Read 20+ Chapter's Ahead in Patreon
Ser Marlon had brought over two hundred men from White Harbor, slightly more than Clay had taken to the Twins. Clay's journey to the Twins was a long-distance expedition, and bringing two hundred cavalrymen served as a display of strength. But why did Ser Marlon need to bring so many people just to fetch him?
Including the sailors, the four ships carried nearly five hundred people. In the sparsely populated North, this number was roughly the total force some minor lords could muster without full mobilization—it was by no means a small contingent.
With Ser Marlon constantly urging them on, Clay and his men boarded the ships. Without a moment's delay, Ser Marlon issued the order for the fleet to set sail for White Harbor.
Standing at the bow of the ship, the old knight exuded an air of discipline and experience, his entire presence steeped in the essence of a seasoned soldier. Clay, unable to suppress his growing doubts, eventually stepped forward and positioned himself beside the knight. After a brief hesitation, he finally asked,
"Ser, is this truly necessary? Is there really such urgency?"
Ser Marlon cast a somewhat exasperated glance at the young heir of White Harbor. This boy had spent two years wandering around Essos and had been back in White Harbor for no more than ten days in total—spending the rest of his time traveling from one place to another.
Why couldn't he just stay put in White Harbor for a while? This wouldn't do. Clearly, he had too much free time. Once they returned, he would have to speak with Lord Wyman and arrange something to keep him occupied, he couldn't be allowed to keep running around like this.
However, this time, the urgent summons had nothing to do with Clay's restlessness. It was a direct order from Lord Wyman himself. Ser Marlon didn't know all the details, only that the family's merchant convoys sent further south had not been attacked but had undergone harsh inspections.
Normally, passing through checkpoints only required a few gold dragons to smooth things over. But this time, the inspectors outright refused the bribes placed in their hands, maintaining an air of rigid righteousness as they forcibly examined the cargo.
This was highly unusual. Someone important had taken notice of White Harbor's recent increase in trading caravans since Clay's return and was very interested in finding out what exactly was being transported.
Ser Marlon did not know the full extent of Clay and Lord Wyman's plans, but that did not stop him from realizing one thing—someone was investigating Clay.
"Yes, it's necessary. Your grandfather and I will only be at ease when we see you safely back in the Merman's Court."
Ser Marlon had no intention of explaining further. Lord Wyman would tell his grandson everything when the time was right, and there was no need for him to elaborate. He had no desire to discuss the matter any further, so he smoothly shifted the conversation:
"You stayed in the Twins for quite some time. Tell me, what did you learn?"
Clay thought for a moment before replying, "From what I observed, the second generation of Freys in the Twins are deeply embroiled in internal strife. Walder Frey has tried to maintain a balance, but he is already ninety years old. I believe his efforts have done little to ease tensions and may have even worsened them."
Ser Marlon nodded slightly. He had heard rumors about the inner workings of House Frey. Then, suddenly, he glanced at Clay with a sharp gaze and asked in a stern voice,
"Boy, I know why you went there. Don't tell me you got yourself involved in their power struggles and brought back a marriage agreement for our family?"
Clay immediately denied it, at least outwardly. But inwardly, he thought, I did secure a marriage agreement for House Manderly... but it's one I have no intention of honoring.
This wasn't something he could explain to Ser Marlon just yet. It would be best to return to White Harbor and speak with his grandfather first.
---
The swaying of the ship made sleeping difficult for those accustomed to life on land. Clay lay in his cabin, staring out through the porthole at the moonlit sea, where the waves shimmered in the pale light.
During his stay in the Twins, he had been experimenting every night—channeling his magic to envelop his blood, striking at the Dragonlord's Blood that the Three-Eyed Crow had awakened within his heart.
The blood—a small, solid mass about three or four centimeters in length—had mostly been assimilated after persistent effort. The cost, however, was steep. Nearly every night, Clay experienced an agonizing pain in his heart, so much so that one might mistake him for a man suffering from a severe heart condition.
With a single thought, he summoned the Witcher System onto his retina:
◇◆────────────────◆◇
Witcher System (Level 2)
Potions (Expand)
Bombs (Expand)
Equipment (Expand)
Mana Pool: 80
Unlocked Signs: Quen (Level 1), Yrden (Level 1), Aard (Level 1), Igni (Level 1), Axii (Level 1)
Items (Expand)
◇◆────────────────◆◇
Clay opened the inventory and withdrew the blue-gold dragon egg resting within.
The egg was still cold to the touch, but he could sense an undeniable connection to it—his blood, infused with magic, resonated with the egg. A premonition stirred within him. Once the Dragonlord's Blood fully coursed through his veins, that would be the moment he could awaken the life slumbering within the egg.
Bathed in moonlight, the dragon egg's shell shimmered in waves of radiant blue and gold. It was tantalizingly close, yet still out of reach. The feeling gnawed at him, filling him with a deep yearning. But there was no helping it—power could only be attained through time and relentless effort.
Placing the egg back into his inventory, Clay turned his attention to the five unlocked Signs. He had been preoccupied with various matters lately and had yet to carefully assess his abilities.
From his experiments, he found that these Signs were not as potent as those used by the Griffin School of Witchers in their world. Perhaps this was due to his Signs being at a low level, or maybe it was a fundamental difference in his power.
Overall, his abilities seemed more in line with the Wolf School's balanced approach—versatile but not particularly specialized. Yet, like any ambitious man, Clay wanted more. He desired greater mastery over the Signs.
For most Witchers, the strength of their Signs was largely determined at the moment of their mutation, and further growth required years of refinement. But Clay's Witcher System bypassed this limitation.
Currently, all his Signs were at Level 1. To advance them to Level 2 required an enormous investment—three hundred mana points per Sign. That was nearly as much as the magical energy he had expended when he first underwent his mutation, escaping its severe side effects.
He had even tried visiting a Sept in the South to test the power of the Seven. Though the statues were exquisitely carved, in his Witcher Vision, the magic surrounding them was faint, chaotic, and flickering.
The Three-Eyed Crow had been right. The Seven, despite their widespread worship in the South, might truly be in a weakened state—or perhaps they were never as strong as the Old Gods to begin with.
He wondered if the Great Sept of Baelor in King's Landing or the Starry Sept in Oldtown held stronger divine power. The Three-Eyed Crow, an agent of the Old Gods, had already revealed himself to Clay. Did the Seven have similar emissaries in Westeros?
For now, however, the only reliable way to gather sufficient magic was by drawing power from the weirwood trees in the North. Once he returned to White Harbor, this would become one of his top priorities.
..
..
[IMAGE]
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Chapter End's]
🖤 Night_FrOst/ Patreon 🤍
Visit my Patreon for Early Chapter:
https://www.patreon.com/Night_FrOst
Extra Content Already Available