At Casterly Rock, the entire Tywin Lannister family line gathered for dinner. The towering figure of Tywin Lannister leaned back in his chair, ignoring the food in front of him. Instead, he silently read the letter in his hand:
1\. Spread the narrative that the queen and king had a quarrel, and in her anger, Cersei returned to the Westerlands with her children.
2\. Secretly execute Cersei, Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen.
3\. Tywin Lannister would waive 800,000 gold dragons of Crown debt and privately compensate Robert with an additional 1 million gold dragons.
4\. Hand over Gregor Clegane, the Mountain.
The message from King's Landing was clear: Cersei's confidants in the Red Keep had already been secretly executed by Robert's order. When some tried to flee to Dragonstone, witnesses reported Wright boarding a smuggler's ship alone. After that, Cersei's allies were never seen again, and no one at Dragonstone admitted to seeing them. It was Robert's not-so-subtle warning to Tywin.
"Surrendering the Mountain is manageable," Tywin mused to himself. "Amory Lorch escaped this time, largely because his notoriety doesn't match the Mountain's. But it was the people of the Westerlands who spread tales of Gregor's deeds. They want Dorne to deal with him, using this event as an excuse.
"Losing one dog is tolerable. Another can be trained to replace him. But those Westerland troublemakers should be dealt with — Amory Lorch will be tasked with rooting them out.
"The real issue lies with the second point." Tywin glanced briefly at his children. "Renly is still at Lannisport, waiting. If I don't execute the four, Wright will come to Casterly Rock himself. That would be a disaster — he might bring the castle to ruin. And if I delay, Robert will march his army here as well..."
Tywin's fingers absentmindedly traced the blackened surface of his pocket watch, his thumb grazing over the engraved lion relief.
Across the table, Jaime and Tyrion ate in silence, careful not to interrupt their father's thoughts. Cersei sat beside Myrcella and Tommen, helping them eat in the absence of their usual maid.
The dining hall was eerily quiet, broken only by the ticking of the clock and the soft clinking of cutlery.
"When are we returning to King's Landing?" Joffrey broke the silence. The boy hated the stillness.
Tywin's cold gaze shifted to his golden-haired grandson, his green eyes narrowing.
Watching his father's expression, Tyrion thought:
If Uncle Kevan were here, he'd undoubtedly... well, never mind. Kevan and his family are conveniently "too busy" hosting Renly at Lannisport to come to Casterly Rock and deal with this mess.
Unperturbed by the lack of a response, Joffrey continued, "The fishing villages near the port stink of fish every time the boats return. The air here is disgusting."
Tywin placed his hand on the armrest of his chair, his piercing green eyes fixed unblinkingly on Joffrey. His pupils had contracted to pinpoints.
"Ahem," Jaime interjected.
"See?" Joffrey smirked. "Even Uncle Jaime can't stand the stench. And this is what the Kingsguard has become?"
Cersei, still feeding Tommen, smirked coldly, entirely indifferent to the tension at the table. Tywin continued to glare at Joffrey, the veins in his eyes now visibly red.
Tyrion, sensing the growing storm, quickly stood and grabbed Joffrey by the arm, attempting to lead him away.
Joffrey struggled, shouting, "Let go of me, you wretched dwarf! Get your hands off me, you monster!"
Tywin grabbed the plate in front of him and hurled it with such force that it shattered against Jaime's head before storming off with the letter in hand.
Two guards entered the room, seizing Joffrey by the arms and dragging him out.
"How dare you filthy soldiers touch me! I am a prince! My father is the king, and I'll have your heads for this!"
Once the commotion had moved to a distant part of the castle, Tyrion sighed. "How long can this madness continue? I feel like I'm losing my mind!"
"What choice do we have now?" Jaime replied bitterly as he picked shards of the broken plate from his clothes and set them carefully on the table.
"You almost started a war! Have either of you even considered how Father feels about this?"
Though furious, Tyrion's tone remained calm.
"My dear sister, I still can't fathom how the two of you got caught by Robert in the act. And to top it all off, you had the audacity to confess before him and his brothers. What were you thinking?"
"This is all because of those two bastards, Wright and Renly!" Cersei roared.
Tyrion, unimpressed by her outburst, turned to Jaime. "The debt cancellation and the compensation amount to a total of 1 million gold dragons. Father's hair is practically falling out over it!"
"It's not that dire," Jaime replied, still plucking bits of porcelain from his clothing. Blood trickled down his temple where the plate had nicked him, but he ignored it. "I've seen the accounts. Paying it off over the years is feasible."
"Not that dire... Give me that money to find womens, and I'll birth an army that could conquer all of Westeros!" Unable to bear the tension any longer, Tyrion stormed off to his chambers.
\---
At King's Landing, on a corner of the Dragonpit ruins, stood a three-story building made from salvaged stone. The rubble had long been cleared away, and the outer courtyard walls shimmered intermittently with colorful magical patterns. The walls had no gates, and no guards were stationed there.
Everyone in King's Landing knew this was the magical academy established by Wright, the kingdom's Archmage. A booklet, along with ink and quills, sat on a table under the eaves of the building. A notice was pinned to the courtyard wall, inviting anyone — regardless of status — to write their name in the booklet to be accepted as a student of the magical academy.
Some sought admission to curry favor with Wright and Renly. Others believed themselves extraordinarily gifted and wished to learn magic. But anyone who approached the gates soon found themselves trapped in an illusion. When they regained their senses, they had been transported back to the base of the Dragonpit. Climbing over the walls was out of the question; everyone remembered the charred corpse that had been struck by lightning and smoldered for days two years ago.
As a result, nobles and commoners alike now simply observed the academy from a distance or placed bets on how many unlucky souls would stumble down Dragonpit that day — and what ridiculous marks the little girl inside the academy might have painted on their faces.
In the backyard of the academy, Wright lay on a rocking chair under the pergola, ostensibly reading a book but actually reviewing his attribute panel.
Name: Wright Baratheon
Age: 16
Attributes (Average for an Adult: 100):
Health: 550
Magicka: 2100
Stamina: 900
Physical Skills (Max Level: 100):
One-Handed Weapons: 85
Two-Handed Weapons: 85
Blocking: 56
Archery: 62
Light Armor: 42
Heavy Armor: 15
Magic Skills:
Destruction: 70 (Expert)
Restoration: 60 (Expert)
Alteration: 60 (Expert)
Conjuration: 60 (Intermediate)
Illusion: 60 (Intermediate)
Alchemy: 21
Enchanting: 18 (Skill Bonus +3)
Life Skills:
Speech: 100
Lockpicking: 40
Pickpocketing: 40
Sneak: 40
Smithing: 80
Free Points: 0
Talents:
Broken Item Space
Magical Affinity
Dragonborn Abilities:
Fus-Ro-Dah: Unrelenting Force 3/3 (Ancient Mastery)
Remaining Dragon Souls: 4
Gazing at his attribute panel, Wright reflected on what he had deduced about this frustratingly flawed system:
"Skills are divided into five levels: Novice, Apprentice, Intermediate, Expert, and Master. Progression requires both study and practice. Fifteen years of effort for this — it's ridiculous!"
"My health is 5.5 times that of an average adult, which means I can take a beating. In a prolonged battle, I could withstand five opponents taking turns punching me and still be left with half my health. Even a pierced heart wouldn't mean immediate death. Severed limbs bleed less, and with intermediate-level restoration magic, I can reattach them. I wouldn't dared test decapitation, though."
"Stamina allows me to sustain physical exertion for much longer. I could run a group of people to death in a marathon."
"The combination of health and stamina grants me strength seven times the average adult's. I verified this through weightlifting trials."
"As for being a Dragonborn, the shouts powered by three dragon souls are similar in strength to their in-game counterparts. However, by studying and researching draconic runes, their power can increase significantly, reaching the level of the ancient mastery described in the lore, rivaling the might of the ancient Dragonborn."