The residents of Oldtown, along with the nobles and knights of the Riverlands, rejoiced—the most prestigious, ambitious, and feared leader of the Ironborn, King Balon, was dead!
The Iron Islands were now fractured. His only son, Theon, had been flayed, and Asha, being a woman, could not inherit the throne. His "useless" brother, Euron, had unexpectedly initiated the ancient and brutal Kingsmoot. The great nobles of the Iron Islands were restless, each harboring ambitions for the Seastone Chair.
In short, the Ironborn were finished. Oldtown was safe. Now, they could happily enjoy the tournament!
In light of this great news, "Laughter" Baelor waved his hand and doubled the champion's prize from 8,000 gold dragons to 20,000, while even the runner-up would receive 10,000 gold dragons.
The knights erupted in excitement. People sang and danced, feasting and celebrating without pause.
Dany, however, was puzzled. "It's only been a little over four months—how did Euron manage a second expedition to Valyria and then sail across the vast ocean back to the Iron Islands in such a short time?"
The old knight was equally bewildered. "I thought he was still drifting in the Summer Sea. But it doesn't matter—he won't change the situation. With Balon dead, the Ironborn will be too consumed by internal strife to be a threat. The Riverlands are finally safe."
Dany looked at him in shock. "No way. Others may not know, but don't you understand how ruthless Euron is?"
The old knight shook his head and sighed. "Ruthlessness doesn't equate to prestige. He's been away from the Iron Islands for nearly three years—who still remembers him? Besides, he's not the only male Greyjoy left. No one will submit to him; otherwise, he wouldn't need a Kingsmoot."
"What exactly is a Kingsmoot?" Dany asked.
"It's a gathering of all the captains of the Iron Islands' longships, where they vote to elect a new Iron King."
"That sounds like a rather advanced system," Dany remarked, even more confused.
"Ha! Humans have a way of turning even the most advanced systems into something more barbaric than the Dothraki. In past Kingsmoots, some have ambushed their rivals with crossbowmen, slaughtering all other candidates. Some, upon being elected, immediately wiped out the entire family of the previous king…"
Dany paused for a moment before saying, "Knowing Euron's character, would he really engage in something he's not confident about? It's possible that he was the one who killed Balon in the first place, using the Kingsmoot to legitimize himself as the true Iron King."
"Even if that's the case, it would take him six months to a year to consolidate power. By then, the main army of the Riverlands and the fleet from the Arbor would have returned from King's Landing.
With the overwhelming strength of the Reach, it won't matter whether the Ironborn unite under Euron or not."
They didn't reach an agreement regarding Euron, but after lunch, they headed to Arena 44, where the mysterious knight known as "Batman" was making his official debut.
With a single clash, Dany delivered a powerful thrust—"Bang!"
Her lance shattered her opponent's left arm, breaking the bone beneath the shield. With a scream, the man tumbled off his horse.
The mysterious knight, Batman, advanced to the next round.
Then, the two of them went to watch the matches at the main arena.
After observing for a while, Dany suddenly noticed something—the main arena had many competitors, yet they hadn't even finished the first round.
In contrast, she, as a hedge knight, had already fought two rounds, eliminating three-quarters of her competitors. Meanwhile, in the noblemen's division, they had barely completed the first round, with less than half eliminated.
The disparity in elimination rates between the two competitions was staggering.
"I was too naive," Dany said angrily. "I thought that with the nobles having all the attention, they would at least lower their advancement rate. I never expected them to be this shameless."
She had initially believed that nobles would fight among themselves in one arena, leaving the majority of the final contenders as free riders and hedge knights.
"Everyone knows this," the old knight replied indifferently.
If nobles didn't receive special treatment, why would people fight so hard to become nobles in the first place?
Reality was even harsher than Dany had imagined.
The next day, she fought in both the morning and afternoon matches. By this point, after four consecutive rounds of elimination matches, only one-sixteenth of the hedge knights remained—about 140 riders out of over 2,200.
Meanwhile, the more than 300 noble knights had yet to complete even their first round.
It wasn't until the morning of the third day, when Dany advanced to the fifth round, that the nobles finally finished their first matches. Now, 150 noble competitors remained.
All contestants were granted half a day's rest, and starting on the fourth day, the remaining 220 knights—nobles and hedge knights alike—would compete together in the main arena.
Finally, Dany would have the chance to showcase her skills before an actual audience!
She could also move her tent into the main camp.
That afternoon, the entire camp erupted in celebration.
Fat, juicy roast cattle turned slowly over bonfires, their sizzling drippings filling the air with the rich aroma of garlic and pepper.
Handsome bards played lutes and sang as crowds gathered around. Theater troupes set up stages, performing plays like The Dance of Blood and Fire, Jenny of Oldstones and Prince Duncan, The Fool Florian and Jonquil, and The Dragon Knight and Queen Naerys—all classic tales of knights and romance.
Knights hosted lavish feasts inside their tents, while young squires rushed back and forth at their beck and call, carrying barrels of ale and clearing empty plates.
Kitchen hands worked together to carry in whole roasted chickens and golden-brown lambs, while thinly clad women in colorful dresses laughed among themselves as they were led into the tents by eager attendants.
Nearly every tent displayed one or more shields outside, bearing the sigils of the noble families within—
The stepped white tower of Oldtown, the golden rose of House Tyrell, the grape cluster of House Redwyne, the golden sheaves of the Harvest Hall, the sharp-horned black bull skull of Blackcrown, the black rose and chalice of the Three Towers, and the black-and-orange butterflies of Highgarden.
Of course, someone also set up three lances and a shield outside their tent, painted with the symbol of a black bat.
The old knight didn't understand this emblem at all. Displeased, he deliberately painted it to resemble Blackfyre.
"Is Ser Batman inside?"
After lunch, Dany was deep in meditation, entering a draconic state with Drogon. Suddenly, a squire's voice called from outside the tent.
Drogon had already returned to Westeros two days ago.
Others only knew that Dany could command the black dragon, but they were unaware of the details regarding Dragon's Spirit. Jorah had written a letter, tied it to Big Black's leg, and sent it over.
In fact, Dany knew more about the current situation in Slaver's Bay than Jorah. Big Black had specifically scouted the area around Slaver's Bay and New Ghis.
The allied forces still had no intention of launching an attack. That made sense—Qohor's dragon-slaying ballistae were not yet completed.
After forming a meditation vortex in her mind, Big Black seemed to undergo some kind of beneficial mutation. His magic and stamina increased significantly, and his top speed improved by nearly twenty percent. It took him only thirty hours to return to Oldtown.
There was another surprise for Dany. When she entered the Dragon's Spirit state, she could meditate alongside Big Black. The nine-colored vortexes of both rotated at the same frequency, and her sorcerous power grew at more than twice the previous rate.
—It was as if Big Black was helping her level up.
Thus, whenever she had free time, she would meditate with Big Black.
Dany sat cross-legged on a bamboo mat, motionless. The old knight, understanding the situation, lifted the tent flap and stepped outside to converse with the attendants.
About fifteen minutes later, he returned, carrying an unpolished oak wine barrel, and reported, "Milady, Ser Garth has invited you to a banquet."
"For what?" Dany asked curiously.
"Not just you—he has invited all seventy mercenary riders who have made it to the final round. Because of the Ironborn situation, Ser Baelor intends to establish the 'Oldtown Fleet,' while Ser Garth is responsible for recruiting the city guard. Any rider who has made it through five elimination rounds is at least capable of becoming a cavalry squad leader."
"You refused?"
The old knight placed the barrel before Dany, sat back in his seat, and nodded. "I simply said that you are currently the 'Mysterious Knight' and that you intend to maintain this identity until the tournament ends. The attendants understood and even gifted you a barrel of Arbor Gold."
Bang, bang, bang! Someone knocked on the shield standing outside the tent, followed by a voice calling, "Is the Batman Knight here?"
"Who?" The old knight stood up as he asked.
"I'm a betting slip recorder from 'Four Corners Gambling Hall'—"
The old knight immediately sat back down and interrupted, "Go away. We don't gamble."
The errand runner did not leave and continued, "Ser Knight, you don't have to gamble. We also purchase information on tournament participants at high prices."
Dany was still puzzled when the old knight angrily shouted, "We will win! We will win! Absolutely no match-fixing!"
The person outside muttered a few curses under his breath before leaving.
"'Selling information' is a gambling hall's code for match-fixing?" Dany asked curiously.
"The only real information they buy is about fighters planning to lose. What's the point of anything else? Everyone knows people like Earl Garland and Ser Baelor. Everyone has seen them fight. But does knowing that help you defeat them?"
Good point.
"Actually, we can bet on my victory. Tomorrow, take a hundred gold dragons and test the waters."
The next morning, the sky was clear and the sun was warm.
Outside Oldtown, along the Yellow Dirt Road, stood the main tournament arena.
When the announcer called out, "The Mysterious Knight—Batman!" Dany, filled with excitement, rode forward to the northern track of the arena.
"Batman? Hahaha! He's so small, so ugly—a little bat!" The crowd immediately burst into laughter.
Compared to the burly, fortress-like knights, Dany appeared thin and frail.
It was no wonder her high-quality armor had only sold for two gold dragons. It was too small for adults, and young squires were still growing. Spending two gold dragons on armor that wouldn't fit for ten generations was hardly worth it.
Well, for a knight, passing down armor for a hundred or two hundred years was perfectly normal.
According to the White Knight, the enchanted bronze helm of Bronze Yohn from Runestone had been passed down from ancestors five thousand years ago.
When Dany took the lance and shield from the White Knight, the laughter grew louder. The long lance looked comically oversized in her slender, upright frame, giving the impression that her small hands would soon lose their grip on the wooden shaft.
"Which noble house does this boy belong to? Is he trying to imitate 'The Fearless' Ser Barristan?" Some seasoned spectators quickly picked up on a few details about Dany. "Though his armor is jet black and unevenly colored, there's not a trace of rust, and it's structurally complete with no signs of patchwork. His black stallion is a first-rate steed—worth at least three gold dragons. And his knight's lance… damn, that's extravagant! It's made from Summer Isles goldenheart wood—one lance alone costs three silver stags. Even the Kingslayer wasn't this wasteful!"
Upon this revelation, the surrounding spectators began to ponder which noble family's sigil might be associated with a black bat.
Knights participating in jousting tournaments could use the white birch lances provided by the organizers or bring their own.
Although all wooden lances would eventually shatter from high-impact collisions, different types of wood had varying levels of durability.
Goldenheart wood from the Summer Isles was the best material for bows and also the finest choice for jousting lances.
The announcer called out, "From the Hightower, Earl Arstan Selmy!"
(End of Chapter)
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