The underground construction of the Dragon Cult's headquarters was still ongoing, with plans to connect Wright's castle to the headquarters at the ground plaza through tunnels. After touring the headquarters, most of the followers returned to their normal lives, leaving only a few core members behind.
Sansa Stark displayed great interest in Dragon Shout, considering abandoning her studies in both the Skinchanger and Orthodox schools of magic to dedicate herself solely to the Way of the Thu'um.
After consulting her mentors, Renly and Wright, the latter advised her not to forsake other magics entirely. Sansa possessed a refined and studious nature, capable of spending an entire week reading indoors without stepping outside. This patience and endurance made her well-suited for scholarly pursuits. Wright suggested she major in the Way of the Thu'um while minoring in other branches of magic—not only to broaden her knowledge but also to enhance the power of her shouts through accumulated wisdom.
Two days later, the plan to purge R'hllor's followers from Volantis was finalized.
With Dofas ensuring that a comprehensive list of R'hllor's adherents was available, all local followers of the Dragon Cult were required to participate in the operation. Reinforcements from Lys would arrive by ship, while those from Tyrosh—excluding Wright and Renly—would also lend their support, albeit wearing masks.
The purge would leave no survivors among R'hllor's followers, but Wright still worried about potential escapees.
Meanwhile, Tyrosh needed to continue supplying resources to Dorne, and part of the navy would be deployed to maintain order around Myr's waters, preventing desperate individuals from plundering the city's remaining wealth. Engaging in simultaneous conflicts on three fronts would overburden Tyrosh's logistics.
Thus, the religious conflict in Volantis had to remain contained. On the surface, neither Tyrosh nor the Seven Kingdoms could be seen as direct participants in the assault against R'hllor's followers. If the truth emerged in the future, Wright was confident he could handle the religious militia once he had the time.
Troop movements were coordinated via the fleet, and the attack was scheduled for February 14th, AC 301—exactly one month away—coinciding with a major R'hllor celebration, ensuring maximum disruption.
With the Dragon Cult's affairs settled for the moment, Wright prepared to accompany the Tyroshi fleet to Myr.
Before setting sail, he visited the inner-city blacksmiths of Tyrosh alongside Kana Rogare.
The Tyroshi navy procured its equipment from various lords of the Stepstones, while this particular smithy was dedicated to forging arms for Wright's personal guard and city garrison. It was managed by Gendry, who also oversaw its technological advancements.
The smithy was located along the seaward-facing section of the inner city walls, where the strongest ocean winds helped disperse the intense heat from the forges.
Wright and Kana passed through the noisy outer courtyard, filled with the clanging of metalwork, and went straight to Gendry's office at the back.
"Today is the deadline you set. Are the goods ready?"
Gendry, who had been drawing schematics at his desk, looked up. "Ah, Lord Wright and Lady Kana! The items were finished three days ago. Have a look!"
Retrieving a ring of keys, he unlocked the side room, revealing a warehouse filled with neatly stacked large chests.
"No need for that."
Gendry was about to light a brazier when Wright stopped him, casting a Mage Light spell against the wall. He opened the nearest chest, and under the pure magical glow, a golden radiance shone forth—newly minted Gold Dragons.
Wright picked up a handful, passing some to Kana Rogare. The two examined the coins closely.
"How much is here in total?" Kana asked.
Gendry retrieved a small leather notebook from his belt and flipped through the records. "There are exactly 3.1 million newly minted Gold Dragons, 7 million Silver Stags, along with 200 gold ingots, 600 silver ingots, and 1,000 copper ingots. Other materials such as iron, lead, and tin have already been sold, and the proceeds have been delivered to Treasurer Count Gunthor."
"Gunthor reported to me yesterday," Wright replied.
Kana took Gendry's ledger, meticulously verifying the figures. After a moment, she nodded at Wright. "The numbers match my calculations. Everything checks out."
"Good." Wright patted Gendry's shoulder.
There had been no embezzlement—Gendry, Gunthor, and the smiths involved in the minting had passed this particular test.
Taking an old Gold Dragon from his pocket, Wright compared it to the new ones. Aside from the difference in age and slight wear on the older coin's edges, the composition, color, and hardness were identical.
Gold Dragons weren't made of pure gold—they contained other metals for durability and ease of circulation. Silver Stags followed a similar principle.
Through bonds and financial maneuvers, Wright had effectively drained Myr of its accumulated wealth over the past several months. Some of the money had been converted into raw materials, while the rest had been transported to Tyrosh.
Counterfeiting currency was a serious crime. Yet Wright had no choice but to mint his own.
Westeros used gold dragons, silver stags, and copper stars as currency, while each of the Nine Free Cities had its own distinct coinage. Myr's currency was oval-shaped, embossed with the image of a ship. These coins had a questionable origin, and if Wright wanted to distance himself from any connection to Myr, he had to erase all traces. Thus, all the money brought back from Myr was to be melted down and reforged.
Wright had no intention of circulating these coins in the Seven Kingdoms. Even though they were made of precious metals, an influx of such a large quantity of currency would cause temporary economic turmoil. Instead, the money would return to where it came from. This time, in Myr, Wright planned to buy their land using "their" own money.
He idly toyed with two gold dragons, letting them clink together with a crisp ringing sound. After a moment, he spoke again. "Kana, from now on, you will truly be called Kana. That unpleasant alias of yours will remain a mystery forever."
Kana reached out again, hugging Wright's arm and pressing herself against him. "Do I need to hide in the Tyroshi castle for a while?"
Despite her best effort, she wasn't very strong. Wright effortlessly pried her arms away and lifted her by the shoulders, placing her on top of a crate. "Of course, I must ensure the safety of those who have served me well. Right now, my castle is the safest place for you. Once the situation calms down, you can reappear. However, you'll need to change your hair color and attire. The way you look now is far too conspicuous."
Standing atop the crate, Kana now towered over Wright. She leaned down slightly, her breath warm against his face. "You don't care about me at all! I only look like this when I'm in Tyrosh. In Myr, I wear heavy makeup, dark brows, and a black wig!"
"Oh."
Kana wriggled back and forth, unwilling to let him go just yet.
Gendry, watching their playful exchange, didn't dare leave. He stood facing them but made an exaggerated effort to turn his head away as if he had seen nothing—his pretense as obvious as could be.
"Gendry! That set of armor—is it for Ashara?" Wright, noticing Gendry lingering awkwardly, deliberately changed the topic to him.
Against the warehouse wall, a wooden mannequin bore a suit of women's armor. Wright had personally crafted a black set for Ashara, knowing her exact measurements. With his keen eye, he immediately recognized that the silver-white armor before him was of similar size. It was adorned with carvings of falling stars and long swords.
"Uh… ahh…"
That set of armor had been hidden in the most secluded part of the warehouse, unknown even to the smiths in the forge. Gendry hadn't expected Wright to spot it at a glance. Flustered, he struggled to respond.
"Ahh, what? I'm asking if it is for her." Sitting atop the crate, Kana perked up at the revelation of a potential romantic link, her interest piqued. Seeing that she was no longer pestering him, Wright pressed Gendry further.
Bathed in the glow of magelight, Gendry's tanned skin couldn't hide the deep flush spreading across his face. He scratched his head awkwardly. "She came to me once to repair her armor, so I memorized her measurements… I made this set intending to give it to her."
"Then you'd better work hard! Ashara is already a Lady, the famed Sword of the Morning of the Seven Kingdoms! Meanwhile, you're still a commoner, not even knighted yet. The opportunities I've given you to rise in rank—you better make the most of them!"
Thinking about Ashara's notorious temper gave Wright a headache.
Carrying the title of his "first and most talented disciple", she was a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield, earning her noble title and reputation through sheer strength. But now, at nearly nineteen, she had grown even more formidable. In her younger years, noble suitors had courted her, but as her status and fierceness increased, they all withdrew one by one, intimidated by her violent tendencies.
With her father in the North and her mother long deceased, it fell upon Wright to concern himself with her marriage prospects.
Full of energy, fond of drinking, and quick to resort to violence—if there was no man who could tame Ashara, then perhaps she should tame someone instead. And perhaps only the honest and straightforward Gendry could endure her. Judging by his reaction, though, it seemed to be one-sided—Ashara likely hadn't even noticed his feelings yet.
"Lord Wright, I'll do my best!" Gendry, reassured by the lack of disapproval, answered eagerly.
Wright released Kana, walked up to Gendry, and gave his arm a firm squeeze. "Besides smithing, you'd better start training in combat more seriously. Otherwise, if you keep getting beaten up and need mages to heal you every few days, even your sturdy frame won't last forever."
Gendry looked confused. "But I'm already really strong!"
"Hah, that depends on who you're comparing yourself to," Kana chimed in.
Gendry wasn't sure if she was referring to Ashara or a mage, but when Wright caught her gaze, he was certain—she meant him.
"Take stock of the inventory. Half of these crates go to the castle, the other half are being loaded onto the ship for Myr today," Wright ordered, shifting focus back to business.
---
In Tyrosh, Renly oversaw the development of magic wands while Tyene acted as the temporary ruler. Meanwhile, Wright set sail for Myr with a hundred of his elite guards and his fleet. It had been a long time since he last traveled by ship, granting him a rare period of leisure.
The weather in the first month of the year was calm—no storms, only gentle waves along the continent's coastline. As they departed Tyrosh and sailed northward along the shore, the sea was bustling with passing ships.
The fleet of several dozen standardized large sailing ships, alongside warships flying the crowned stag banner with flames atop its head, sailed in formation. Leading the fleet was the newly built flagship of the Lord of Tyrosh, a sleek, pure-white, three-masted vessel. Once its name was officially confirmed, black Valyrian script was painted on both sides of the pristine bow: Wave-Rider Knight.
The flagship's name was meant to inspire the people of Tyrosh, who lived in a storm-prone region, to brave the waves with courage. Choosing Knight rather than Lord in the title was also a way to offer hope—Wright had already announced that this title would one day be granted to the greatest warrior of Tyrosh.
With such an impressive display, most ships from outside the Stepstones wisely chose to steer clear. Scattered pirates, upon spotting the fleet, furled their sails and remained still, hoping their submissive posture would spare them from dragonfire. Meanwhile, merchant ships from the Stepstones flocked behind the fleet, forming a vast convoy. By the time they neared Myr, the number of ships traveling together had swelled into the hundreds.
As the fleet entered Myr's bay, the wind died down, leaving them with a few hours before docking. On the foredeck of the white flagship, Wright and Lord Aurane Velaryon stood together, enjoying the sea breeze and idly chatting.
Wright crossed his arms. "How is the situation in Dorne?"
Aurane, his golden hair swept back by the wind, responded, "The third round of supplies was delivered successfully. All the provisions have reached their destination."
"And aside from military matters, have you heard any other news?" Wright asked.
Aurane thought for a moment before smirking. "There's an amusing bit of gossip I picked up in a tavern regarding Dorne."
"Oh? Let's hear it," Wright said, intrigued. If Aurane found something amusing, it had to be worth listening to.
"In King's Landing, the gambling dens have opened bets on the lives of various Dornish nobles. Recently, they even adjusted the odds."
"The odds?" Wright hadn't paid much attention to this before.
Aurane explained, "The wager on Nymeria Martell, leader of the loyalist forces, has seen an increase in the odds of her death, while Anders Yronwood, the leader of the rebels, has had his death odds lowered. He's so enraged by this that he even sent a letter to King's Landing, demanding an explanation from Lord Stannis as to why his survival chances fluctuate so much. But of course, Stannis never acknowledged any involvement. No one in King's Landing bothered to respond."
"Ha! That Yronwood!" Wright burst into laughter, though he knew there was more to this than mere gambling.
It wasn't just Wright scheming over Dorne; others across the Seven Kingdoms were making their own calculations. For now, their goals aligned—assimilating Dorne fully into the realm—but in the future, their interests might clash.
As for who they were, Wright had many guesses. Oberyn Martell was a possibility, but he and Prince Doran had both been gravely wounded and were now captives of Yronwood. Varys was another candidate, but even his influence alone wouldn't be enough to orchestrate this. The lords of the Reach and the Stormlands had longstanding enmity with the Dornish and were likely involved.
And then there was Stannis. The changing odds in his gambling halls subtly influenced the course of the war.
At first, Nymeria's odds of survival had been extraordinarily high. But now, they were steadily worsening, while the Yronwood faction's odds improved.
Did this suggest the rebels' chances of victory were increasing? No, that wasn't it.
From what Wright had learned, the wagers placed on this war had reached astronomical sums—so much so that Stannis was struggling to control the situation. During his time in Highgarden, Wright had picked up a tidbit from Varys: the king's councilors, and even Robert himself, had begun meddling in the betting.
The rise in Yronwood's death odds revealed something important—more and more people wanted him dead. His demise would not only pave the way for Dorne's full integration into the realm but would also allow the gamblers to cash in on his downfall. Stannis, on the other hand, was at risk of financial ruin, forcing him to adjust the odds.
Intrigue always left no evidence. If proof existed, it ceased to be intrigue and became a crime.
A uniformed naval officer approached. "Your Grace, Lord Aurane, we've arrived at Myr."
Wright turned and addressed his men. "Aurane, Theon, you're coming with me to Myr."
"Yes, my lord!" they answered in unison.