Game of Thrones: From a deserter to a high-ranking official

Chapter 5: Storytelling, the Feast, the Second Sons' Group, and Lisanro Rogar

"What do you mean, Tiberius?" Jules frowned. "Your analysis makes a lot of sense, so I'm going to try to salvage the situation now! While he's still here..."

"Uncle!" Tiberius was also getting anxious. "But isn't it too late to talk to Lord Lisandro now? The timing is too awkward, and it doesn't suit your temperament!"

"Think about it yourself. When you signed contracts with your employers, didn't you always first consult legal scholars to study the terms, then give your decision three days later, and finally announce the contract's validity in the name of the Seven Gods?"

"You just rejected Lord Lisangzhuo's request, and then immediately agreed to the contract. I'm afraid Lord Lisangzhuo will become suspicious!"

Tiberius essentially summed it up in one sentence: Uncle, this isn't like you.

"So..." Jules frowned and sat back down in his seat.

"Yes, we need a reason, a starting point."

"For example?"

"Vito," Tiberius said, turning to Vito. "Did the cooks say there's a banquet tonight? Very well, then I'd like you to deliver an invitation to Lord Lisandro and ask if he would do me the honor of attending the White Legion's banquet tonight!"

"Tiberius, why is this?" Jules asked, frowning. "How does it relate to the banquet?"

For Le, a contract was a very serious matter. He needed to find a scholar who was truly skilled in legal documents and then sign the contract under the witness of the gods.

Rhys's banquet... well, it had absolutely nothing to do with seriousness or solemnity.

While Westeros in the original books is very open-minded, with brothels and bastards everywhere, the mercenaries in Rhys prefer playing with young boys and girls to women!

This was unbearable for most of the White Legion mercenaries from Westeros.

The locals of Rhys also held the Westeros in contempt, believing that they had no idea what true "youthful beauty" was, and the brothel staff would tell lewd jokes to criticize the Westeros for being too docile—because most of the mercenaries from Westeros dared not indulge in pleasure with boys.

In short, prostitution and chastity are commonplace here.

Of course, whether the people of Westeros truly felt that the land of controversy had fallen into moral decay, or whether they had tasted the bitterness of the past and were now unable to resist...

It's hard to say, it's hard to say.

"It's simple. Banquets are always about drinking and having fun, and people tend to speak their minds then. And because of your reputation as a 'trustworthy man,' he knows you would never break your promise… therefore, a banquet is the perfect time to sign a contract," Tiberius explained to his uncle. "Of course, we won't be looking for a male consort…"

"Tsk, although there are no male companions... I mean, a banquet is still a place of indulgence, and it sounds like I'm using my reputation as something to be mortgaged." Jules frowned.

[Actually, it's Uncle Startup Capital. It's time to put your reputation to good use after all this time.] Tiberius thought to himself, but he certainly wouldn't say it aloud.

"But what you said makes a lot of sense. So, Vito, go and write a letter. I sincerely hope that Lord Lisandro will grace us with his presence at our banquet tonight. I hope this won't disappoint him too much, since even his home-cooked meals at his own residence are certainly much better than the main courses at our poor mercenaries' feast," Jules concluded.

As a veteran mercenary, he knew one thing well: once a decision was made, it should be done quickly.

This caused Tiberius to glance at Vito with considerable shock.

Good heavens, Vito, you look like someone who can't read a single word, someone who wouldn't recognize a single character if a carrying pole fell to the ground, and you can actually write?

It is well known that the average level of education in Westeros is at the level of prenatal education, and most lords are even illiterate. So how could Vito write?

Seven Gods! I never would have guessed that someone with such thick eyebrows and big eyes like you would be a scholar?

(Yes, literacy rates in Westeros are shockingly low. In the original books, during the Dance of the Dragons, Boros Baratheon, the Duke of Storm's End, needed his maester to read his letters aloud to him... and this was one of the dukes of the Seven Kingdoms.)

Vito, however, pointed to Tiberius. "Then Tiberius will come with me to deliver the message."

Why?

Vito retorted confidently, "Commander, haven't you noticed? After Tiberius was hit on the back of the head with an oar by the Ironborn, that brat's mouth is sharper than his javelin!"

"I'm not good with words. What am I supposed to say if Lord Lisandro asks for the details? Am I supposed to say: 'Last night, the Lord was hungry, the Commander was hungry, and everyone in the White Legion was hungry. We ate together?' Only Tiberius, that little devil, can do that; he's got a silver tongue!"

Jules' serious old face faltered for a moment, but he quickly composed himself.

“Then let’s go,” he said. “Bringing Tiberius along is a good thing; let him see what a real wealthy family is like! When we get back to Westeros, his experiences in Essos will be enough for the innkeeper to give him a glass of ale!”

"Maybe the boss's daughter will let Tiberius deflower her tonight!" Vito's face revealed a strange, almost lewd expression. "And considering this brat's face... tsk tsk tsk! They'd probably be fighting over Tiberius's bed!"

“Speaking of which, you’ve reminded me, Vito,” Jules said, looking at Tiberius. “He killed the Ironborn and earned his nickname, ‘Lightning.’ Now that Tiberius is a man, it’s certainly time to put marriage on the agenda…”

"Enough, Vito, your task now is to hurry up and write the letter, or Lord Lisandro will have to eat early!" Tiberius quickly interrupted.

Having worked on construction sites for many years, he deeply understands the pain of his parents pressuring him to get married.

But now that we're in the Game of Thrones world, why are we still being pressured to get married?

Seven Gods!

However, my plan has already been achieved. Tiberius thought to himself with secret delight.

From the very beginning, he had no intention of going to the battlefield of Valanthi—he hadn't lived enough! How could he die now?

However, his uncle, who was also the commander of the White Legion, was stubborn and inflexible, so he had no chance to escape.

Moreover, his desertion was so different from Tiberius's original personality that it easily aroused suspicion.

Lisanzhuo's appearance gave him this opportunity.

If finding Lisangzhuo's daughter can impress him, he can then use the opportunity to pledge his loyalty and become Lisangzhuo's confidant...

No, for Tiberius, even being a simple family servant, or being kept in the mansion as a decoration, was better than going to the front lines!

Tiberius had already imagined his own face:

Tiberius has wandered for half his life, only regretting that he has not met a wise ruler. If Lord Lisandro does not abandon me, I am willing to become his godfather!

From this day forward, I will go through fire and water without hesitation!

It wasn't that Tiberius was cowardly; it was simply because swords have no eyes, and arrows and stones are merciless.

Once you're on the battlefield, even if you're a time traveler, a single blow from a mercenary will leave you nothing more than another piece of rotten flesh!

Moreover, although Tiberius had awakened his own system, he himself had not yet figured out what the function of this cheat system was.

Moreover, he was new to the area and had not yet established a personal guard who was absolutely loyal to him. He was just a legionary servant who had just killed someone, and he was only twelve years old.

Given this, what's the difference between going to the battlefield and being cannon fodder?

At four o'clock in the afternoon, Tiberius and Vito boarded the mercenary group's own carriage and headed to Lisandro Rogal's private residence.

Tiberius sat in the carriage, looking out at the city of Lys.

Lys was once a colony of the ancient Valyrian Freehold, where many Valyrians settled after the cataclysmic event. Therefore, most of its inhabitants have silver-blonde hair, light-colored eyes, and fair skin. The city's buildings are predominantly white, light gray, and pink, interspersed with palm trees and tall trees as accents.

However, Tiberius also noticed that there were now many more people on the streets carrying swords and wearing leather or chainmail.

"There are more and more mercenaries..." Vito frowned, looking out of the carriage. "Ries really went all out this time! The water dancers of Braavos, the heavy axemen of Kohol... and the Second Sons, damn it!"

When Vito saw the broken sword insignia of the Second Sons printed on a mercenary's coat, he frowned in disgust.

"What happened to them?"

"These infamous guys are completely different from our White Legion. They only care about money and will retreat once they suffer heavy casualties... and they hate us."

"Hate us? Why?" Tiberius seemed somewhat surprised.

Vito grinned: "The disputed territory is only so big. If you take more orders from big clients, others won't get any."

Because of the reputation of our leader, Jules the Keeper of the Promise, some major clients are willing to postpone their appointments for weeks or even months just to contact our White Legion!

"So they resented us, thinking we stole their business," Tiberius concluded.

"That's right," Jules praised, though a hint of apprehension also lingered on his face.

"If you encounter them again, stay far away. After all, they outnumber you and are ruthless!"

"Vito, we've arrived at the side gate of Lord Lisandro's residence." The coachman turned around. "One silver coin, thank you for your patronage."

"I'll take care of your grandma's legs!" Vito laughed and cursed. "We're all from the same legion, why are you asking me for money? I'll buy you drinks next time!"

When Tiberius alighted from the carriage, a rather thin young man dressed in a magnificent gold-threaded robe emerged from the side door carrying an account book, then paused for a moment.

Tiberius, what brings you here?