Although the representatives from Lorath expressed one after another that they dared not co-rule Braavos with the great House Targaryen.
Viserys still decided to reward Lorath for their "meritorious service in battle."
How to reward them?
According to Viserys, now that House Targaryen had many soldiers and generals and occupied two of the Free Cities, it was entirely possible to rebuild the Targaryen dynasty in Essos.
Amidst this flourishing prospect, Viserys formally invited Lorath to join the big family of Targaryen.
The representatives of Lorath were dumbfounded. How did the conversation shift to annexing us?
So, we help you fight a war, and you still won't let us off the hook?
Even a clay figurine has some fire. At the moment, there were at least four thousand Lorathi soldiers stationed in Braavos. In the worst case, they would just fight to the death.
The people of Lorath, who had been fishing for hundreds or thousands of years, strongly believed in the principle that those with nothing to lose fear nothing.
Seeing that the Lorathi seemed unwilling to accept Brother Wei's friendly proposal, the player representatives present—a full forty-something guild leaders—cast threatening glances at the Lorathi.
New subjects eager to perform in front of His Grace, like Bloodbeard, even drew their war blades from their waists, gesturing threateningly, their intent overflowing.
Although the few representatives of Lorath were unwilling to confront the dragon's claws and teeth, they were obviously also unwilling to give up their freedom and become part of the Targaryen Kingdom's territory.
Viserys took all of this in. The King spoke slowly:
"I don't need to say much about what kind of life the people of Lorath have lived for the past hundreds or thousands of years. You know it best. The Sealords of Braavos have claimed to be friends of the Lorathi for generations, but I don't need to tell you how they squeezed the prices of your exported seafood.
I only ask you one question: do you want freedom, or do you want to be well-fed?"
The representatives lowered their heads and remained silent. They didn't want to lose their freedom, but they also wanted to be well-fed.
"So you want both?"
Sitting on the Sealord's throne, Viserys straightened up and looked down at the Lorathi:
"Pacha, you represent the Fisher Prince."
Pacha raised his head, confused.
"When you return, convey my respects to the Prince. Tell him to ignore those fools on the Council of Magisters. If he supports me, I will consider appointing him as the Warden of Lorath, Duke of the Lorath Islands, a hereditary title."
"Is what you say true?" Pacha asked somewhat incredulously.
"The Gods bear witness!"
Receiving Viserys's confirmation, Pacha began to waver. To this day, the Prince of Lorath was merely a mascot placed on the stage, while the real power was held by the nobles of the Council of Magisters.
Before the war, Pacha, a trusted aide of the Fisher Prince, was just a small captain, sucking up the tiny drops of ink that occasionally flowed from the suckers of the big octopus that was the Council of Magisters.
He was now one of the three commanders of the army, but after returning, he would still be that small captain, continuing his impoverished life of fishing and selling fish.
Although he could control a part of the Lorathi expeditionary force, this was due to the Fisher Prince personally stepping forward before the war to call on some fishermen to join the expedition, which allowed him, the Prince's confidant, to command troops.
To be one of the three powerless princes, or to be the Lord of the Lorath Islands, second only to one and above ten thousand?
Pacha thought he could make the choice for the Prince.
And as for himself, whether to go back to being a fishing boat captain or to have the opportunity to become a vassal of the future Duke of Lorath, a lord himself... he had already made his choice in his heart.
Pacha raised his head, but before he could speak, a representative of a noble from the Council of Magisters beside him snatched the opportunity to speak first:
"Your Grace! We can also join House Targaryen! My master's mother was Rhoynar, and his ancestors were Andals!"
Seeing this, the last representative realized what was happening and shouted out unwillingly to be outdone.
The guild leaders, who had just been glaring angrily, now sat back in their seats with amused expressions.
Arrogant at first, then respectful later. How ridiculous.
Just moments ago, they looked like they would rather die than lose their freedom. Now, they were fighting to be the first to sell out their country.
The three Lorathi representatives didn't care at all how these players looked at them.
What's wrong with selling out the country? This is the way of survival for small countries!
As long as we sell Lorath for a good price, which Lorathi would dare say we aren't heroes of Lorath?
"Lorath can have one Duke, or it can have two." Viserys tapped his fingers rhythmically on the armrest of his chair.
Hearing this, the three representatives gulped, extremely nervous.
"However, Lorath can be divided into two, and I can appoint two Wardens to govern the Lorath Islands for me jointly, but it cannot be divided into three."
Viserys's next words were a direct hit. He spoke very plainly, leaving no room for negotiation.
The three representatives, who had shifted their mindset from fighting to the death to defend Great Lorath to exchanging Lorath for a better price and a beautiful tomorrow in the time it took to squeeze a bucket of milk, looked at each other in dismay.
It wasn't that Viserys used High Valyrian causing them not to understand.
Rather, he spoke so bluntly that they understood too well.
This was clearly saying there were only two pieces of meat. Since all three of you want to eat, then fight for it.
Storm-Cloud-Split, Storm-Overlord, and the others drank their wine and tasted their pastries leisurely. They knew the classic "Two Peaches Kill Three Warriors" stratagem too well!
The three Lorathi representatives left. They came arm in arm, and they left arm in arm.
Yes, this was an agreement among the three of them to prevent any one of them from bringing the news back first.
Since leaving the Sealord's Palace, none of the three had removed their other hand from the hilt of the sword at their waist.
This fully demonstrated the mistrust between people.
The outsiders' matters were resolved, so it was time for their own people.
Having developed into forty large, medium, and small guilds, the player guilds could now fully represent the vast majority of players.
After all, for a large-scale game with a war theme, except for lone wolves, most players would definitely find an organization after entering the game.
The forty-something people sitting below Viserys now were the representatives of the players. They would be titled today. The titles could be personal honors for them to show off, but the fiefdoms they received would definitely be owned by the guild.
Even so, everyone's spirits were very high. They knew clearly that this large-scale knighting ceremony would definitely go down in the history of the game.
Looking at these familiar yet strange faces, their Brother Wei did not disappoint them.
"Teflon" (Minister of Revenue), who had never left his side and was regarded by Jorah as a pyromancer fanatic, was appointed as the Assistant Master of Builders, titled Baron, and received six or seven small islands in the Braavos island chain that were not connected to each other.
Further down, the leaders of old, large guilds like Storm-Cloud-Split, Storm-Overlord, Loves-Eating-Pineapple, and Squatting-Grass also received the title of Baron and were given varying numbers of small islands within the Braavos island chain as fiefdoms.