King's Landing bustled with activity.
On Rhaenys's Hill, inside the ruined Dragonpit, golden banners fluttered proudly above rows of tents and construction sites.
The quartered royal banner burned like a living flame. It displayed the crowned black stag with a warhammer, the three red dragons, the gray wolf pack, and the blue-and-white figure breaking free from shattered chains.
The Dragonpit was unimaginably vast.
Occupying an entire hill, it dwarfed both the Red Keep and the Great Sept of Baelor. Legends claimed that nearly one hundred thousand people had gathered there for Aegon II's coronation. While that number was certainly exaggerated, the Dragonpit was large enough to accommodate an enormous crowd.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Under the cool autumn sky, the ancient ruin had become a massive construction site.
The sounds of hammers, chisels, and saws echoed endlessly through the enormous structure.
Workers cleared away rubble while teams of stonemasons prepared the foundations for magnificent new halls.
Carpenters, masons, soldiers wearing the four-colored dragon-stag emblem, and knights bearing the sigil of the Knight of Flowers moved busily through the site.
Some carried timber.
Others pushed carts loaded with stone.
Many hauled ropes to remove the collapsed sections of the Dragonpit.
The greatest challenge was the massive dome overhead.
After centuries of decay, it had become dangerously unstable.
Small catapults were being used to break apart the weakened structure before workers gradually cleared away the enormous piles of debris.
---
Standing outside the construction site, Gendry observed everything alongside an envoy from the Iron Bank of Braavos.
Today, Gendry wore a black leather vest beneath a coat of black chainmail.
An Orphan-Maker longsword and a dagger hung at his waist, while a golden cloak rested over one shoulder.
Beside him stood Naho Dimitris, the Braavosi envoy.
Dressed in a tall purple felt hat, Naho watched the bustling scene with open admiration.
"It's truly remarkable," he said.
"I've never seen soldiers rebuilding a city before."
Lord Randyll Tarly, bald and gaunt, smiled proudly.
He wore chainmail reinforced with boiled leather beneath a gray steel breastplate.
The greatsword Heartsbane rested across his back.
"His Highness's soldiers are different."
"Most armies prefer drinking, gambling, and chasing women whenever they aren't fighting."
"I don't allow idleness."
---
The difference lay in how Gendry organized his armies.
The standing army he had trained in the Triarchy consisted entirely of disciplined professionals who received regular pay.
He also intended to recruit soldiers throughout the Stormlands, while the Unsullied from Astapor would form another elite legion.
Most armies in Westeros, however, were very different.
Lords brought their household knights and guards.
The rest of their forces consisted of farmers, craftsmen, and merchants hastily conscripted from their lands whenever war broke out.
---
"It is an honor to witness all this," Naho said sincerely.
"But I noticed some of your workers are disabled soldiers."
"They're helping with the construction as well."
Gendry nodded.
"We're building a new hall specifically for them."
"The surrounding buildings will house disabled veterans and homeless soldiers."
"It will be called the King's Landing Veterans' Hall."
Naho's eyes brightened.
"You are truly compassionate."
"Once the Lannisters are defeated, this war should finally come to an end."
Gendry smiled faintly.
"I wish it were that simple."
"The Seven Kingdoms still need to be unified."
"And neither the Lannisters nor the Iron Islands should be underestimated."
He paused before changing the subject.
"I heard Volantis recently suffered another defeat."
"Has that changed opinions in Braavos?"
Naho bowed politely.
"That is beyond my authority."
"I'm merely a humble employee of the Iron Bank."
"My rank isn't high enough to know such matters."
"Still..."
"Braavos was founded by escaped slaves."
"Our people have always opposed anyone seeking to dominate the world."
Gendry nodded knowingly.
Braavos had always favored maintaining a balance of power.
Just as it had opposed Volantis during the Century of Blood, it would naturally be wary of any new empire rising across the Narrow Sea.
"Then I hope Braavos still considers me a friend."
Naho spread his hands with a smile.
"Anyone who repays their debts on time is a friend of the Iron Bank."
"And therefore..."
"A friend of Braavos."
---
The reason for Braavos' cautious attitude was obvious.
Gendry's overwhelming victory on the southern bank of the Blackwater Rush had shocked the Free Cities.
Captured nobles from the Triarchy, Volantis, and Slaver's Bay still remained imprisoned in cages there.
Nearby...
Mass graves held countless slave masters, Volantene nobles, and fallen soldiers.
Even the most shortsighted Braavosi noble could sense that a powerful new force was emerging across the Narrow Sea.
Especially now...
When Braavos itself faced political uncertainty.
The old Sealord was gravely ill.
No successor had yet been chosen.
---
Gendry gestured toward the center of the Dragonpit.
"As you can see..."
"My attention is focused on rebuilding."
"I'd much rather complete the Veterans' Hall than wage another war."
Projecting the image of a ruler devoted to reconstruction served another purpose as well.
Given the delicate relationship between King's Landing and Braavos...
Appearing peaceful was a useful political strategy.
---
Naho nodded.
"This time, I'll collect the repayment of three hundred thousand gold dragons."
"Afterward..."
"The Iron Throne's remaining principal will be seven hundred thousand."
"As for your request for another large loan..."
"I'll need to return to Braavos before any decision can be made."
Normally...
A king asking to borrow more money would have delighted the Iron Bank.
Now, however...
Braavos viewed Gendry with both admiration and caution.
Political circumstances demanded careful consideration.
"Once I receive the payment, I'll leave immediately."
"Most ships currently depart from Maidenpool."
"King's Landing's harbor is still filled with burned wrecks and shattered docks."
Gendry smiled.
"Have a safe journey."
"I hope that next time..."
"You'll be able to depart directly from my rebuilt harbor."
---
As Anguy escorted Naho away, Randyll watched the departing Braavosi thoughtfully.
"They smell like gold coins."
Gendry chuckled.
"Not just the Braavosi."
"All the Free Cities do."
"The difference is their entire system revolves around wealthy merchants."
"Westeros is ruled by landed nobility."
"But now isn't the time to make enemies of every Free City."
Randyll nodded.
Time remained their greatest enemy.
If spending a few thousand gold dragons kept Braavos satisfied...
It was well worth the price.
Their real confrontation would likely come later.
---
"Your Highness," Randyll continued.
"We're desperately short on manpower."
"Even disabled veterans are helping now."
"The harbor also needs clearing."
"It's filled with corpses, wrecked ships, and debris."
"The Gold Cloaks and our disabled soldiers aren't enough."
"My own troops are stretched thin."
"The knights from the Reach and the Vale also need to return home to secure their harvests."
Gendry looked at him.
"Are you thinking about recruiting deserters?"
Randyll nodded.
"Yes."
His expression grew serious.
"Many deserters were simply farmers dragged into war."
"Some fled."
"Some became bandits."
"If we leave them alone..."
"They'll either freeze during winter or prey upon innocent villagers."
"It's better to give them another chance."
---
Gendry considered his proposal before nodding.
"Very well."
"I'll leave the matter to you."
"We'll declare a general amnesty."
"Those who surrender within a limited period and willingly join us will be pardoned."
"But habitual murderers and rapists..."
"They will still face justice."
Randyll bowed respectfully.
"I understand, Your Highness."
Compared to serving Mace Tyrell...
Serving Gendry was far more rewarding.
Many noble lords inherited excellent education and military training.
That gave them the potential to become capable warriors.
Whether they actually achieved greatness depended on talent, discipline, and opportunity.
Mace possessed every advantage imaginable.
Yet he consistently performed poorly in battle and lacked strategic insight.
Ironically...
His sons were far more capable than he had ever been.
If Randyll succeeded in gathering scattered deserters...
Many could become loyal servants of the crown.
The Veterans' Hall would provide both shelter and purpose.
In time...
Those former deserters could become valuable soldiers once again.
---
Gendry offered one final reminder.
"Maintain discipline around the Dragonpit."
"But once winter passes..."
"Show mercy where it's deserved."
"You don't need to enforce military law too harshly."
Randyll nodded.
His discipline had always been notoriously strict.
It reflected the harsh customs of the age.
A common thief might lose a finger.
But if someone stole inside the Great Sept...
Randyll believed seven fingers should be taken instead.
---
Gendry handed him a folded slip of paper.
Randyll read it silently.
Then tore it into tiny pieces.
The message was simple.
King's Landing is about to change.
Anyone who summons you elsewhere is a traitor.
---
The following days passed quickly.
Day One.
The Dragonpit and the Blackwater Rush were cleared.
Workers continued removing rubble and dredging the river.
Randyll's forces camped outside King's Landing.
Day Two.
Construction continued.
Randyll's soldiers moved into military tents within the Red Keep.
Day Three.
The Dragonpit remained a hive of activity.
Gendry openly criticized Lothor and the rat catchers for failing to locate Varys.
Across the Seven Kingdoms, the enormous bounty on the Spider continued to spread.
Day Four.
Several newly arrived maids boldly attempted to seduce the future king.
Gendry merely smiled and ignored them, appearing increasingly comfortable with court life.
He moved into the Tower of the Hand and was often seen drinking in his chambers.
Day Five.
The imprisoned "Pycelle" was released from the wooden cells beside the Blackwater Rush and temporarily placed in charge of the ravens.
Day Six.
Gendry seemed especially fond of the young novice known as "Leilei."
The beautiful girl was frequently seen chatting and laughing beside him throughout the castle.
Little by little...
Everything appeared completely ordinary.
Rumors even spread that Gendry would soon sail for Dragonstone.
It looked as though he had fully settled into life within the Red Keep.
Exactly as planned.
---
Late that night...
The autumn wind howled against the narrow windows like a wild beast.
Inside the Tower of the Hand, Gendry quietly waited.
Tonight, Ser Balon Swann stood guard outside his chambers in place of Ser Barristan.
His squire had also been sent away to rest.
That...
Too...
Was part of the plan.
"Is the Spider really this patient?"
Gendry murmured.
The false "Pycelle" had been deliberately placed as bait.
Now...
He waited.
Suddenly...
A burst of green fire erupted somewhere within King's Landing.
Judging by its location...
It came from Flea Bottom.
The flames rapidly spread.
Cheers...
Screams...
And chaos echoed through the city as emerald fire illuminated the night sky.
Tyene looked toward the blaze in alarm.
"What's happening?"
"Why is Flea Bottom burning?"
Gendry answered calmly.
"Wildfire."
The Mad King had hidden caches of wildfire throughout King's Landing.
Even after years of searching by the Alchemists and Tyrion...
Some forgotten stores inevitably remained.
Gendry rested his hand on Orphan-Maker.
"So..."
"Has the Spider finally made his move?"
---
At that moment...
Ser Balon entered.
"Your Highness."
"It really is wildfire."
"The situation in Flea Bottom is becoming serious."
"The commoners are beginning to panic."
Gendry remained calm.
"For now..."
"We do nothing."
"Lord Randyll's soldiers are stationed close enough at the Dragonpit."
"The other lords' armies are outside the city."
"Stannis commands the northern bank of the Blackwater Rush."
Everything was unfolding exactly according to plan.
---
A servant hurried inside.
"Your Highness."
"A maid serving Grand Maester Pycelle requests your presence."
"She says the Grand Maester wishes to see you immediately."
Gendry smiled faintly.
Instead of armor...
He simply pulled on a robe.
His sword and crossbow remained at his belt.
"He's finally here."
Ser Balon stepped forward.
"Shall I accompany you?"
Gendry waved him away.
"No need."
"I'll return shortly."
"The Kingsguard are already spread thin."
"Stay here and guard the Tower."
---
Descending the stairs, Gendry found a slender maid waiting below.
She silently led him through the dark courtyards of the Red Keep.
Under the moonlight...
Every tower resembled a silent monster.
Having never lived there before...
Gendry still found the castle unfamiliar.
At last...
They reached Pycelle's chambers beneath the rookery.
Normally, the room was warm.
Tonight...
It was unnaturally cold.
The fireplace contained only dying embers.
Dim candles cast weak circles of light across the room.
Everything remained buried in shadow...
Except for the open window.
The instant Gendry stepped inside...
His drunken appearance vanished completely.
His mind became razor sharp.
Whoosh!
A crossbow bolt shot toward his ribs.
Gendry reacted instantly.
He threw himself behind a nearby wall.
The bolt buried itself deep in the stone floor.
Only then did he look toward the table.
"Pycelle" sat motionless behind it.
His head rested against an enormous leather-bound book.
Blood streamed from horrific wounds across his scalp.
The Grand Maester's chain still hung around his neck.
His brains and blood stained both the pages and the melted candle wax.
---
"So..."
"You didn't leave after all."
Gendry slowly drew Orphan-Maker.
Although he had appeared drunk...
His reflexes remained as sharp as ever.
Varys sighed softly.
"The Stormlands truly produce agile warriors."
"But..."
"You'll die here tonight."
He clasped his hands together apologetically.
"I'm truly sorry."
"I know this must surprise you."
"But every performance must eventually reach its final act."
"Allow me to lower the curtain."
The eunuch pursed his lips.
Then let out a soft whistle.
From the surrounding shadows...
More than a dozen pale children emerged.
Varys' Little Birds.
Each carried either a dagger or a crossbow.
The chamber door slammed shut.
---
"Is that all?"
Gendry asked calmly.
Varys smiled.
"You are Robert Baratheon's son."
"Even drunk..."
"You're still dangerous."
"I dislike killing great men this way."
"But I have no alternative."
"Blame your pride."
"Blame your ambition."
Before he could finish speaking...
Crossbow bolts flew through the room.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Suddenly...
A cold female voice echoed through the chamber.
"Open."
At that instant...
"Pycelle's" corpse disappeared.
The blood...
Brains...
And body vanished as though they had never existed.
In their place stood a tall, elegant woman.
She wore the Grand Maester's chain around her neck.
Long-legged...
Slender...
And breathtakingly beautiful.
Melisandre.
Varys' eyes widened in disbelief.
Before he could react...
Gendry rolled behind a towering bookshelf as bolts shattered the wood.
In one swift motion...
He beheaded the maid who had led him there.
Melisandre raised her hand.
"You truly came, you filthy spider."
A cloud of black powder erupted into the air.
The nearest Little Birds inhaled it.
Instantly...
They clutched at their throats.
One after another...
They collapsed lifelessly onto the floor.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)