Chapter 155: Lyanna's Ghost
Ian chuckled inwardly. Illyrio thought he was amazed by the intricate and wondrous mechanical functions, unaware that he was simply envious of the crystals and gems adorning it.
Ian put down the clock and picked up a steel shield from the side.
Generally speaking, steel shields had little practical value in combat, especially in this world without firearms. After all, wooden shields were sufficient for most defensive needs and were much lighter than steel shields.
Of course, the steel shield in Ian's hand wasn't intended for actual combat either. Both the inside and outside of the shield were decorated with glazed enamel depicting the ancient Valyrian Dragon Lords, the dragons on them lifelike and exquisite.
"This is an artwork created by a master painter from Volantis, telling the story of the ancient Valyrian Dragon Lords conquering the Rhoynar," Illyrio continued, seemingly quite pleased with showing off his collection.
Unfortunately, this wasn't Valyrian steel, Ian thought, and then put the shield down.
Ian's gaze then swept over a set of drinking vessels, consisting of a silver pitcher and four glasses.
"That's the work of a master craftsman from Tyrosh—it's the purest, most transparent glass you can find in the world," Illyrio explained.
This reminded Ian of jade. The more glass-like and translucent a piece is, the more valuable it becomes, even though glass itself isn't particularly valuable—of course, that's a story from the post-industrial era.
In this era, such pure glassware would undoubtedly be priceless treasures.
But his gaze didn't linger there, instead sweeping over a horn made of stag antlers and steel, resting on a silver base, and a multi-layered pearl necklace hanging from a bronze statue—the necklace itself was two meters long.
Ian's gaze continued to sweep forward, taking in a golden crown inlaid with a large piece of black onyx, a massive blue-and-white porcelain vase from Yi Ti, an ornate Summer Islander fan painted with exotic scenes, and a black dragonbone bow.
Finally, Ian's gaze settled on a cedarwood chest.
That was his target for the night.
"The dragon eggs you wanted to see are in that box," Illyrio said.
"May I open it?"
Illyrio gestured for him to proceed.
So Ian carefully opened the box.
Three stones appeared before his eyes.
One was deep green with many bronze spots, another was pale cream with gold streaks, and the last one was black as a midnight sea, yet with vibrant dark red waves and swirls rippling across its surface.
"These are truly beautiful," Ian exclaimed. He reached out and touched one of them. It looked like ceramic or enamel, but its texture was rich, and he could clearly feel the tiny scales on its surface.
The stone was large—Ian couldn't fully grasp it with one hand. He withdrew his hand, lost in thought.
"These are dragon eggs from the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai," Magister Illyrio stroked his oiled, forked beard smugly, seeing Ian's stunned expression. "They've been fossilized for ages, yet they're still beautiful and vibrant."
"This is truly the best gift. If it weren't for these, I would have chosen them myself," Ian said tentatively, in a joking tone.
"They're beautiful, aren't they?" Illyrio chuckled. "But these are for Daenerys. Only little girls like pretty things. If you want to curry favor with Khal Drogo, this isn't a good choice."
Ian wasn't annoyed—he hadn't expected Illyrio to give him such a valuable gift anyway.
So he turned his back to Illyrio, closed the box again, and stood up.
"You're right," Ian picked up the dragonbone bow from the shelf. "According to Dothraki custom, only items used by men are given to the Khal during the wedding ceremony. I want to befriend Drogo, so giving him a weapon would show more sincerity."
After returning to his residence, Ian opened the system and began to check his status.
[Ian: Strength 32, Agility 27, Spirit 19
Skills: Basic Etiquette, Basic Common Tongue Literacy, Sword Mastery, Advanced Horsemanship, Intermediate Lance, Beginner Skinchanger, Greenseer Foundation
Attribute Points: 2
Skill Points: 4
Points: 52
Items: Basic Skill Selection Scroll, Skill Upgrade Scroll]
Because Ian spent 10 points to expand his system inventory before visiting Illyrio, his current point total is 52.
Frankly, with the upcoming third month's settlement approaching, this score makes his position at the top of the leaderboard less certain than before.
Although points from quests and player kills are calculable, points from achievements are always a variable.
If a player surpasses him in points this time, Ian wouldn't be too surprised, given how many points he's spent this month.
Of course, due to the urgency of the situation, he had to expand his inventory at this time to ensure his core interests later.
After checking the items in his system inventory, Ian smiled and returned to his status screen.
He first allocated two attribute points to his mental strength, then upgraded his skinchanger skill by one level.
The changes to his status:
[Mental Strength: 21
Skill: Intermediate Skinchanger
Attribute Points: 0
Skill Points: 2]
After completing these adjustments, Ian went to bed, looking forward to his direct confrontation with the dragon tomorrow.
Late at night in Winterfell
"Lyanna? Is that you?" Robert Baratheon, drunk on wine, embraced the woman before him. "Lyanna, you noticed my sorrow and came to comfort me, didn't you?"
"Oh! I can actually see your face clearly. It's been so many years—this is the first time," Robert reached out and gently stroked Lyanna's cheek. "How many years has it been since I've seen your face clearly in my dreams? I had almost forgotten what you looked like."
She was so beautiful, with the Stark family's signature long face, brown hair, and gray eyes.
She was still so young—time seemed to have left no trace on her.
Just like when Robert first saw her, passionate as a galloping wild horse of the North, noble as a blooming winter rose.
"Your Grace," Lyanna struggled gently, "please don't do this, please let me go."
"You still won't forgive me," Robert said sadly, "you still blame me for not being able to save you from that bastard Rhaegar."
"Your Grace, I didn't—" She continued to struggle, but never broke free from Robert's embrace.
"But I've already avenged you. I killed that bastard with my own hands on the Trident. I crushed his ruby-studded breastplate, and then I've dreamt of killing him ten thousand times more," Robert noticed the woman in his arms had finally stopped resisting, and murmured again, "But that still can't ease the hatred in my heart."
"What use is that iron chair if I've lost you? To sit on it, I still have to bed that Lannister bitch every night. She betrayed me—she betrayed me from the very beginning. Oh—" Robert rested his head on Lyanna's shoulder, sobbing softly, "This shouldn't have happened. None of it would have, if it weren't for losing you."
"Your Grace, I'm here," Lyanna finally confirmed that Robert was completely drunk and incoherent, so she reached out and embraced him, gently stroking his back. "This time, I will never leave you again."
(End of Chapter)
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