Blood of the Dragonlords

The dragonlord families had vanished with the Doom of Valyria, but who could say no survivors had endured?

Otherwise, how could petrified dragon eggs have hatched in Ronan's hands?

As for Daenerys, whom Illyrio had ignored, he dismissed her involvement by habit. From the beginning, Ronan's manner had made it seem as though he knew exactly how to hatch dragon eggs.

An ordinary man could not have survived such heat.

Dragon blood did not make a person immune to fire. Plenty of those born of dragonlords had died in flame. One who could survive inside the fire, however, had to be a true dragonrider.

That was the greatest difference between dragonlord blood and ordinary bloodlines. For the mysterious Ronan, no explanation satisfied Illyrio except descent from a dragonlord family.

Ronan would never have guessed that others had begun treating him as the heir of ancient dragonlords. Still, the misunderstanding was useful. It explained many of his otherwise impossible advantages.

Faced with such a Ronan, Magister Illyrio and the men around him knelt again without hesitation.

"Illyrio Mopatis is willing to serve the great Lord Ronan. Pentos will be yours to command forever."

Such decisive allegiance did not move Ronan too deeply. He understood the nature of merchants. Illyrio and his like followed profit.

Their loyalty might be sincere, but it was also practical. Even so, Ronan could not resist checking his status panel.

[System]
Name: Ronan Harrow
Class: Dragonrider
Weapons: Arming Sword, Bow, Spear, Dagger
Talent: Conquest (An unpredictable talent with a chance to inspire absolute loyalty and infatuation in the target.)
Skills: Advanced Combat, Survival Mastery, Master of the Forge, Mounted Archery
Summoned Units: Mongol Cavalry (one thousand-man unit), Jomsviking Warband (1,600 warriors)
Sworn Followers: Jebe (Mongol Hero), Toki Haraldsson (Viking Hero), Khal Sido and his warriors, Khal Drogo and 100,000 Dothraki warriors, Daenerys Targaryen, Magister Illyrio Mopatis
Divergence Points: 21,564
Repeatable Summons: Mongol Cavalry - 160,000 Divergence Points per thousand-man unit; fallen soldiers can be replenished at 100 points each. Jomsviking Warband - no Divergence Points required; self-replenishing.

The newly gained points no longer surprised Ronan. If anything, they felt a little low.

Daenerys had told him of Viserys's death. That useless prince had died at a handmaid's hands, which was a fitting end to his legendary life.

When Ronan saw Illyrio Mopatis listed among his sworn followers, his gaze went straight to the magister.

Below him, Illyrio grew tense. He did not know what flaw Ronan had found in his oath. Had it been too sudden, or not thorough enough? He decided to risk more.

"Lord Ronan, there are some matters I would like to discuss with you privately."

"Oh? Secrets?"

Seeing that Ronan had no intention of dismissing the others, Illyrio smiled cautiously and offered a single phrase.

"The eight-legged spider."

Those familiar with it would understand at once. Those unfamiliar might think he meant an insect. Ronan belonged to the former group.

He had thought Illyrio would choose to keep that hidden. He had not expected the magister to show such nerve and speak of it before others.

Ronan looked at him and said only, "I accept your sincerity. I hope your partner maintains the same respect."

Illyrio froze. He had said almost nothing. How did Ronan know? Before he could test further, Ronan ended the feast. The guests began to leave, and Illyrio was left full of doubt.

He had offered a deeply satisfying gift and even his loyalty, yet all he felt was fear.

At least Lord Ronan had not refused his service. That eased Illyrio somewhat. But the meaning inside Ronan's parting words forced him to think carefully.

There would be a world before this night, and a world after it. Illyrio thought of his old friend far away in King's Landing. This news had to reach him quickly.

The idea behind the spider's web had come from that friend, then slowly become reality. For Lord Ronan to expose the core of their rise in a single sentence was terrifying.

Illyrio was grateful he had chosen in time. Otherwise, peace would never have waited for him. He had seen ambition in Ronan's eyes.

Ambition stronger than that of the Targaryen Conqueror. Dragons and an army were now both in Ronan's hands. What came next?

Illyrio did not dare imagine it. Something so difficult had been solved with such apparent ease. Perhaps that was what a true conqueror required.

Thinking of a certain pitiful prince, Illyrio felt almost laughably foolish for ever staking anything on a prince that worthless.

That night, in his tent, Illyrio slept little and poorly.

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