The armies of Gohor were being transported toward Pentos like bricks being moved along a construction site.
Weapons and supplies poured out of Gohor's warehouses like a river bursting through a broken dam.
This was destined to be an enormously costly war.
The consumption of supplies by an attacking army and a defending army could hardly be compared.
But the rewards for the attacker were equally enormous.
As long as they could capture Braavos, House Targaryen would not only recover its investment, but would make an immense fortune.
The wealth accumulated by Braavos over hundreds of years would become powerful nourishment, accelerating Viserys's conquest of the Free Cities.
Its advanced shipbuilding industry, enormous arsenals, prosperous commercial network, and banking system would all raise Targaryen power to another level.
Under Clinton's arrangements, Pentos would serve as a transfer point, with the armies being transported from there to the mountain passes at the foot of the Braavos Mountains.
"Our vanguard, the dragon riders, has already reached the foothills of the Braavos Mountains.
Transporting all one hundred and fifty thousand soldiers to the mountains will probably take more than half a month.
After all, we don't possess transportation capacity as powerful as Braavos's."
Clinton explained the situation to the assembled ministers.
There was nothing they could do about it.
Who could blame them when Valyria had never discovered a place like Braavos?
If there had been a Valyrian road leading directly to Braavos, Viserys's invasion could have proceeded much faster.
But on the other hand, it was precisely because there was no Valyrian road connecting the two places that Viserys had been given enough time to respond calmly when Robert launched his invasion.
The situation had simply been reversed now.
"This time, we must conquer Braavos! Throw the usurper into the sea!"
The Old Crab slammed his fist against his knee.
His reaction surprised everyone.
After all, this "Master of Coin" had always hated warfare.
"Lord Adrian, aren't you the one who hates war the most? Don't tell me you're actually a Faceless Man?"
Tyrion, whose figure was impossible to miss, teased him.
The atmosphere in the hall immediately became much more cheerful.
Although Tyrion was a Lannister, the role he had played during the Battle of the Rhoyne had earned him the acceptance of the others.
The Old Crab, however, remained completely unfazed.
"If we capture Braavos, we'll obtain a huge number of ships. And don't forget the Iron Bank!
Once we seize the Iron Bank, we'll have more gold than we could ever spend!"
The moment he said this, everyone wore an expression of understanding.
In truth, Viserys wanted much more than that.
He wanted to issue paper currency, using pieces of paper to exchange for gold and goods.
If he possessed the authority to issue currency, it would be almost as if everything in the world belonged to him.
But issuing paper money required control over the minting of currency first.
Once he possessed that authority, the manpower and resources of the entire Free Cities could be put to use for his benefit.
In secret, Viserys had already gathered skilled craftsmen and had several sets of paper notes produced.
He simply had not told his ministers about them yet.
Just as everyone was happily discussing their plans for the invasion, a cold draft suddenly swept through the hall.
Everyone's backs broke out in gooseflesh.
Veterans with extensive battlefield experience, such as the Kingsguard, immediately placed their hands on their sword hilts.
Arthur had even planted one foot against the base of the throne, ready to use his own body as a shield for Viserys at a moment's notice.
Viserys, seated upon the throne, also sensed that something was wrong.
A fierce and hostile presence had locked onto him.
The sensation was very similar to what he had experienced on Maiden's Mountain.
There was, however, a huge difference between the two.
If the presence of R'hllor had made Viserys feel as though he were being watched by a tiger, this time he felt as though he were being targeted by a venomous snake.
Both were deadly, but the latter was something he could contend with.
Everyone looked around.
The candle flames on the sconces flickered, leaving the hall in a dim and uncertain light.
"Your Majesty, be careful!"
Melisandre, whose face had already returned to that of a woman around forty, shouted a warning.
Following the direction of her finger, a black shadow was already rushing toward Viserys.
The shadow passed directly over Arthur and reached the space behind the throne.
Everyone's eyes locked onto the throne.
The moment they saw the size of the shadow, Clinton's mind immediately flashed with a single name.
Robert!
The shadow assassin created in Robert's image had no lower body, only a powerful upper torso.
It raised one hand high.
The black mist rapidly condensed, taking the shape of a black dagger before it came crashing down like a giant bear pouncing on its prey.
"No!"
Rhaella screamed, her voice breaking, while Arthur desperately tried to place himself between Viserys and the shadow that looked suspiciously like Robert.
Several of the younger ministers also rushed toward the throne without a thought for their own safety.
The moment Viserys saw the shadow that looked almost identical to Robert, he immediately understood what kind of magic this was.
This was the same sorcery that should have killed Renly.
At that very moment, in Braavos, Freygo, Quairo, Eddard, Stannis, and a large group of others were gathered around a fire, watching the visions within the flames.
They stared at the fire without blinking.
From their expressions, they seemed even more devout than most red priests.
The dancing flames reflected the scene surrounding Viserys.
The shadowy half-bodied assassin raised its right arm high.
All the black mist that formed its body rapidly gathered toward its right hand.
Its body became almost translucent as a result.
Then a long-handled war hammer with a pointed head condensed in the assassin's hand.
The pointed hammer came crashing down with tremendous force, smashing toward Viserys.
There was no doubt that such a terrifying blow could have shattered not only Viserys, but the throne behind him as well.
Yet in the next instant, Viserys suddenly sprang upward and seized the arm holding the long-handled hammer.
The sight left the red priest Jurt beside the fire utterly incredulous.
"Your Majesty!"
Arthur shouted and immediately threw the Valyrian steel sword Viserys had awarded him.
Freygo and the others watching through the flames felt their hearts tighten.
The shadow assassins created by this magic were particularly vulnerable to Valyrian steel.
They placed all their hopes on the possibility that Viserys would fail to catch the sword Arthur had thrown.
But the Valyrian steel sword traced a graceful arc through the air before being caught firmly in Viserys's hand.
He reversed his grip and drove the rippled Valyrian steel blade straight into the shadow assassin's body.
A faint, muffled sound escaped.
The shadow assassin that resembled Robert let out a silent scream.
Then came a second strike.
Then a third.
The assassin's body began to shrink.
Every time Viserys drove his sword into the shadow assassin, Robert's lips twitched slightly as he watched through the flames.
Very quickly, the shadow assassin shrank from more than six feet tall to less than four and a half.
Just then, Melisandre rushed forward.
The diminutive shadow was set ablaze.
It twisted in the flames before finally dissolving into black smoke and disappearing completely.
The moment they saw Melisandre ignite the shadow assassin, the orange-red flames before them suddenly went out.
Everyone knew it.
The assassination had failed once again.
The flames disappeared, plunging the room into complete darkness.
And darker still was the future that awaited them.
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