On the blood-soaked battlefield, the Meereenese man was still twitching on the ground.
"They're not here to annihilate us! They want to delay our journey!" Gendry said.
Gendry's hammer had smashed half of the Meereenese man's head, shattering his skull and creating a large hole. The Meereenese man was on the brink of death. But Gendry didn't deliver a finishing blow. Maester Qyburn walked over, still preoccupied with his plan for creating invincible undead guards.
"This is a fine specimen!" Qyburn hurried over eagerly, carefully raising a spear to approach the Meereenese man, Badakh, whose head had been half-crushed by Gendry. Badakh was a towering warrior, standing seven feet tall.
The tip of Qyburn's spear was dark and sticky, a thick black venom from the black scorpion. This poison could reach the heart directly. Gendry recognized it; Qyburn had taught him about various poisons, and he identified it at a glance.
The scorpion's venom could kill instantly, but Qyburn had mixed it with a coagulant and subjected it to dark magic to make the Meereenese man suffer excruciating pain, lingering on the brink of death, to see if he could be turned into an undead guard.
"Let me!" Gendry raised the spear and swiftly and steadily stabbed Badakh several times, especially in the heart and major arteries. But Badakh let out a few agonized howls, his red blood turning black.
The grass touched by this blood withered and died. After a few howls, the Meereenese man still died completely, his heart ceasing to beat.
"Failed! Could it be that even such a strong body won't do?" Qyburn's face showed frustration, his aged face etched with sorrow. Gendry also dropped the poisoned spear.
"It's still the Red Comet's effect. The magical tide hasn't come yet, and it seems impossible to create such powerful undead zombies!" Gendry thought. The experiment failed not because the specimen was inadequate.
Qyburn didn't know the reason, but Gendry had a good idea that it was likely due to the thinning of magical elements. Only after the Red Comet would there be a possibility of success in creating these undead zombies.
"Throw these crates of gunpowder grass down!" Handsome gritted his teeth and ordered. The slaves dared not disobey his command. They untied the ropes and brought three large crates from the carts.
The three large crates were pulled off the carts and dumped on the ground. The crates were opened, and the withered, rust-colored gunpowder grass, as valuable as gold, was spilled all over the ground, a large pile of it. Handsome displayed it to the bandit knights on the hill, letting them know it was the real thing.
"This is my gift! Purplebeard! To you and all of you!" Handsome walked to the back of the group and shouted to Purplebeard on the hill. "If we fight to the death, you won't get any of this gunpowder grass. I'll burn it all. You'll have nothing but death!"
Purplebeard was silent on the hill, "These stubborn Northerners!"
"You're doomed if you go back to Myr. Why not join me and head for Crown Town? With this gunpowder grass, it won't be hard to raise a mercenary army!" Purplebeard shouted.
"Thank you for your kind offer, but the Wolf Pack never forgets!" Handsome shouted back and had the slaves continue.
Purplebeard's group didn't budge until the Wolf Pack had moved far away, and then Purplebeard ordered his men to collect the crates of gunpowder grass.
"Boss! Are we just letting them go? What about the magistrate's task?" Purplebeard's subordinate asked.
"Magistrate, what magistrate. The two Meereenese he sent were both brutes; what good were they? Take this batch of gunpowder grass, and we'll still make a fortune!" Purplebeard sneered.
"As everyone knows, I'm a bandit mercenary. Bandit mercenaries don't have to be so trustworthy."
"But what if the magistrate blames us?"
"Blames us for what? To die so many good men for this lousy task, is the reward enough? Let the Myrish people fight it out. This gunpowder grass is enough to recruit and train an army."
...
Handsome saw a large-bellied Myrish cargo ship on the coastline, the "Meadow Wine."
Handsome had thought it wasn't the pirate king's flagship and was a bit puzzled, but he soon spotted the Lysene.
"I thought you weren't coming?" Lysene pirate Sallador Saan appeared on the deck, flanked by two old eunuch Unsullied. He was a smooth-talking man, also famous for his splendid attire. He wore a bright coat woven with silver threads, with sleeves so long they dragged on the ground, and buttons carved into the shape of monkeys from emeralds. On his head of fine, bright white curls, he wore a beautiful fan-shaped green hat adorned with peacock feathers.
Handsome led his group onto the ship, and Gendry watched Sallador with interest. Sallador was a descendant of the famous pirate family Saan, also a Lysene pirate and mercenary captain, and a friend of the Onion Knight, Davos Seaworth. He had multiple identities; he could be a smuggler, merchant, banker, and a notorious pirate.
The old pirate hugged Handsome and then kissed him on both cheeks.
"You're still alive, but you've never looked so bedraggled. And where's Greybeard? I was afraid he turned into a ghost."
Handsome said gloomily, "Greybeard is still in Myr. You should know the situation; Myr is in chaos. Our captain's fate is uncertain at the moment."
"Oh, and my gift?" Handsome handed the old pirate a spear, the weapon of a Meereenese gladiator.
"We ran into some trouble, even two Meereenese gladiators. In Myr, there are probably more Meereenese gladiators. They are rude and barbaric, but they are good at assassination."
"Meereenese, those brutes, it seems Magister Karasso's good friends are very willing to spend money!" Sallador smiled.
"Your new ship?" Handsome asked. This ship was not the Lysene pirate's flagship, the Valyrian, but an ordinary Myrish merchant ship.
"I have twenty or thirty ships, and I have many friends, old partners. It's easy for me to borrow a ship. If it were my ship, it would be too conspicuous."
"Are you pirating again?"
"Don't put it so harshly. If someone owes me money and doesn't pay, I'm happy to seize his ship."
The old pirate then ordered his eunuch, Unsullied, to count the gunpowder grass. He picked up a bundle of gunpowder grass and smelled it. "Beautiful, the old scent, a genuine specialty from Myr. Magister Karasso could have made a fortune this year, but unfortunately, his position is being targeted."
"Count it, lads! Although the Wolf Pack is my old friend, I still have to take a tenth of the quantity," the old pirate said, putting his arm around Handsome's shoulders.
"Get some hot wine for my men! My old friend Handsome is going to my captain's cabin," the old pirate instructed. "You can add some white cheese and beef strips."
"And who is this?" The old pirate noticed Handsome signaling Gendry to follow him, a tall warrior with short black hair and an iron mask.
"Young Gendry with the hammer, our mercenary group's new hero, braver and stronger than me!" Handsome introduced.
"I'm honored to meet a new hero!" The old pirate's eyes lit up, and he shook Gendry's hand.
"Endure the wine! The wine from Pentos and Myr is not of great quality, nor is it cheap!"
Handsome raised his cup. "Nevertheless, this glass of wine is so delicious."
"Does the boy not drink?" The old pirate asked as Gendry stood like an iron wall beside Handsome.
"He's shy, but on the battlefield, he's very fierce, smashing two Meereenese men to death."
"Remarkable!" The old pirate gave a thumbs-up. Handsome rarely praised a young man unless he was truly that fierce.
"My old friend, I thought being a mercenary was a dangerous game; the conscientious ones don't live long. Why not help me out? I have many ships but lack capable men. At night, someone will sneak the ships into Braavos, Myr, or Volantis. You protect my ships, and I trust your reputation and skills. No one will know, and we'll pull out with spices and silk. We'll all get rich."
"Thank you for your kind offer, old friend, and your generosity, but the mercenary mission is not over! Greybeard is still out there, and we have to bring him back. These supplies must be delivered to Myr."
"Ah, you always think you're climbing higher branches. I think being a pirate is truly free. I often try to persuade the Onion Knight, but he seems to have found the feeling of being a lord."