, due to his age, he was simply more cautious and cunning, not as reckless as the young. His family forces took some losses, but he managed to survive.

Without a doubt, Count Adrian was a proper nobleman—he knelt to Tywin at the first opportunity.

Whether it was the true dragon, the lion, or the stag, it made no difference to the crab (the Celtigar sigil being a red crab).

Tywin didn't make things hard for him either—just told the old crab to stay in King's Landing for two years until the situation stabilized, then he could return home.

The old crab gladly agreed.

He truly believed the realm had settled and that the age of the lions ruling Westeros had arrived.

Then Tywin died, the Imp fled, Cersei spiraled into madness, and the Dragon Queen burst onto the scene—returning atop a dragon.

Though old, the crab wasn't senile. He quickly gathered the two or three hundred remaining "crab soldiers" and fled King's Landing under the cover of night.

At that time, the 2,000 Lannister soldiers in King's Landing had been sacrificed by the Knight of Flowers on Dragonstone, and even Cersei had been imprisoned by the High Sparrow and subjected to all sorts of torment. The Lannisters' power in King's Landing had entered a vacuum, and no one cared about the old crab escaping.

As soon as he reached Claw Isle on a fast ship, the old crab immediately sent a letter to the neighboring Driftmark, inviting his younger brother: "Let us welcome the Queen together and join her righteous cause."

Then, the six-year-old Lord Montery summoned his bannermen to discuss the matter.

"Even as a maester, I must say—the Citadel has made a grave mistake this time," said Maester Newton grimly.

"You believe the maesters are lying?" asked old Ser Dink, eyes lighting up.

Indeed, most nobles were skeptical about the Dragon Queen violating guest right.

Especially those lords and knights who had attended the Honeywine Conference. They had interacted with Laela and, though shocked to learn she was the Dragon Queen, few truly believed she would violate the guest right.

The commoners, however, were a different story—quick to believe gossip. Many cursed the Dragon Sorceress, and some even compared her to another Frey.

"I can't find a reason why the Dragon Queen would break guest right. Yes, many in Oldtown saw her riding her dragon and hurling fireballs, and yes, the Citadel was indeed burned…" Maester Newton paused, his face darkening. "But there's a saying—'the guilty accuses first.' I fear the guest right violation may actually be true, but…"

Ser Sothos licked his teeth uneasily. "Could the Citadel be lying? That's impossible. The maesters swear neutrality—they don't meddle in power struggles. Unless…"

"Did you notice the reaction from House Hightower of Oldtown?" Maester Newton asked bitterly.

"What reaction?"

"No reaction. Complete silence. Most of the Reach lords are silent, too. If the Citadel had no political motive, why would the Dragon Queen strike them? I rather suspect that a maester recognized her true identity and did something dishonorable, provoking her retaliation."

"This…"

The young earl looked confused, but Ser Sothos and old Ser Dink turned pale, exclaiming in disbelief, "The Citadel has gone mad?"

Hiss—ROAR—!

Suddenly, a beastly roar thundered across the sky outside, bringing with it a terrifying aura that chilled the soul.

"Dragon—A giant dragon!" the guards outside shouted frantically.

"Heh…" the hunchbacked old maester let out a bitter laugh and shook his head. "No more debating. She's here. House Velaryon has no choice. My lord, it's time to swear fealty."

(End of Chapter)

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