"Mercenaries!" Harui suddenly shouted. "Your captain refused to kill this Lannister bastard in front of you—not out of kindness, but because he didn't dare offend House Lannister! He wants to revive his own house, reclaim his grandfather's castle, and live a noble life in Westeros."
Since he couldn't prove Ian was a fraud, Harui simply acknowledged him as a Lannister bastard.
"But you don't have to care about any of that. I'm offering eighty gold dragons for his head! With that money, you could disappear to Essos and leave behind this blood-soaked life. No more dancing on knife edges." Harui raised his coin pouch high. It was his final gamble.
In an instant, the mercenaries—who had quieted down due to Sir Karmel's earlier command—began to stir again.
Eighty gold dragons.
Most of them had never seen that much money in their entire lives. In the face of such temptation, who gave a damn about their captain's honor? Or the threat of House Lannister?
Screw it. Let the White Walkers sort it out.
"He's right there, helpless. Stop hesitating—every second you delay, that reward gets split among more hands!" Harui continued to goad them, then turned to Ian with a smug grin.
But Ian was smiling too.
Harui's expression froze.
He turned and saw Karmel glaring at him, and it finally dawned on him—he'd overstepped. He'd just tried to bribe Karmel's men right in front of him.
But so what? Karmel was a man bound by honor. He wouldn't raise his sword against his own employer.
"You'll still protect me, won't you? You swore an oath," Harui said with smug confidence, a hint of madness creeping into his grin. "You won't break your word, will you?"
Karmel turned his face away, silent—but that was answer enough.
Harui laughed louder.
But Ian was still smirking, his gaze mocking.
Why the hell are you smiling?!
You smug bastard, what gives you the right?
So what if you have money? I've turned your own mercenaries against you!
You could offer them double, even ten or a hundred times my price—and they still wouldn't dare touch me. Not with Karmel and his men guarding me. They'll never come for me. I've already won. You're finished!
"I'll pay the same rate he did," Ian said lightly to the mercenaries surrounding him. "Just protect me until my retainers arrive."
He turned back to Harui, smiling playfully.
Harui's grin stiffened. It took him a full half-minute to understand what Ian had just done—and the realization hit like a hammer.
Because, honestly? He had to admit… he couldn't have handled this any better himself.
Ian's move had at least two strokes of brilliance. First, he didn't try to turn the mercenaries against Harui. That would've forced a direct confrontation with Karmel, and no matter how much gold was on the table, none of these men would've dared raise a blade against Harui while Karmel stood by his side.
Instead, Ian took a step back—and sidestepped Karmel entirely.
Second, and more subtly, Ian didn't buy his life with ransom. He paid for protection. That small shift in wording—from ransom to payment—changed everything.
A ransom implied he was still a hostage, and the mercenaries were his enemies. That would put them at risk of retaliation from House Lannister.
But "payment for services rendered"? That reframed their relationship as a business transaction, not treason.
In a world obsessed with legitimacy and noble justification, the bastard had given these mercenaries the one thing they truly needed—peace of mind.
"As you command, ser," one of the mercenaries said, bowing to Ian.
"My sword is yours." The others followed, turning on Harui in waves. Even those who had hesitated earlier joined in.
It was a no-brainer. Ian's offer honored Karmel's earlier decision to spare him, and it came with no risk of Lannister vengeance. They didn't even have to fight—just stand there. Free money.
Harui's gold, on the other hand? That was buying treason.
Within moments, only Karmel's five sworn men remained at his side. Everyone else had rallied to Ian.
"Well, that turned around quickly," Ian said with a snap of his fingers, grinning at Harui.
"I thought I had you in checkmate," Harui muttered. "Still… maybe this isn't a loss. At worst, it's a draw."
Ian didn't answer. He just watched him.
"What, you still want to kill me?" Harui snapped, irritated by Ian's cold, dismissive stare. He glanced at Karmel. "He swore an oath to me!"
"You did," Karmel said, though he didn't understand what Ian and Harui were arguing about.
"I did," Ian agreed, gaze shifting toward the dirt road leading out of Saltwell.
The setting sun bathed the world in warm amber as two mounted knights emerged from the trees, side by side. Both wore full plate—one in pale green, the other in black.
The green knight's face was visible under a raised visor. Bearded, broad-shouldered, imposing. His red-draped warhorse matched his formidable presence. A heavy round shield rested on his back.
The black knight was even larger—over seven feet tall, carrying a massive two-handed sword nearly six feet long. He wore no helmet, his ash-brown hair flowing loose. Despite his size, his features were strikingly handsome, with sharp eyes and a sculpted face.
"My retainers have arrived," Ian announced, smiling at the mercenaries now guarding him.
No one noticed his clenched fists or the quickening of his breath.
"Retainers?" Old Adam, the mercenary who'd pretended to be a foreman, stared in disbelief. "Seven hells! Your retainers wear full plate?!"
Each suit was worth at least ten gold dragons.
"I'm a bastard," Ian replied, shrugging. "If I don't treat my men well, why would they follow me? It's not like I have anything but money."
"Money's a good thing," Adam muttered.
"What was that?"
"N-nothing, ser."
As the two knights drew closer, the mercenaries tensed. They'd expected a pair of squires at most—these two were anything but.
"Relax," Ian said aloud. "They're mine. And they brought your pay."
He turned to Adam. "Weapons down."
Adam quickly relayed the order. "You heard him! He's our employer—show some respect!"
Adam clearly held sway. The others hesitated, but eventually lowered their weapons.
Ian nodded to him, then raised one hand high and gestured for the knights to stop.
They obeyed instantly.
"You there—Old Dog—toss the eighty dragons over here. Yes, toss."
The knights exchanged a long look—seven seconds, at least—before the one in green finally reached for the coin pouch at his belt and began counting.
"Did he just call that guy… Old Dog?" Adam blinked at Ian.
"Son of a kitchen servant. He's been with me since before my father took me in," Ian said with a grin. "Bit slow, but loyal. Once I reclaim my name, I'll see about knighting him."
"Knighting… a cook's son?"
"Loyal service deserves reward. That's my principle. And bastards don't look down on birth—we were never noble to begin with."
"Man's lucky to have a lord like you."
Ian chuckled. "Just talk for now. My father still needs months to recover before he can marry my mother. Only then will I truly become a Lannister."
The green-armored knight finished counting, then began tossing coins across the dirt in three handfuls. Gold scattered across the ground, and the mercenaries scrambled for it like wolves.
"House Lannister has paid its debts. Farewell, gentlemen." Ian mounted up and galloped toward the knights.
As he passed, he glanced back at Harui.
That look chilled Harui to the bone.
"I want to leave. Now!" Harui barked. "Karmel, take me away—now!"
"Relax. Ian swore an oath. He—"
"He's not a damn Lannister!" Harui roared.
"You're on that again…" Karmel sighed. He didn't understand his employer's obsession.
"I don't care. I'm leaving." Harui scrambled onto a worn-out horse, clutching the neck awkwardly due to his poor riding skills. "Let's go! Hurry!"
Karmel turned to issue the order—but none of his men moved.
They were all staring past him, mouths slightly open.
He followed their gaze.
Ian had reached his knights. He was holding a gold bar high over his head.
The red-gold brick caught the last rays of sunlight, glowing like something out of a fairy tale.
And suddenly, Karmel understood everything.