When he touched the bronze lock on the large chest with his intact right hand, it was as if he had touched a red-hot branding iron.
When he touched the bronze lock on the large chest with his intact right hand, it was as if he had touched a red-hot branding iron. A harsh sizzling sound came from where his palm met the metal, accompanied by acrid white smoke.
The man in the grey robe had demanded the deaths of the two corpse demons—one large and one small—and wanted their heads as proof.
So Red Rogo only hesitated in fear for a brief moment before making a swift decision—burn it!
"Corpse demons? Lies. Whoever's locked in that chest will burn to death regardless."
With that thought, Red Rogo picked up the swaddled bundle from the small chest and smashed four or five oil lamps onto the large chest.
"Boom!"
Flames roared. Thick smoke filled the cabin. Red Rogo staggered out, leapt over the gunwale, and disappeared into the darkness, leaving behind the burning, smoke-belching sailboat at the dock.
In under three minutes, the fire spread from the cabin to the deck, alarming the sailors on the pier.
The three fat men feasting and drinking in the "Demon Dragon Tavern," along with the three night watchmen searching the docks for a ship, rushed back after noticing something was wrong.
Unfortunately, the night watchmen's boat was already small, old, and falling apart. At this point, it was beyond saving.
"Boom!"
Amid the fat man's wailing, the small sailboat split in two, becoming a pile of floating torches on the sea.
What no one knew was that at the bottom of the sea, a limbless corpse suddenly opened its eyes. A cold, blue light gleamed in the frigid dark water, growing brighter and brighter like two miniature flashlights.
Unfortunately, the surface was ablaze, and no one noticed the blue light below.
Ssshhhhh!
Faint blue lines appeared where the corpse's limbs had once been, the lines tracing muscle-like patterns that stirred the surrounding seawater.
Splash, splash!
Transparent currents followed the glowing lines, crystallizing into fine ice particles. Gradually, the corpse grew a pair of translucent arms and legs.
By then, the brilliant blue light in his eyes had almost faded.
Blub blub—a string of bubbles escaped from his mouth as the corpse seemed to fall into a deep slumber. He closed his eyes, limbs outstretched, lying motionless on the ocean floor.
"Waaah! My White Walker—he's gone! Waaah! I've failed the Queen, I've failed Jon, I've failed the Night's Watch, I've failed the people of the Seven Kingdoms! I'm guilty! Waaah!"
On the dock, Sam collapsed to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably.
"It's not your fault. Who could've imagined this would happen before we even finished our meal?" Dareon the Wavecrow sighed, holding his forehead.
"Blame me, blame my gluttony!" the fat man wailed, pounding the ground.
"That's gluttony? Come on. We found a ship to Oldtown. We were about to set out overnight. What's wrong with pausing to have a good meal?" Dareon said impatiently.
If the fat man was at fault, wouldn't that make Dareon—who suggested the meal—even guiltier?
"Quit crying. It's useless. Go find the Sea King. Four of our brothers were on that ship. It didn't just catch fire for no reason. Clearly, someone boarded and killed Jeane and the others," said the old Night's Watchman Ulmer coldly.
"What good will talking to the Sea King do?" Dareon asked, puzzled.
Ulmer replied, still cold, "This matter with the White Walker is critical. Aside from you and Sam, the rest of us were handpicked by the Lord Commander himself—elite rangers.
"Jeane had even joined the Queen's suicide squad on a White Walker hunt. His vigilance was unmatched. No ordinary person could've gotten close to him without alerting him.
"But this is Braavos—home to the finest water dancers. And the Sea King must know how many elite dancers live under his rule."
Sam raised his tear-streaked, snot-covered face and hesitated. "This isn't Westeros. Will the Sea King even agree to meet with a few lowly Night's Watchmen?"
"He wouldn't have before. But now it's different. As long as we invoke Queen Daenerys's name, no one in Braavos will dare turn us away—not even the Sea King."
Ulmer's tone was complicated—tinged with pride and awe, but above all disbelief—disbelief at the news he'd heard in Braavos.
The Dragon Queen had subdued the leader of the Nine Free Cities—Braavos—on her own.
Without hesitation, they rushed to the Sea King's Palace at Purple Harbor and identified themselves as members of the Night's Watch.
"Scram!" the guards didn't even glance at them, shooing them away from three meters off.
"Our men were killed at the docks by water dancer assassins," Ulmer added.
"Scram. Go tell the City Watch!" one guard finally gave him a glance, nostrils flaring upward.
"We're in the Queen's service. Her Majesty Daenerys sent us," Ulmer said, raising his head, hands behind his back, with a sigh.
"Are you certain, sir?" The guards at the gate suddenly gathered around.
"The mission failed. The Queen is furious. The consequences will be severe," Ulmer said calmly.
Hooooot!
The guard captain blew a horn signaling an emergency.
Moments later, the palace gates opened layer by layer. The chamberlain personally came to receive them.
"Sigh, if we'd known we'd get this kind of treatment, we wouldn't have left the sailboat to find our own way to Oldtown," one of the Night's Watchmen said with a bitter smile.
(End of Chapter)
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