The Mountain of Ice and Fire

Chapter 889: Governor Tyrion

Night. Sea-Lord's Palace.

Inside Bran Stark's small room.

Arya Stark arrived, seeking Bran's help.

"Bran, help me look into Ben."

"The sellsword centurion who pledged allegiance to the Mountain?"

"No, he's now a Royal General of the Sea-Lord's Palace."

"Arya, what problem have you found with him?"

"He's an assassin."

"Arya, to glimpse his future, to see if it's detrimental to the Mountain, I need some time."

"I'll wait here."

"Arya, you're no longer the Mountain's personal guard, you're a highly influential Elder of the House of Black and White."

"In Braavos, I must be responsible for the Mountain's safety. He and Daenerys came here because of me, and all of this was caused by you. Bran, you owe it to me and the Mountain. You must use your prophetic abilities to help me see Ben's origins."

"Alright, wait a moment."

Bran Stark's gaze retracted from Arya's face, slowly turning towards a spot on the ceiling, unmoving. After a good while, his eyes began to roll back, finally turning completely white, his breathing gradually weakening, until it seemed to stop altogether.

Arya quietly waited there, knowing that Bran's soul had left his body. Brynden Rivers, the Bloodraven, could leave his own body and let his spirit wander thousands of miles away, freely entering other lifeforms and controlling their will, often using the Three-Eyed Raven he created himself. She wondered what kind of means Bran used to leave his body and peer into the future of others.

Arya Stark didn't understand the ability of the prophets to explore the future and return to the past.

Half an hour later, Bran's breathing gradually returned, and his white eyes staring at the ceiling also gradually moved, slowly returning to normal.

"Arya, I didn't see Ben doing anything detrimental to the Mountain in the future."

"Who is he? Where does he come from? Which assassin organization does he belong to?"

"Arya, I think you should go find Ben for these answers."

"What do you mean?"

"You should go find him yourself."

"You already know who he is?"

"Yes."

"Could he be an assassin from the Iron Bank?"

The Iron Bank assassins and the Faceless Men assassins share the same lineage.

Bran shook his head: "Arya, when you go find Ben, you will have all the answers you want, better than if I told you directly."

"You think I should go find him now?"

"Yes, now is the best time. Go, Arya. The best outcome for this matter is for you to personally question Ben."

*

Outside the Sea-Lord's Palace square, a team of soldiers patrolled.

This was Ben's team.

The Mountain adopted Ben's suggestion, selecting all the Unsullied from the Braavosi mercenary groups and forming the Royal Guard, which he handed over to Ben to command. Ben was now equivalent to the commander of the guards of the Red Keep in King's Landing.

This was the Mountain's first night in the Sea-Lord's Palace. Ben personally led the Unsullied soldiers to guard the Sea-Lord's Palace and deployed Unsullied patrols in the square and streets.

Wherever Arya went, all the patrolling soldiers saluted her with respect.

The Elder of the House of Black and White was the king's most trusted ally. The House of Black and White did not belong to the Sea-Lord, and there was no clear superior-subordinate relationship between them. The House of Black and White belonged to the Red God, the God of Death, and the Many-Faced God.

Arya found Ben on the long street.

"Ben, I have something I want to ask you."

Ben hurriedly said he wouldn't dare, and he ordered the soldiers around him to continue patrolling. He and Arya came to a stone arch bridge.

"Ben, you are not a general."

"Elder, I am."

"You are an assassin, take off your disguise and let me see your true face."

Ben laughed, and his humility disappeared.

"Elder Arya, if you want to see my true face, you need to overcome the sword in my hand."

Ben had a sword hanging at his waist.

"Good! Draw your sword."

Shui!

With a soft sound, Ben drew his sword!

This was not a narrow sword, but it was not a broadsword either. This was a sword between a narrow sword and a hand-and-a-half sword, wider than a narrow sword, narrower than a hand-and-a-half sword.

Shui!

Arya also drew her sword; Lady Forlorn.

As Lady Forlorn was unsheathed, Ben couldn't help but praise: "Good sword!"

*

The Valyrian steel sword Lady Forlorn, was reforged by Master Tobho Mott, changing the original color of the blade without changing its sharpness.

This sword was a gift from the Mountain to Arya.

The Mountain was also preparing to give Randyll Tarly's Valyrian sword 'Heartsbane' to Eddard Stark. Heartsbane was the Valyrian steel sword suitable for Duke Eddard to use, while the Stark family's Ice greatsword seemed to be the only greatsword custom-made for the Mountain.

Two swords for one sword, theoretically speaking, the Stark family would not lose out.

*

Arya held her chest and back, held the sword in her right hand, and carried her left hand behind her back, as if she was about to dance gracefully.

Shui!

Ben stabbed over with a sword.

Arya dodged sideways.

Narrow swords are light and agile, and rarely use force to block head-on. Either dodge, or use force to strike, are all wonderful moves.

Narrow swords do not have an advantage in strength.

Although Ben's sword was heavier than a narrow sword, he used it like a narrow sword.

Shui shui shui!

Three sword lights suddenly stabbed over, almost twice as fast as the previous stab.

This was Ben's true speed.

Ding ding ding!

With three soft sounds, Arya's Lady Forlorn was like a butterfly wearing flowers, the tip of the sword touched the opponent's sword, cleverly unloading the three swords that had been stabbed.

Changing the position through unhurried movement, and then side attack and stabbing, is the essence of narrow swords.

Ordinary swordsmen, only need a stab, to change the opponent's sword style and contain the opponent's offensive.

But Ben's swordsmanship was too good, too superb, as if he knew Arya's counterattack method. All three times were when Arya's sword tip had just touched and the power had not been fully exerted, he had already changed his move.

This surprised Arya.

There was no doubt that the other party was proficient in narrow sword swordsmanship.

Arya stepped back sideways: "Are you from the Iron Bank?"

"Guess again!" Ben smiled slightly.

At the moment Ben spoke, Arya suddenly attacked, a sword light, straight to Ben's throat.

But Ben had already prepared for the vital part of the throat, and blocked the sword horizontally, taking advantage of the opportunity.

However, Arya's sword was actually a feint. When Ben's sword was blocked, her narrow sword had already sunk, stabbing Ben's lower abdomen. The stab was as fast as starlight and lightning. Ben could no longer block it.

But he heard a sound, Ben's sword sank, as if he had been waiting for Arya's sword.

This was absolutely impossible!

Arya's feint was actually a real move. As long as the other party was a little slower, her feint would become a real move to attack the throat. The other party must really block the throat attack, otherwise the throat would be pierced by the narrow sword. As long as the other party blocked the throat, the lower abdomen would inevitably reveal flaws, and Arya's wrist would sink, and the narrow sword would stab into his lower abdomen.

But the other party seemed to be familiar with her deadly swordsmanship!

In an instant, Arya knew who the other party was.

Both swords were extremely fast, and when the two swords intersected, sparks flew. The narrow sword in Arya's hand turned into starlight, shrouding Ben in starlight. Although Ben was at a disadvantage, he always managed to separate Arya's deadly moves at the most critical moment.

The two swords fought faster and faster. The narrow sword was light and agile, and was good at changes and speed. Once he had the upper hand and gained the first move, the clumsiness of Ben's sword gradually revealed the difference. If he was using a narrow sword, then it would be almost impossible to lose - although he was at a disadvantage in swordsmanship, it would be almost impossible for Arya to kill him. But Ben lost in the weight of the sword. A heavy sword followed a light and agile narrow sword to fight for speed and etherealness, and the difference would only be widened little by little.

After a light ding, Arya's narrow sword was a little faster and pointed at Ben's throat.

Ben's sword was on the periphery and could not go back to rescue.

His sword stood stiffly in the air, and the person stood still, no longer moving, and could no longer move.

"You are dead," Arya said.

"Yes, I am dead."

"You have to teach me the highest level of disguise of the Faceless Men."

"I may not be able to teach you, you are the Elder of the House of Black and White."

"I am an Elder, do you have to listen to my orders?"

"Yes, Elder."

Arya's sword was lowered, and with two soft sounds, the two swords were sheathed.

"I want to know why? The Mountain does not belong to Braavos, his country is in Westeros," Ben said lightly.

"The Seven Elders are dead, they also want me dead, and they have planned to burn down the House of Black and White. After the Iron Bank destroys the House of Black and White, they will rebuild it, and the new House of Black and White will be controlled by the Iron Bank."

"The Iron Bank, the Sea-Lord's Palace, and the House of Black and White, we are allies for thousands of years."

"Thousands of years have passed, nothing is immutable."

"The sudden change is unbelievable, I want to know the reason."

"The arrival of a prophet has changed everything. This prophet is Brynden Rivers, the Bloodraven of the Targaryen family, he has occupied the body of my brother Bran Stark and dominates his soul."

Ben fell into silence.

"You can distrust me, distrust the Mountain, but you cannot distrust the Many-Faced God, the God of Death, and the Red God," Arya's tone turned cold, "Brother, all men must die."

"All men must serve," Ben said hoarsely.

"Go to the Temple of the Many-Faced God to pray, and in front of the dragon crystal candles, you will receive peace and enlightenment. Change has come, this is the rule itself, whether you can accept it or not, everything can no longer return."

"Even so, when did the Elder of the House of Black and White become a personal guard of a king?"

"I am not the Mountain's personal guard now, but I am responsible for his safety."

"No secular king can afford to hire an Elder of the House of Black and White. A king has to pay a huge price to hire an ordinary Faceless Man."

"Brother, the Mountain is here to save me."

"But what I saw was that he captured Braavos."

"The Sea-Lord wanted to kill him, so he killed the Sea-Lord."

"Then what about the Iron Bank?"

"The Iron Bank also wants him dead."

"If the Mountain had no plans to attack Braavos, the Iron Bank and the Sea-Lord's Palace would not have been persuaded by the prophet."

"The Mountain will bring more advanced science, better trade, and more wealth to Braavos. He is the Lightbringer, the chosen son of the Red God."

Ben fell into silence again.

"Brother, don't you trust me?"

"The Elder of the House of Black and White cannot be reduced to working for a man named the Mountain."

"I am not working for the Mountain."

"Look at you now, staying up late at night to investigate the secrets of another assassin for the Mountain."

"Brother, will you listen to the orders of the Elder of the House of Black and White or not?"

"Yes!"

"Then come back to the House of Black and White with me, I have something important to tell you."

"What is it?"

Arya didn't answer and hurried away.

Ben stood there, watching Arya disappear into the night.

He was the senior brother who taught Arya the skills of the Faceless Men in place of the Seven Elders. He was once named: Jaqen H'ghar.

*

It was already dawn.

But the new King, the Mountain, was still fast asleep.

Although it was the first night sleeping in the Sea-Lord's Palace, there was no doubt that the Mountain slept very sweetly.

He had been fighting all day yesterday: killing the Sea-Lord's three hundred guards; attacking the islands of the Iron Bank; recruiting Vinsen, the commander-in-chief of the Braavosi navy, and holding the first political conference... He was indeed tired.

With the help of dragons and Daenerys, the Mountain only spent one day to take down the Braavos city-state.

Dragons are unmatched, and the Mountain is unmatched.

Unmatched, the motto of the Mountain family!

Several maesters waited outside His Majesty the King's door.

Daenerys personally knocked on the Mountain's door.

"Who is it?" The Mountain's voice was still so powerful, it sounded like he was not sleeping, but had actually woken up.

"Your Majesty, your Governor of Braavos has arrived."

"Tyrion Lannister has arrived?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

The door opened, and the Mountain appeared. He had indeed put on his clothes.

The early-rising Mountain, was he thinking about something alone in the room?

"Where is Tyrion?"

"In the hall, Your Majesty."

"Did he come alone?"

"Yes, alone."

A moment later, the Mountain and Daenerys arrived at the throne hall, followed by seven maesters and Generals Ian and Steven Clegane.

The Mountain saw the Little Imp, dressed neatly and with his hair combed meticulously.

The Little Imp looked clean and tidy, and dressed nobly.

"Tyrion, it seems you have been carefully decorated."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Tyrion Lannister knelt on one knee, "Your Majesty, I have returned, to serve you, without regrets for life or death."

After experiencing the downfall, the Little Imp recognized the situation and made a wise choice. He himself was not confused, but was confused by emotional fluctuations, thinking that he should stay away from the Mountain and live a happy life from then on. But the experience in Exeter made his reason and wisdom return and wake up. He also knew that with his height and martial arts, it would be difficult to live a carefree life in the complex world outside.

Even Jaime with one hand is ten times better than him.

Here on the narrow sea, the Lannister name was of no help to him. Even the most wretched beggar held no reverence for the Lannister name.

“Tyrion Lannister, are you willing to be the Governor of Braavos, and manage this free trade city for me?”

“In the name of the gods, I will do my utmost to serve Your Majesty, and dare not slacken in the slightest, nor dare to be partial.”

An Unsullied soldier ran in, holding a letter: “Your Majesty, a letter from Commander Vincent.”