Game of Thrones: I Created the Magic Web

Chapter 18: The Sea God's Baptism

The battered and bruised "Harvest" limped into Pentos.

Its sails were more tattered than the burlap on a slave's back, its figurehead was cleaved in two, and its hull was a bloody mess, like a corpse beaten to death with clubs.

Half of the bustling port was drawn to it.

A keen-eyed few recognized it: "That's Magister Illyrio's 'Harvest'!"

"I remember, it last went to King's Landing in the Sunset Kingdom. Is there another great storm on that route?!"

At this, the crowd buzzed with worried discussion. Ship owners and those with family and friends at sea were especially anxious, as if their feet were on fire.

But the reactions ashore had no effect on the actions of the living aboard the "Harvest."

The survivors crowded at the landing, as if pursued by man-eating beasts, completely forgetting that they were now safe.

Regardless, they all eventually touched solid ground.

Some knelt and wept as soon as they reached the shore, others kissed and caressed the ground in excitement, and a few lucky ones found their relatives and friends on the spot, hugging each other and crying with joy.

Although saddened, the crowd was used to such scenes.

A city sustained by maritime trade would naturally endure the sea's wrath and misfortune. This was the bittersweet legacy passed down through generations of Pentoshi.

Indeed, only a little more than half of the "Harvest's" hundred-odd crew members returned, and most of the cargo was lost. But what could they do?

Life had to go on.

The onlookers gradually dispersed, each returning to their own business. The "Harvest's" crew also calmed down and left the docks, leaving only the bewildered Iron Throne envoy and Aelin.

The envoy paused for a moment, glancing at the Crown Prince's attendant, feeling somewhat relieved.

Although his performance during the storm wasn't particularly good, he seemed brave and resolute compared to Aelin.

"Aelin, are you alright?"

The envoy asked politely.

Aelin seemed not to hear, staring blankly, and would suddenly jolt at unexpected moments, startling people.

He ignored the coward, pondered for a moment, and decided to complete his mission as soon as possible.

The sooner he finished, the sooner he could return, never to come to this godforsaken place again!

He dragged the cowering Aelin out of the docks.

The two walked among Pentos's distinctive square brick towers and tile-roofed houses, brushing shoulders with all sorts of people.

Pentoshi citizens with extravagant, brightly colored forked beards, mercenaries openly carrying knives in leather armor, humble free men who were nominally not slaves, low-key figures in disguise, wealthy merchants and powerful clans surrounded by attendants…

Perhaps due to these lively scenes, Aelin gradually calmed down, simply shrinking into himself silently.

After passing street performance venues and markets trading spices, gems, and wine, a huge red temple appeared before them.

Magister Illyrio's courtyard was next to this temple.

Their destination had arrived.

The envoy straightened his attire and stepped towards the courtyard gate.

Aelin glanced up furtively, then stared at the ground and followed. Gods, grant us luck.

The magister warmly welcomed the esteemed guest from King's Landing in the hall.

After hearing the Iron Throne envoy's purpose, he readily expressed his willingness to present a gift to the esteemed Prince Joffrey.

Three beautiful dragon eggs. Littlefinger was actually willing to forgo pursuing the ten thousand gold dragons owed between him and the Iron Throne for this.

Although it wasn't gleaming gold coins right in front of him, it was still ten thousand gold dragons!

Magister Illyrio seemed to already smell the sweet fragrance of gold coins.

Since Varys hadn't sent any news, it meant this was an ordinary transaction. Why not agree if there was money to be made?

Dragon eggs weren't worth ten thousand gold dragons.

Magister Illyrio laughed heartily, promising to send the envoy back to King's Landing to report back tomorrow.

The envoy bowed in gratitude. When he looked up again, two scantily clad, graceful maids stood before him.

He understood and bid farewell to the magister, going to experience the charms of Pentos.

Aelin simply stood there blankly.

Magister Illyrio narrowed his eyes, "Esteemed representative of the Crown Prince, do you have anything to add?"

Aelin didn't respond.

Illyrio showed no displeasure.

"If you wish, I can have servants take you to rest first. How about returning to King's Landing with the ship tomorrow?"

"Ship, ship…" Aelin seemed to have been triggered, instantly becoming agitated.

"No! I don't want a ship!"

"The Storm God is angry! Storm!!!"

He shouted madly, looking up and spinning around, staggering like a drunkard walking on a swaying deck.

The servants tried to avoid him, but one was still knocked down by the frantic Aelin.

Aelin instantly lost all strength, collapsing to the ground and muttering blankly.

"No, no, no ship…"

A look of understanding appeared on Illyrio's face.

The power of the storm was not something mortals dared to look upon directly. Not to mention those who had never been to sea, even seasoned sailors could suffer mental breakdowns after experiencing a shipwreck.

The Pentoshi called this "The Sea God's Baptism."

Those who survived the baptism would become stronger and braver, regarding it as a blessing; those who couldn't would naturally see it as a terrible curse.

Illyrio sighed and signaled the servants to take Aelin away. This so-called representative of the Crown Prince had lost all use.

Based on his past experience, someone in this state wouldn't dare cross the Narrow Sea again for at least three or two years. By then, would the esteemed Prince Joffrey even remember this attendant?

This fellow cursed by the sea could only struggle to survive in this land.

…

The next morning, Aelin was asked to leave the magnificent courtyard.

The down-and-out attendant wandered around the city of Pentos, watching the Iron Throne envoy and the dragon eggs board a ship bound for King's Landing.

Until the light from the sea turned into a warm orange, no one paid him any attention.

Aelin was only grateful for this.

After the storm spared the battered "Harvest," he quickly became an oddity and a joke on the ship.

Who would look up to a coward who hid in his room all day, screaming at the sight of ripples on the surface of a drink?

Now it seemed that this disguise had successfully helped him take the first step in his plan.

As for how to complete the mission after this…

He couldn't help but look towards the direction of the magister's courtyard beyond his line of sight.

The Crown Prince had told him a lot.

Magister Illyrio, the Dothraki horselord "Khal" Drogo, Varys's little birds, and so on, were all dangerous enemies.

Where was Jorah Mormont?

Should I stay in Pentos and wait for an opportunity? Go to other city-states?

Perhaps I could hire some mercenaries?

While pondering, he noticed several malicious gazes around him and subconsciously touched the money bag tied to his waist.

In this situation, the two hundred gold dragons on his person were his only means of survival.

He had to buy a weapon for self-defense as soon as possible.

The nights of Pentos, a dangerous journey, my song…