Compared to the magnificent High Court, the castle of House Mullendall looked rather shabby.
Thick stone walls, narrow windows, and dim candlelight made the banquet hall feel cramped—and even a little eerie.
The dinner itself was not particularly lavish: roasted meat, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, and a simple vegetable salad.
Of course, Samwell had no complaints. As he ate, he chatted happily with Mark about his adorable monkey.
When he heard that the monkeys actually came from the Midsummer Islands, Samwell became extremely interested and asked a whole string of questions.
For example—where exactly were the Midsummer Islands located? Were merchant ships able to come and go? What was the culture like? The people? The island's specialties?
It was rare for Mark to meet a knight who showed genuine interest in the Midsummer Islands. He immediately felt as if he had found a kindred spirit and eagerly poured out everything he knew.
Viscount Martin watched from the side. Seeing his son strike up such a heated conversation with Samwell so quickly, he couldn't help but frown slightly.
He glanced at Todd Flower, who was focused entirely on eating and drinking, and asked:
"Your Excellency Todd, are you a knight of House Tyrell?"
Todd set down the knife and fork in his hands and replied, "Yes, Lord Viscount."
Viscount Martin nodded thoughtfully and was about to ask another question when Samwell suddenly spoke up:
"That's right, Lord Viscount. Knight Todd is the 'noble illegitimate son' of Qingting Island. This time, he was personally ordered by Lady Olenna to lead the team and accompany me to the Crimson Mountains for development."
So it really was the Tyrell army.
Viscount Martin was secretly shocked.
He did not realize that Samwell had deliberately blurred the distinction between Tyrell soldiers and newly recruited men. As a result, he assumed that the two hundred pioneers were all elite troops of House Tyrell.
"I didn't expect the Duke to value you so highly," Viscount Martin said. "To think he would send such an elite force to follow you on this venture."
Samwell smiled, shook his head, and said, "Lord Viscount, you misunderstand."
"Oh? How so?"
"Is there really anything about me worth the Duke's attention? The real reason he sent troops is to secure the new territory of the Crimson Mountains."
"I see." Viscount Martin clearly believed this explanation.
After all, he himself did not think that the good-for-nothing standing before him was worthy of the Duke of Metz dispatching so many soldiers.
However, a new doubt immediately followed—
If the Duke of Metz truly valued this new territory so much, why would he send such a waste of a person to develop it?
Did House Tyrell really lack capable knights?
Naturally, even if Viscount Martin looked down on Samwell deep in his heart, he couldn't ask such a question outright. That would be far too rude.
Yet before he could say anything, Samwell voiced the very doubt in the Highland City lord's mind:
"Lord Viscount, are you wondering why the Duke sent me to develop the land?"
Viscount Martin smiled faintly and replied with polite flattery:
"The Tully family has always produced outstanding generals. His Excellency the Duke must have recognized your talent as a leader."
At these words, several people present flushed slightly.
Even the black-and-white monkey squeaked and waved its arms, as if it couldn't stand Viscount Martin's blatant nonsense.
Samwell shook his head, smiled bitterly, and said:
"Lord Viscount, how could I possibly have any talent for leading troops? Otherwise, I wouldn't have been kicked out by my father and stripped of my inheritance rights. The reason the Duke sent me to pioneer is simple—because I dare to do things others don't."
"What things?" Viscount Martin asked at once.
Samwell merely smiled, glanced around the room, and said nothing.
Viscount Martin immediately understood. The other party clearly did not wish to speak openly in public.
He hesitated for a moment. In the end, curiosity won out. He set down his knife and fork, picked up a napkin to wipe his mouth, and extended an invitation:
"I have collected some fine wines from Arbor Island. Sam, would you be interested in tasting them?"
"It would be my honor."
Samwell rose, followed Viscount Martin out of the banquet hall, and entered a small adjoining room.
Viscount Martin took a bottle from the wine rack and poured two glasses.
A clear, rich aroma quickly filled the small room.
Samwell accepted the glass, thanked him, and took a sip.
Sweet and refreshing—truly a fine wine.
Of course, neither of them had come here merely to drink.
"Lord Viscount," Samwell said, "you must really want to know why the Duke of Metz sent me to develop the Crimson Mountains."
Viscount Martin gently swirled the silver wine cup in his hand. He said nothing, only gazed quietly at Samwell, waiting for him to continue.
"Highland City lies at the foot of the Crimson Mountains. You must know, Lord Viscount, that if one goes deeper southwest, the land becomes barren, wild beasts grow numerous, and savage tribes roam freely, plundering at will. It is nearly impossible to cultivate.
"This is precisely why the Riverbend knights are unwilling to come here to develop land.
"But I am different.
"I am a discarded waste, abandoned by my family. I have nowhere else to go, so naturally I'm willing to come here and take a gamble. What's more, I have a method that can make a territory grow rapidly—
"Plunder!"
Viscount Martin listened intently, snorting softly now and then. But when he finally heard this answer, he burst out laughing.
"Sam, you're not planning to rob those savages, are you? Let me remind you—the most valuable thing they own is probably their crudely stitched animal-hide clothing."
Samwell shook his head and began calmly misleading him:
"Lord Viscount, you misunderstand. My new territory will be built along the northern shore of the Summer Sea, near the mouth of the Turbulent River. Tell me—if so many wealthy merchant ships pass by, should I ignore them and go rob poor, penniless savages instead?"
Viscount Martin's eyes narrowed immediately upon hearing this.
After carefully sizing up the young pioneer knight before him, he spoke again:
"Your Excellency Caesar, I don't need to remind you of the punishment for piracy in the Reach, do I?"
"Of course I know." Samwell shrugged casually. "But Lord Viscount, have you forgotten? House Tyrell sent over two hundred elite soldiers to accompany me in this development—and the leader is Todd of Qingting Island."
Viscount Martin's expression turned grave, though disbelief still lingered in his eyes.
Samwell continued:
"Of course, Lady Olenna's meaning is for me to plunder Dornish merchant ships—not to recklessly attack others."
"Even so," Viscount Martin said sternly, "once this is exposed, your reputation will be completely ruined. You could even end up on the gallows!"
Samwell laughed.
"Do I really have a good reputation right now? Besides, if I don't do this, how am I supposed to develop a new territory in a place like the Crimson Mountains?"
Viscount Martin studied Samwell deeply.
"Knight Caesar, you are nothing like the rumors."
Samwell gently shook the wine in his glass and smiled.
"Rumors are never trustworthy, Lord Viscount."
Viscount Martin smiled as well. "In that case, I wish you success in your endeavor."
Suddenly, Samwell took a few steps closer and said softly:
"Lord Viscount, would you like to make some money?"
At those words, Viscount Martin's expression instantly turned alert.
(End of th
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