NOVEL WEB Chapter 389: Chapter 387: Sorry, This Is a Coup
Even the Sea King was elected through unofficial means by the Doctors and the Watchers.
Without a doubt, the core power of Braavos belonged to the council formed by them.
Before Jello Dayne entered the Sea King's Palace as the Dragon Queen's envoy, the council had already split into two differing voices regarding their stance on her.
Two voices, two factions.
Well, not exactly a hostile faction and a friendly one.
Everyone saw the Dragon Queen as an enemy of Braavos—that much was clear.
The division lay in how deeply Braavos should be involved with the Allied Forces.
A nation opposed to slavery like Braavos absolutely could not join the Allied Forces, or else they'd have no way to justify it to the public—it would be like slapping their ancestors in the face.
The founders of Braavos swore: No man, woman, or child in Braavos would ever be a slave, nor would they participate in the slave trade.
This was the First Law of Braavos, carved onto the arch bridge that spanned the Long Canal.
Within the council of Doctors and Watchers, a radical group believed the Dragon Queen should be treated entirely as an enemy—they supported all of her enemies and opposed all of her allies.
Even if they didn't formally join the Allied Forces or the United Nations, they still needed to act in the same way: blockade Slaver's Bay and the Dragon Queen's sphere of influence, such as Dragonstone.
The other faction did not disagree with the radical stance against the Dragon Queen, but they believed Braavos didn't need to make its position so obvious.
First of all, the Dragon Queen might not even survive the Allied Forces.
If the Allies destroyed Slaver's Bay, then even if the Dragon Queen survived, she would no longer pose a threat to Braavos's invisible world-dominating position.
Secondly, so far the Dragon Queen had only abolished slavery in Slaver's Bay—she hadn't challenged the throne of world dominance.
Maybe she was just another fool like past Targaryens.
Even if she had the power to dominate the world, perhaps she would be satisfied just sitting on that Iron Throne?
After all, the Dragon Queen had never proactively declared war on Valyria, Qarth, New Ghis, Lys, or other city-states. It was the slave-trading powers who had united against her.
Lastly, the Dragon Queen had dragons—and only dragons could fight dragons.
The immediate priority was to join forces with the Valyrians and hatch dragons, fulfilling the dreams of their ancestors for hundreds of years.
If Braavos could hatch dragons, it would not only ensure its invincibility, but also provide a chance to move from shadow ruler to true ruler.
But the White Knight's unexpected visit stirred the waters like a gust of wind disturbing a still lake—leaving the council restless.
If there were waves on a flat surface, how could they remain calm when the Dragon Queen was actively provoking their hearts?
Do it, or not?
That was the question.
Do what?
Uh… what else could it be?
Obviously, the same thing that every qualified emperor throughout history has done.
Well, Xiang Yu didn't do it—and that's why he failed.
It was precisely because Xiang Yu didn't do it and failed that every emperor and warlord of later dynasties took it as a lesson—some even treated him as a negative example.
Because of this, when they did do it, they felt no pangs of conscience.
—That's the true grandeur of emperors!
They spoke as if it were perfectly natural, and even historians and common folk agreed wholeheartedly.
People in this world were a bit more naive; in over 8,000 years of history, there had been only one known "rat chef."
Or perhaps they were still living in an era before the likes of Duke Xiang of Song—an age where ritual and propriety still held sway, not yet evolved into the "Guiguzi period" of cunning and deception.
On the matter of whether to act or not, the Braavosi were highly hesitant. The overwhelming majority leaned toward "not acting."
The Dragon Queen, it seemed, had become far more astute—she never even approached the Sea King's Palace, so even if they wanted to act, they couldn't.
The Braavosi actually breathed a huge sigh of relief.
Yet, missing such a golden opportunity left them with inevitable feelings of regret.
With mixed emotions, the Doctors and Watchers followed behind the Sea King's fleet and quietly arrived at Moon Pool, without having made any final decisions—only planning to improvise based on the Dragon Queen's actions.
Fatty Bessaro brought them the Dragon Queen's "latest assessment."
A 20-meter-long galley with a purple hull, purple decks, purple oars, and purple sails.
On the second level of the ship's deck was a warm, cozy hall. Forty square meters of space glowed brightly under the light of butter-candle chandeliers.
Over twenty middle-aged and elderly individuals dressed in deep blue, dark purple, brown, black, and other rich-toned formal attire sat in a circle, listening as the fat man in the center spoke.
"Unfortunately, she might have inherited a trace of the Targaryens' 'mad blood,' but not their 'foolish blood.' She is ambitious and confident in the power of dragons. It's highly likely she won't be content ruling just Slaver's Bay and Westeros," Bessaro said seriously.
"Damn!" a gaunt-faced Doctor groaned.
"She knows of the connection between the Faceless Men and Braavos, yet she doesn't hold the House of Black and White in the usual reverence.
Perhaps it's because she survived an assassination attempt. Or perhaps it's her mastery of sorcery—so confident she doesn't fear the Faceless Men's threats," Bessaro continued.
"This is bad," said a silver-haired, purple-eyed, sharp-featured middle-aged man, shaking his head.
His name was Gobany Alarson, a Valyrian of Valantine descent.
When Daenerys was four, she had visited Alarson's father with Ser Willem Darry.
The identity she used while hiding in Valyria—Layla Alarson—was nominally supposed to be Gobany's cousin.
However, twelve years ago, the Alarson family wasn't prominent enough to hold a Doctor's seat or serve as a guardian of the Iron Bank.
At most, Gobany's father was just a regular real estate merchant in the city, and the family lived off rent collected from a single street.
"The Faceless Man who was released by Daenerys has sent back information. The assassination wasn't a total failure. The Dragon Queen had been injured but used mysterious magic to turn the tide and seriously wound the attacker," Bessaro explained.
"So it's true—the news from Valyria—that she's inherited the full legacy of the Grand Sorcerers and has even greater talent than any of them?" a Doctor asked in alarm.
"The Benevolent One also practices sorcery. Could he uncover her secrets?" asked the Doctor General, leaning on a cane.
The Doctor General was like a knockoff version of the Hand of the King—he didn't wield as much power, but unlike the Hand, his authority wasn't entirely dependent on the ruler's trust.
There was a certain air of a Grand Secretary from the Ming Dynasty about him.
"A kind person can't see through her at all, only offering the vague evaluation: 'illusory and unfathomable,'" Bessaro shook his head and said.
"This is trouble," everyone sighed.
"Daenerys wishes to cooperate with us—over the next five years, she intends to purchase grain on a global scale." With that, Bessaro explained the grain acquisition plan in detail.
"Damn it, she's trying to copy us? After learning of the White Walkers, she plans to take advantage of the Long Night to use grain to harvest the world's gold—and even global dominance," someone quickly caught on and cursed, face darkening.
"Perhaps," Bessaro said with a relaxed smile. "For us, this is good news—we make money while also greatly weakening her."
"Indeed." Everyone laughed joyfully.
The Chief Scholar laughed for a while, then voiced his concern: "The White Walkers do not equate to the Long Night—her ambitions are doomed to fail. But the behavior itself shows she has aspirations to rule the world. She has dragons and ambition—this is deeply troubling!"
"In fact, she has made no effort to hide her ambitions toward the Free Cities. Besides trying to use the Iron Bank as a middleman for buying grain, she also plans to purchase ships and sail to the Far East to bring the wildlings to the Disputed Lands," Bessaro said gravely.
"What? She's targeting Tyrosh and Myr?" the Chief Scholar exclaimed.
"A genius! She truly is a genius!" Copernio suddenly realized. "No wonder the allied forces are restless—advance troops have already left Volantis and are marching down the Valyrian Road toward Mataris. Meanwhile, she's been wandering around, when in fact, she's preparing to raid the homeland of the alliance."
"You're saying she plans to have the wildlings attack the 'Three Daughters' to draw the main force of the alliance and ease the pressure on Slaver's Bay?" a guard asked, half in doubt.
"Exactly!" Copernio confirmed. "Think about it—when tens of thousands of wildlings pour into the Disputed Lands, what will the fleets of the 'Three Daughters' currently stationed in Volantis do?"
"They'll rush home to expel the wildlings," everyone mused.
"We cannot sell her ships!" the Chief Scholar said coldly.
"Braavos is not the only one selling ships. I refused her, even subtly threatened her, but she remained determined. Everyone, tell me—how should we handle this?" Bessaro asked.
"It's not about how to handle this matter—it's about how to handle her. She's in Braavos right now, right under our crossbows and blades.
She is the source of all trouble, the very center of evil.
End her, and by ending the last Targaryen, peace under Braavosi rule will be eternal," Copernio stood up, waved his hands, and shouted passionately.
Thump! The Chief Scholar stomped his cane hard and shouted angrily, "No! We swore an oath. The Sea Lord swore an oath!"
Copernio clenched his teeth, scanning the faces of his colleagues around him, silently counting those who met his gaze.
[Fifteen scholars, eight guards, plus Keykeeper Bessaro—twenty-four people. Twenty-two opened their eyes and nodded at me. Only two closed their eyes. It's time!]
In a flash, Copernio made his decision.
"Forgive me, but we cannot let Braavos's future be destroyed by our generation." He unbuttoned his collar to ease his labored breathing.
Clang— Copernio drew the assassin's blade from his waist and pointed it at the assembled scholars and guards. Every word from his mouth burned like hot coals in his lungs: "I'm sorry. I'm rebelling. Yes, this is a coup! As of now, I, Copernio Yarrason, am taking control of the council."
"Copernio, what is it that you want?" the Chief Scholar asked.
"I want you to immediately strip Ferrego Antaryon of his title as Sea Lord and elect me as the new Sea Lord. I also want immediate control of the Sea Lord's Purple Sails Fleet. I will end the Mother of Dragons for Braavos."
Sweat poured down Copernio's face, his cheeks flushed red like steamed crab shells, his mind spinning.
After finishing his scripted lines, he seemed to recall something and shouted, "Those who wish to join me—stand up!"
Immediately, two scholars and one guard stood up, faces conflicted, and walked behind Copernio.
Thump, thump, thump! Powerful footsteps rang out densely on the wooden staircase. Amid the shocked cries of the onlookers outside, a group of armored soldiers armed with crossbows and swords stormed into the "True Dragon Villa."
They swiftly subdued the dazed flower-clad assassins on the first floor, then charged upstairs without pause, surrounding the Dragon Queen, Jelo, the Sea Lord, and the First Sword on the third floor.
The soldiers stood like trunks in a forest, their arrows dense as branches. The 150-square-meter tavern hall turned meeting room was now completely encircled by two hundred soldiers in purple armor, capes flowing.
"O Many-Faced God… you…" Sea Lord Ferrego's lips trembled as he glared at the soldiers in purple. "What are you doing?"
"Forgive us, Your Majesties—this is a coup!"
(End of Chapter)
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