Inside Lysaro Rogare's luxurious mansion in Lys.
Lysaro burst into the room waving an ornate letter, his face glowing with excitement and manic energy.
"Tiberius! Look at this! An official invitation from the joint envoys of the Three Daughters!"
"They're inviting me—Lysaro Rogare—and my Lightning Company to join their glorious war against Volantis! This is perfect! I'm going to make the name 'Lightning Company' echo across all of Essos!"
Tiberius stood opposite him, his wine cup freezing halfway to his lips.
In that instant, a wave of ice-cold fury and sheer absurdity crashed over him.
Join the war against Volantis? Take these three hundred men to face the legendary five thousand war elephants, eight hundred warships, eight thousand sea hawks, and the ability to hire tens of thousands of bloodthirsty mercenaries backed by Volantis's massive standing army?
He forcibly swallowed the curses and mockery threatening to spill out. His jaw tightened for a split second before he regained control.
Tiberius knew he couldn't oppose Lysaro directly—especially not when this slightly arrogant young master was drunk on glory and vanity. Rejecting his "grand ambition" would only trigger stubborn rebellion.
Tiberius slowly lowered his cup, his voice careful and concerned. "Lysaro… you mean you'll personally lead the Lightning Company into the Three Daughters' war against Volantis?"
"Of course!" Lysaro puffed out his chest, already imagining his triumphant return. "This is the perfect chance for us to make our names eternal!"
Chance? More like the perfect tombstone for all of us, Tiberius screamed inside, but outwardly he forced a slightly helpless yet admiring smile. "Afraid? No, Young Master Lysaro. I'm thinking of you and the Lightning Company. This is going to be… a war on a scale never seen before. After all, Volantis's power far exceeds any normal city-state. She is the eldest daughter of Old Valyria—her strength cannot be underestimated."
He smoothly changed direction. "A war like this offers enormous opportunity… but the risks are equally enormous. If you want the greatest glory and the greatest safety…"
"I'm not doubting your courage or resolve, but sometimes on the battlefield, we need a reliable backbone, experienced veterans who have survived a hundred battles, and someone with real military authority to bring out your… exceptional strategic talent!"
In plain speak: we need stronger backup, more experienced seniors, and a much safer plan, Tiberius thought with self-mocking bitterness.
Lysaro's excitement cooled slightly. He frowned. "What are you suggesting?"
Tiberius stepped closer, his tone turning earnest and sincere.
"Young Master Lysaro, you possess unparalleled courage and vision. The fact that your investment—the Lightning Company—defeated Mario Ferrero's Golden Shield Company is proof enough!"
He continued smoothly.
"But the art of war is not only about courage and vision. It's about integrating resources, coordinated operations, and—most importantly—guidance from true veterans. After all, even a genius can lose his life in a single small skirmish."
While speaking, Tiberius carefully watched Lysaro's expression out of the corner of his eye.
Good. No anger, no arrogance. There's still hope for this kid.
He went straight for the kill, laying out his carefully prepared proposal: "Why not join forces with my uncle, 'the Honorable' Jules?"
Seeing the confusion on Lysaro's face, Tiberius immediately doubled down.
"Just think about it. My uncle's company is one of the most renowned mercenary bands in all of Essos! He commands hundreds of battle-hardened Westerosi knights and over a thousand veterans who have crawled through blood and fire! He himself is one of the finest commanders alive, having fought in countless major battles!"
"Moreover, my uncle's paymaster is your father, and the Lightning Company's paymaster is you! If we march together, doesn't that perfectly demonstrate the Rogare family's supreme military vision?"
Then Tiberius delivered the most tempting bait of all: "Young Master Lysaro, this is the perfect opportunity for you! You can truly study the art of commanding large-scale warfare up close—observing, learning, and even participating in decision-making at the side of a legendary general like Jules Mord! That is far more valuable than leading the Lightning Company into danger alone. This will make you a true great commander, not just the captain of a small force!"
Finally, he landed a perfectly timed piece of flattery, his tone so sincere it was impossible to doubt. "To be honest, my uncle has praised you more than once in private! He says you are the only young noble in all of Lys who truly 'understands the art of war'! He often says that if you receive proper tempering and guidance from a real general, your future achievements will be limitless!"
Tiberius watched Lysaro's face anxiously. Then he relaxed. His barrage of carefully crafted words had struck perfectly at Lysaro's vanity and his burning desire to be seen as a "true commander."
Lysaro's eyes lit up again, even brighter than before. "Lord Jules… really thinks that highly of me?"
"Absolutely!" Tiberius said firmly.
"If our two companies join forces, with Uncle Jules as overall commander and you as his deputy and apprentice, plus your Lightning Company…" He slammed his fist on the table.
"We will be unstoppable! Volantis? Hmph, nothing but bones in a grave!"
At this moment, Tiberius sounded exactly like those shady salesmen who trick old people into buying overpriced health supplements. But for the sake of his own survival, he had no choice.
"By then, the name Lysaro Rogare will be praised across all of Lys—and the entire Three Daughters!"
"And when that day comes!" Tiberius's face showed perfectly "sincere" admiration. "You will undoubtedly be the finest young general in all of Lys… no, in the entire Three Daughters!"
Lysaro was completely convinced.
By now he had already forgotten most of what Tiberius actually said. In his mind, he was already standing beside Jules while the great captain looked at him with admiration. Then he would devise brilliant strategies, command Tiberius to crush the enemy, and finally step forward himself for a heroic single combat to slay the enemy leader.
Tiberius noticed the corner of Lysaro's mouth curling up as he daydreamed.
There he goes fantasizing again…
This kid really isn't much different from a brain-dead college student.
Then Lysaro slammed his hand on the table. "Good! Tiberius, you're right! That's exactly what we'll do! I'll go speak with Lord Jules right now about joining forces. This is the wise move!"
"Lysaro, your decision right now perfectly proves my uncle's sharp judgment!" Tiberius delivered one final, perfectly timed piece of flattery. "The ability to make bold yet correct decisions—that is why you will succeed!"
Watching Lysaro rush off excitedly, Tiberius took a deep breath and slowly sat back down, feeling a layer of cold sweat on his back.
The immediate crisis was averted. The Lightning Company wouldn't be thrown into hell alone. At least his uncle, Vito, and he would be together.
I hope Uncle refuses him, Tiberius thought, rubbing his temples.
And if he can't… then staying by Uncle Jules and the White Company is still a thousand times better than marching with Lysaro alone.
"Uncle should refuse him… right?"