Game of Thrones: From a deserter to a high-ranking official

Chapter 61 Swamp Sorcery



Chapter 61 Swamp Sorcery

"Oh, really?" Jules looked at Tiberius with some surprise. "I didn't expect you to learn to read so quickly! Alright, give me a few days, and I'll see which potion is more suitable for you."

After Jules left, Tiberius could hardly contain his excitement.

【Oh yeah! I'm going to learn magic!】 Tiberius was extremely excited. He, who was usually so composed, really wanted to sing out loud and jump up to high five with the sky.

This is magic!

However, at that moment, Tiberius's system suddenly emitted a notification sound.

Title: "Lightning" (Fame: 38%)

Gain title bonus: Lightning (Intermediate)

[His popularity has increased again?] Tiberius could no longer contain his excitement.

This time, for the first time in another world, he let out a hearty laugh.

Finally! Finally! This is the proper transmigrator script! Money in your pocket, fame wherever you go, and a system that instantly strengthens you... This is the transmigrator script we should live!

Tiberius then began testing his enhanced "lightning" effect.

"Tsk, did I get something wrong?" Tippi looked at the arc of electricity in his hand with considerable distress.

"It doesn't feel much stronger than before? Could it be because A Song of Ice and Fire is a low-magic world?" Tiberius scratched his head and finally came to a rather troubled conclusion.

"But this doesn't make sense!" Tiberius pondered. "The face-changing magic and assassination techniques of the God of a Thousand Faces, the resurrection magic and flaming sword of the Lord of Light, the natural magic of the Children of the Forest... these are all traceable and extremely powerful spells!"

Originally, to prevent the First Men from crossing the continent from Essos to Westeros, the Green Prophets among the Children of the Forest unleashed powerful magic that shattered the Arm of Dorne, creating the Stepstone Islands we see today.

And now, Tiberius's magic, even after being enhanced, is still just simple electric arcs? That's far too weak!

Of course, some might say this is a sign that magic is in a slump.

But to Tiberius, no.

After all, the Targaryen family can still hatch dragon eggs, and the Targaryen family currently has the most dragons in history.

To say that magic is in a slump at this point? That's way too early.

Tiberius pondered to himself, then pointed to a large tree a hundred meters away.

then……

"Boom!"

Suddenly, a thunderous roar erupted from the cloudless sky, followed by a bolt of lightning striking the tree.

The lightning, as powerful as a serpent, cleaved the tree, the size of a bowl, into charred charcoal.

"By the Seven Gods..." Tiberius exclaimed, dumbfounded. "This...this is just too amazing!"

-----------------

Jules sat behind a rough wooden table, his gaze fixed on Tiberius as if examining a weapon. Tiberius stood before the table, his posture respectful, but his eyes gleamed with a thirst for knowledge and a hint of barely perceptible sharpness.

"Tiberius," Jules's deep, steady voice broke the silence, "Vito told me that you are making rapid progress in your studies. Very good."

He paused, seemingly choosing his words carefully, his fingers unconsciously tapping the table, making a soft, rhythmic sound.

"Since you learn so quickly... well, I'll teach you something now... well, something less common." His tone carried an unusual, almost cautious seriousness, as if he were opening a long-sealed, forbidden box. "A kind of... swamp magic."

Tiberius's eyebrow twitched almost imperceptibly, but he didn't say anything, only staring more intently at Jules.

Jules took out a small box carved from some kind of dark wood from a hidden compartment under the table and opened it. Inside were not gold or silver jewelry, but several small leather pouches and several sealed ceramic jars with faded labels in ancient handwriting.

He pulled out a yellowed parchment with slightly torn edges, on which were drawn simple diagrams of some plants in dark brown ink, with distorted text and dosages marked next to them.

He pushed the parchment in front of Tiberius.

"It's a drug," Jules said, lowering his voice as if afraid the wind outside the wall would hear, "The user will fall into a... semi-comatose state. In this state, it's difficult for them to fabricate lies, and what's hidden deep inside them is more easily pried out."

He raised his eyes, his gaze sharp as he looked at Tiberius, and emphasized, "But the dosage must be precise! Too much, and they'll completely pass out, perhaps never to wake up again; too little, and it won't be effective, or it might be completely ineffective. This requires experience and... a feel for it."

Tiberius's gaze swept over the unfamiliar plant names and complex preparation steps on the parchment, his mind racing. He looked up at Jules, a hint of inquiry in his eyes, his tone calm yet cutting to the chase:

"Uncle... back at Bloodwave Cape, the thing you gave that cannibal leader, Thorne Bean, to drink... was it this?"

Jules and Tiberius looked at each other, their faces showing no embarrassment or anger at their secret being exposed, only a deep calm. He nodded slowly and firmly.

"Yes," he admitted readily. "Confronting beasts who have long lost their humanity and are accustomed to deception, conventional interrogation has limited effectiveness. Fear and pain sometimes only make them fabricate more outlandish lies. But this..." He pointed to the parchment, "can bypass their defenses when they are conscious and directly access those deeply buried memories and facts that even they themselves may have blurred."

He looked at Tiberius, his eyes deep: "Sometimes, to get the truth, we need to resort to... unconventional means. Especially in this land, the methods of the light don't always work. Remember, this is a tool, like your javelin and sword. How you use it depends on the person wielding it. And the consequences of abusing it..." He didn't finish, but the unspoken warning hung like a heavy lead weight in the air between them.

Tiberius took a deep breath and carefully rolled up the parchment.

"I understand, Uncle. I will use it carefully."

-----------------

A few days later, the so-called "New Mercenary Group Competition" was held.

Outside the arena, the stench of leather, sweat, horse manure, and food from various stalls mingled together. The smell was overwhelming and unpleasant.

There were also slaves, peddlers, and mercenaries coming and going. It was practically a huge marketplace!

"I didn't expect so many people!" Tiberius exclaimed inwardly, looking at the sea of ​​people on the outskirts. "How many people have come?!"

"Most of the future of Ries has gathered here! Tiberius," Lisanlo said excitedly as he removed his helmet, which was inlaid with pearls and gems.

"Whether they are maritime merchants who travel to ports all over the world or speculators who made their fortunes in finance, the nephews and nieces of these families are all here! Not to mention the sons of those big slave owners and plantation owners! Look, there are a few of them! However, some of them don't seem to be here to compete; they're more here to watch the show."

[If a meteorite were to suddenly appear, they would all die here...] This thought suddenly flashed through Tiberius's mind, but he quickly dismissed it.

[No, let's think straight!] Tiberius thought to himself. [Daydreaming won't get me away from the front lines in Volantis!]

The air was thick with the scents of leather, rust, sweat, and a deliberately created atmosphere of restlessness. Just as Lisanro and his "Lightning Squad" arrived at the camp, they heard a piercing sound.

"Oh—! I wonder who this is!" Mario Ferrero was wearing an overly ornate suit of gold-plated plate armor, with many strange decorations on the armor that Tiberius found odd: such as huge bull horns on his helmet, a fur shawl stained red on his shoulders, and metal boots that reached almost to his knees.

Mario swaggered over, surrounded by a group of equally well-dressed and arrogant spoiled brats, a mocking smile plastered on his face.

"Isn't this the beloved son of our great hero of Ries—the Governor Lisanzhuo who found his daughter through 'strategy,' the esteemed young master Lisanluo? What's wrong? Instead of writing your heroic epic at home, you've come to this place full of sweat and uncouth people?"

His henchmen immediately burst into exaggerated laughter, like a pre-rehearsed chorus. Then, Mario raised his hand, and the laughter behind him stopped abruptly.

"Or perhaps, does the esteemed young master intend to use his delicate, almost womanly hands to test his skills against gladiators on the battlefield?"

Mario's gaze passed over Lisanro and landed on Tiberius, who was wearing ordinary lamellar armor and had a calm expression beside him. The sarcasm on his lips deepened: "And this one... tsk tsk, our famous 'Lightning Boy' Tiberius!" He deliberately dragged out the word "Lightning," his tone full of contempt.

"Lightning boy, I heard Lord Lisangzhuo was generous and rewarded you with a beautiful female slave? How does it taste? It must be much better than those rough men in the military camp, right? Speaking of which, you didn't earn your title of 'Lightning' by quickly going in and out of women's beds, did you? Do you want me to demonstrate my real 'skills' to you?"

Even more vulgar and crude laughter erupted, filled with malice.

Lisanro's face instantly turned bright red, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails almost dug into his palms. He was about to retort when Tiberius gently pulled his arm.

Tiberio didn't even glance at Mario, calmly gazing at the noisy field ahead, as if the profanities were merely flies buzzing past his ears. He whispered to Risanro, "Risanro, a mad dog barks, are we going to bark back like a dog? Save your energy, we'll see who's better on the field later."

Mario, seeing that his carefully prepared provocation had been like punching cotton, with the other side not responding at all, felt bored and spat disdainfully in Tiberius's direction.

"You spineless coward!" Mario cursed. "A coward's nephew is a coward indeed!"

Tiberius turned around abruptly.

"You damned idiot, I suggest you shut your stinking mouth," Tiberius said in a tone of sarcasm that Lisanro had never heard before. "I suggest you immediately shut your stinking mouth, which's still covered in filth, after it's just been pulled from your ass. The smell is too strong; my nose can't stand the smell of excrement!"

"Damn it, who do you think you are!" Mario jumped three feet high, provoked by Tiberius's words. "You're just a mercenary's nephew, who knows which relative's bastard you're born of! You dare stand here and curse me? You bastard!"

"Who are you calling a bastard?" Tiberius glared at Mario, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword.

"You bastard!" Mario drew his sword and pointed it at Tiberius's nose!

"Yeah! It's that bastard who's insulting my friend!" Risangro said sarcastically.

As a young nobleman who was well-versed in rhetoric, grammar, and logic, he did not miss this precious opportunity after hearing Tiberius's words and immediately began to laugh and mock him.

"Sure enough, no matter how rich a nouveau riche is, he's still just a nouveau riche!" Risangro pressed his advantage, relentlessly attacking Mario Ferrero's sore spot.

"Etiquette, elegance, manners befitting one's status... you haven't learned a single one! I think your father is raising you to be the next nouveau riche, or is your shallow mind simply incapable of understanding these words?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Lisangluo suddenly said with a sarcastic laugh, "Perhaps your father didn't intend for you to learn these things. Otherwise, you'd have to come to my house to apologize to me while putting on airs like a nobleman! Wouldn't that be too hurtful?"

What Li Sanro was referring to was, of course, the end of the Shadow War in 98 AC: the Ferrero family, having exhausted their treasury ahead of schedule, voluntarily withdrew from the war.

That night, Gasto Ferrero went to the Rogal family's mansion to request a ceasefire, but Lisandro, a ruthless fellow, kept Gasto occupied all night and secretly sent people to lure onlookers.

The next morning, as Gastos's carriage attempted to slip silently out of the side gate of the Rogal's mansion, all those in the city of Lis "coincidentally" witnessed the Ferrero family bowing down to the Rogal family.

"Rojall, how dare you insult my father! How dare you..." Mario was completely enraged. He raised his sword and slowly walked towards Tiberius and Lisanlo.

"You will pay the price for this!"


Tip: You can use left, right, A and D keyboard keys to browse between chapters.