The wildfire gave Viserys the power to break through the Rhoynar's mist magic.
And after absorbing the essence of a water mage, he had also gained water magic that was no weaker than that of the Rhoynar.
These two advantages combined left him with no reason to show any courtesy to Lothan.
What he wanted were the Rhoynar people—not their parasitic leaders, toward whom he felt nothing but disdain.
There was no need to curry their favor.
Faced with Viserys's deliberate provocation, Lothan did not take the bait.
He understood all too well the current situation of the Rhoynar. A great famine was on the horizon—it was inevitable.
And when it came, they would only have two choices:
Either march out to wage war against Viserys, or stay home and starve to death.
Lothan had no doubt that once famine spread, the lower-class Rhoynar would very quickly convert to become Targaryen subjects.
When that happened, their fate would no longer be in their own hands.
"Your Majesty has misunderstood. The Rhoynar have no desire for war, and I have no intention of forcing you in any way," Lothan said calmly.
"Would you allow me, as you said earlier, to meet the Rhoynar who have pledged allegiance to you?"
"Of course. I always keep my word," Viserys replied.
He wasn't worried that Lothan might take those Rhoynar back.
If Lothan did, it would only increase the Rhoynar's food burden.
If he didn't, Viserys would gain their trust even further—and perhaps even recruit some of them into his army.
Either way, he would come out ahead.
Lothan held many "onlys" among the Rhoynar elders.
He was the only one to have served as an elder for forty years.
He was the only one among the five elders who could wield water magic.
And he was also the most powerful sorcerer in the region of Gohor.
These "onlys" combined made him the most respected and representative figure among the Rhoynar.
Because of that, he had to meet those who had willingly followed Viserys away from their homeland.
He needed to see for himself what confidence this young Targaryen king possessed to make these people choose him.
Led by Old Crab's nephew, Clement, Lothan arrived at the Rhoynar encampment.
Although they were temporarily living in the tents distributed by Viserys, it was clear they were not being forced.
In fact, many of their eyes shone with a light that was different from their usual weary expressions.
It happened to be mealtime. The people lined up patiently, enduring their fatigue and hunger after a day's labor as they waited for their turn to be served.
Those at the back craned their necks, calculating how much longer it would take.
The simple pot of rice, spiced just enough, seemed to lure their very guts out with its aroma.
Lothan and his entourage were quickly noticed and recognized.
"It's Elder Lothan!"
"Elder Lothan!"
"It really is Elder Lothan!"
The Rhoynar faces first showed surprise, then a flicker of shame.
They knew what their actions meant for the Rhoynar people as a whole.
Away from home, they could still lie to themselves. But with Lothan standing before them, their guilt became harder to suppress.
And yet, when they remembered Viserys's promises, they wavered again.
"That little king said that anyone who wants to leave can leave. He won't dare stop you!" Jona shouted, standing on tiptoe and craning her neck at the crowd.
But to her embarrassment, no one responded.
Jorel, her older sister, sensed the strange atmosphere too. Their grandfather's unmatched authority seemed to carry no weight here.
"Everyone, let's go! My grandfather—"
"Jona." Jorel cut her off.
"How is everyone living here?" Lothan finally asked the question that had been on his mind the most.
"Elder," a young man wrapped in a tattered cotton coat stepped forward.
"Elder, after we came here, King Viserys had us help build the walls. He said that when the next farming season comes, he'll give us tools, land, and seeds. He'll even arrange for people to help us build houses."
"He's going to build you houses?" Jona asked in disbelief.
"He's lending us the tools, food, and money to build them ourselves," the young man quickly explained.
Hearing this, Lothan's attendants nodded in understanding.
After all, where in the world would anyone just hand out houses for free?
Lothan nodded as well, then continued,
"But you already had land and houses. Why leave your homes?"
"Elder Lothan, because… because King Viserys's taxes are lower."
The young man's voice grew smaller as he spoke.
It was indeed a shameful reason to abandon their homes, to bend their backs for a few sacks of grain.
But it was also the truth.
Even with the slightly higher standard he had set for them compared to the Andal settlers—fifty catties more—Viserys's tax was still generous enough to bring tears to their eyes.
It was only about a third of what the elders had demanded back home.
Lothan listened quietly, nodded again, and then, supported by his granddaughters, left the camp.
He knew the true nature of the other so-called elders—their methods of exploitation bordered on cruelty.
Especially Terno, the elder who lived closest to the Andals; he had used that as an excuse to squeeze every drop of blood and sweat out of the people.
Lothan understood that those who had chosen to follow Viserys were mostly those who had no other options left.
Still, he decided to return and try once more—to see if those who called themselves elders could still be saved.
As a Rhoynar himself, he naturally wished for the Rhoynar civilization to retain its independence, rather than fall under foreign control.
And the situation had not yet reached the point of no return.
He could still appeal to Freygo for help.
After Lothan left, Clement stood atop a nearby platform and took out a document.
The people immediately recognized what it meant—new work.
More work now meant more hope for the future.
Clement looked over the Rhoynar gathered below and spoke, "Everyone, I have a new job list here. The pay is per day—"
From a distance, Lothan turned to look back.
He saw his people scrambling eagerly to get a share of the work.
It had been a thousand years since the Rhoynar civilization suffered its great catastrophe. Most of them had long forgotten the glory of their ancestors.
To them, nothing was more important than a full stomach.
And Lothan couldn't help but wonder if all the lives and treasures he had thrown away on Nasar in search of that thing had been worth it.
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