Chapter 19. Humble Chess Piece

"I really don't understand why you're so enraged. Is it because you failed to kill your enemy yourself? You want to kill me? You'd even resort to lunatic ramblings to slander me?" Jon, seeing the situation stabilize, pressed his advantage. "I apologize—I truly didn't realize your hatred ran so deep. What did that man do? Did he bed your wife?"

The surrounding laughter grew even louder.

"Thirty," Harui held up three fingers. Unable to explain to the mercenaries, he simply spoke in the language they best understood. "Kill him, and I'll give you thirty gold dragons."

The mercenaries' laughter abruptly ceased. Jon felt scorching gazes directed at him as the air filled with the scent of greed.

"Oh? Really? Is a common merchant trying to compete financially with a Lannister?" Jon sneered, then looked at the mercenary captain. "Kill him, and whatever he offers, I'll pay twice as much."

"You can't get the money." Harui was halfway through his sentence when he suddenly remembered that his opponent had already completed the first kill mission. He could only clench his fists and swallow his words.

"Of course I can get the money," Jon replied with a smile. He wanted to claim his prize in the system immediately and remove the money from his backpack, but caution prevailed.

These mercenaries are all Harui's men. What if after I produce the gold, they rob me and silence me?

"I don't have funds with me now," Jon said contemptuously, "but my retainers will bring the payment shortly. A Lannister always pays his debts. For thousands of years, we have never broken our word."

No one questioned Jon's statement. Whether from his supposed identity as a Lannister bastard or his bejeweled attire, Jon's words carried conviction.

"Annie, I don't have time to access the system now. Can you collect the reward for me?" Jon asked internally.

"Yes. The gold dragon rewards have been distributed. Due to your insufficient storage capacity, some rewards will be delivered by an escort NPC."

One liter of gold weighs around 37 kilograms, making 3,000 gold dragons weigh about 45 kilograms. Additionally, gold coins and bars occupy considerable space. A grid-based storage backpack couldn't hold so many dragons.

Why am I thinking about delivery services? Jon cursed inwardly, knowing this wasn't the time for cleverness.

"When will the reward NPC arrive?"

"You have three options: [Warrior's Son], [Raven's Teeth Guard], or [Elite Sworn Knight]. After selection, they'll be dispatched from the nearest resource point, five kilometers away."

Jon was genuinely stunned by these choices, as the first two organizations had long vanished from history.

The Warrior's Sons were an armed sect of the Faith of the Seven, disbanded during King Jaehaerys I's reign, the fourth Targaryen monarch.

Also known as the Swords of the Faith or the Stars, the Warrior's Sons were all anointed knights who renounced titles, castles, and lands. Their duty was protecting temples and escorting the faithful from bandits and heretics—similar to paladins without holy powers, undoubtedly an elite class.

Jon rejected this option without hesitation, as Warrior's Sons wore distinctive attire.

They donned rainbow cloaks emblazoned with "a crystal sword of many colors shining on a black field," and silver-plated armor. Star-shaped crystals weighted their sword hilts. Though impressive, if two such warriors arrived, no one would believe they served House Lannister.

(A special note for those who only watched the TV series: The show's depiction of "Warrior's Sons" more closely resembles the Poor Fellows, another armed Faith sect. The Poor Fellows, as their name suggests, require no further explanation.)

The second option, Raven's Teeth Guards, served the famous noble bastard "Bloodraven" Brynden Rivers under King Aegon IV, the eleventh Targaryen ruler. Bloodraven became Hand to two kings, later Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, and eventually the Three-Eyed Raven, who lives to this day.

They wielded weirwood bows, their most renowned feat occurring during the Battle of Redgrass Field when suppressing the Blackfyre Rebellion—shooting King Daemon Blackfyre and his twin sons from 300 yards away. They were unquestionably elite ranged units.

Jon didn't choose them either since they lacked horses and couldn't arrive quickly enough.

After selecting the most inconspicuous but statistically impressive Elite Sworn Knight, Jon looked to Captain Carmel for his answer.

As Jon expected, Carmel rejected him after brief hesitation: "Defect on the battlefield and turn my sword against my employer? What kind of man do you think I am?"

I think you're a mercenary! Who else would you be? You won't accept payment? Is my offer too small? Jon looked perplexed.

Harui, standing opposite Jon, sighed with relief, grateful he hadn't misjudged his hire.

Sir Carmel's company had always been the most reputable near Lord Harroway's Town. This was why Harui had sought them out, unhesitatingly paying twelve gold dragons—several times the standard rate—to secure their services over another bidder.

Rumor held that Carmel was the eldest grandson of an earl whose family sold their lands due to bankruptcy. By Carmel's generation, even the title was lost.

He'd earned his knighthood through merit during King Robert's campaign against Balon Greyjoy's rebellion.

Determined to restore his family's standing, Sir Carmel valued honor above life itself. This sense of honor was now Harui's greatest asset.

Indeed, Harui couldn't financially compete with a "Lannister bastard" who'd claimed the first kill reward, but Carmel was his employee. In over twenty years as a mercenary, Carmel had never been known to break his word.

"You're rejecting my offer?" Jon confirmed. "If you think it's insufficient, I can offer three times what he's paying, or any price that satisfies you."

"Note—any price, whatever you ask," Jon emphasized, confident he could meet any demand. After all, if Jaime Lannister was worth 1,000 gold dragons, they could ask for 200 from a bastard and still reach for the sky.

All the loyalty and honor in the world stems from insufficient payment.

"Sorry, Sir. My honor forbids betraying my employer." Carmel seemed momentarily tempted, but his answer chilled Jon.

Jon knew Ned Stark was rigid about honor, but he never imagined encountering such a peculiar "honorable" mercenary on his first day in the game (even though this mercenary had been carefully chosen by another player).

What kind of mercenary values honor?

However, Carmel immediately changed tack, sending Jon's heart racing: "Similarly, my honor forbids dishonorable violence against nobility. Therefore, if you swear not to move against my employer, I shall let you depart."

Could you please stop these dramatics? Jon clutched his chest, feeling his heart nearly leap from his body.

Before Jon could speak, Harui intervened, retorting almost reflexively: "Noble? He's merely a bastard!" Then, catching himself, "No—he's not even a bastard, just a liar!"

"Our contract requires protecting your life and eliminating your enemies. Your enemy is dead; we need only ensure your safety now." Carmel's refusal sounded as determined as his previous rejection of Jon's offer.

This earned Jon's respect—if indeed it was respect and not ridicule.

"I am your employer, and I order you to kill him!" Harui raged. Had he seen himself, he might have recalled the image of Joffrey shouting "I am the king!"

Jon, however, no longer sought conflict. His desire to kill Harui wasn't overwhelming—he'd already completed the first kill task. At this point, the reward for killing another early-game player wasn't worth the risk.

For Jon, both parties walking away was entirely acceptable. He swore without hesitation:

"I, Jon Snow, swear by the Seven Gods, on my father's honor and that of House Lannister, that I shall never hold Master Harui, Ser Carmel, or his mercenaries accountable for today's events. I shall never seek vengeance, lest the Father's judgment fall upon House Lannister."

"House Lannister has nothing to do with you!" Harui snarled through gritted teeth.

"Thank you, Sir. May the Seven bless you," Carmel bowed slightly, then turned to Harui and grasped his arm. "Let's go, Master Harui. Sir Jon has sworn not to pursue this matter. Stop provoking him."

Clearly, he interpreted "House Lannister has nothing to do with you" as an insult to Jon's bastard status.

"I—" Harui felt profoundly aggrieved but swallowed his pointless explanations, knowing that without evidence, all was meaningless talk.

He couldn't comprehend how his defeat had occurred so unexpectedly.

From the moment the fake bastard appeared, Harui had never connected him with being another player.

Harui couldn't make sense of it. The man rode a well-bred warhorse worth at least twenty gold dragons, wore a brocade hunting suit, a gold shawl, and a gold-plated belt worth no less than three gold dragons, with a noble knight's sword bearing Lannister heraldry—yet he was a player who came to deceive and ambush him, a merchant with average attributes of only 5. What madness was this?

Doesn't he have access to the recharge window? If you'd told me earlier, I would have paid too!

Disguised as a Lannister bastard—damn it, Carmel wouldn't move against him. Carmel—

Whatever thought crossed his mind, the dejected Harui suddenly lifted his head to look at Jon, his eyes gleaming: "Do you think today is fated to end in a draw?"

A draw? Well, yes—if you say it's a draw, so be it. I've already gained what I wanted. With this thought, Jon nodded in agreement: "Yes, a draw. I have no objection if you claim victory."

"But I cannot accept it," Harui said quietly, pitifully. "I wonder if you've heard a certain saying?"

"What saying?"

"What 'Littlefinger' taught Sansa—that in the game of power, even the humblest pieces have their own desires, and sometimes they refuse to play the moves you've designed for them." Harui revealed a terrifying smile.

Jon's pupils suddenly contracted.

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