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Chapter 226: The Sealord’s Palace
🕑 Added 2025-03-24 12:16:57 +0000 UTCLynd left the Moon Pool, swiftly crossing the street and making his way to the waterfront. There, he boarded a small boat that had been prepared in advance. Using telekinesis, he controlled the vessel as if it were a speedboat, guiding it straight toward the waters beneath the island where the Sealord's Palace stood.
The island housing the Sealord's Palace was located in the northeastern corner of Braavos. Its landscape was dominated by steep cliffs, making it an unsuitable place for most constructions.
However, the builders of the Sealord’s Palace had utilized these cliffs, reinforcing their foundations atop the sheer rock faces to create a palace suspended in the sky.
The entire structure stood isolated on the island, connected only to the Iron Bank on the south side by two arching bridges.
For an ordinary person to reach the Sealord’s Palace, they would first have to pass through the heavily guarded defenses of the Iron Bank, navigate its many layers of traps, and cross the high-altitude stone bridge. From there, they would need to pass through the checkpoint at the bridge’s midpoint before reaching the palace’s front courtyard, which was guarded by the elite warriors known as the Sealord’s Guard.
Even if one managed to get past the Sealord’s Guard, the garden beyond was another formidable challenge. It was home to a vast collection of rare and exotic creatures from around the world, most of which were highly dangerous and deadly—such as the Manticore.
Only after overcoming all these obstacles could one reach the Sealord’s personal quarters, located on the northern cliffside of the palace—the highest point in all of Braavos. From there, one could not only see the entire city but also the sea beyond. In times of war, this vantage point served as the most strategic lookout.
Lynd guided the small boat into the waters beneath the palace’s viewing platform. Looking up at the steep cliffs and sheer stone foundation ahead, he activated the power of the Nameless King’s rune, forming the Storm Dragon rune. A whirlwind surged beneath him, lifting him into the air as he shot toward the viewing platform.
Within moments, he reached a ledge just below the platform and landed on the spout of a stone gargoyle.
Standing atop the gargoyle, Lynd straightened his posture and peered through the gaps in the stone railing surrounding the platform, scanning the scene inside.
He spotted about seven or eight guards stationed around the Sealord’s residence. Since they were positioned on the northern cliffside—an approach deemed impossible to scale—the Sealord’s Guard stationed there were noticeably lax in their vigilance.
Beyond the fixed guards, there was also a rotating patrol of dozens of Sealord’s Guards who periodically emerged from the cloister leading to the Sealord’s quarters, conducting a sweep of the area before returning inside.
Lynd observed them for a while, memorizing their patrol patterns and positioning. Once he was certain of their routine, he reached into his waist pocket and retrieved a small wax-sealed sphere. Crushing it between his fingers, he released a fine powder into the air.
The drifting powder, carried by the gentle breeze he conjured, remained dispersed yet controlled, seamlessly merging into the airflow. Under his guidance, it swept toward the stationary guards and the patrol unit that had just emerged from the cloister.
As the powder drifted over them, the guards merely noticed a faint change in the surrounding scent, entirely unaware that they had been ensnared. It wasn’t until the patrol team approached Lynd’s hiding spot that the drug took full effect—one by one, they collapsed where they stood, falling into a deep, unshakable slumber.
Lynd leaped onto the platform and, using the map of the Sealord’s Palace that Jaqna had provided, moved toward the Sealord’s quarters. As he advanced, he continued crushing more sleeping powder spheres, adding them to the breeze under his control, allowing the sedative mist to spread further ahead of him.
Within the palace, the guards fell like puppets with their strings cut. Some noticed something was amiss but reacted too late, while others, having undergone some form of resistance training, managed to endure for a brief moment longer before succumbing to unconsciousness.
Lynd halted his use of the sleeping powder only when he reached the entrance to the Sealord’s study. Instead, he directed the remaining powder toward the gardens at the front of the palace.
Inside the study, the Sealord had already noticed the disturbances outside. He was not alone—more than a dozen personal guards, including Qarro, were stationed within, standing ready to protect him.
Lynd refrained from using the powder inside the study for a crucial reason: if the Sealord were to inhale it, he would be rendered unconscious as well. Given the potency of the drug, even if Lynd threw him into the sea, he wouldn’t wake up. And an unconscious Sealord was of no use—Lynd needed him awake to extract information.
By attuning himself to the sounds of their breathing, Lynd calculated the number of people in the study and their approximate positions. Once he had confirmed their placement, he stepped forward and, without hesitation, pushed open the doors.
The so-called study was, in truth, a small library. Rows of bookshelves were neatly arranged in concentric circles around the room. At the center stood a few chairs and a desk, giving the space a sparse yet orderly appearance.
At that moment, the Sealord stood beside his desk, with Chief Swordsman Qarro in front of him. Around them, a dozen Masters of the Water Dance stood guard, their long swords unsheathed and gripped tightly in their hands.
The moment they saw Lynd push open the door and step inside, a wave of tension spread through the room. Every one of them knew exactly who he was.
“Sealord Ferrego Antaryon,” Lynd addressed the middle-aged man before him, who was slightly overweight and whose fingers were adorned with rings.
“The Chosen One, Lynd Tarran,” Ferrego responded, acknowledging Lynd’s identity.
Lynd cast a glance at the surrounding guards and spoke calmly. “Put away your weapons. I am not your enemy. If I had wanted to kill you, you would already be dead. That’s not a threat—it’s simply a fact.”
His gaze then shifted to Ferrego, who was doing his best to maintain composure. “I didn’t want to meet you like this. I had planned to come quietly, without alerting anyone. But you just had to stir things up, to expose my presence, even sending people to hunt me down. I honestly don’t know what you were thinking. You left me no choice but to use more… direct methods to see you. Tell me, are you satisfied with how this turned out?”
Ferrego bristled at the condescending tone, instinctively wanting to retort, but no argument came to mind. Everything Lynd said was true—he had brought this upon himself.
Lynd wasted no time. “I’m here for the magic armor in your possession.”
Ferrego sighed. “I know. I knew the moment I bought it.”
“Then why did you buy it?” Lynd asked bluntly.
Ferrego had no response.
Lynd was done with pleasantries. “Take me to your treasure vault. Let’s get this over with. I’d like to go home.”
Ferrego’s face darkened at Lynd’s tone. Since the day he became Sealord, no one had dared to speak to him in such an imperious manner.
Yet, he found himself unable to retaliate. As Lynd had pointed out, despite being surrounded by formidable guards, he felt no sense of security at all.
“…Put away your weapons,” Ferrego finally ordered, taking a deep breath to suppress his frustration. Then, with a glance at his chief swordsman, he continued, “Qarro, you’re coming with me. The rest of you, stay here.”
With that, he stepped away from the protective circle of his guards. Qarro immediately followed. As he passed by Lynd, his hand instinctively drifted toward the curved blade at his waist. He was clearly considering whether he could strike Lynd down in a single decisive blow at this distance.
Lynd, fully aware of Qarro’s intent, deliberately exposed his vital spots as if he were completely defenseless.
Qarro hesitated. In the end, he refrained—not because he had seen through Lynd’s ploy, but because if he struck and failed, the consequences would fall upon the Sealord. A true bodyguard would not act so recklessly.
The group entered through a concealed door and descended a wide spiral staircase, arriving in the underground chambers of the Sealord’s Palace.
Inside, around fifty Sealord’s Guards, clad in full plate armor and wielding long axes, stood watch. As soon as Ferrego entered, they all bowed in unison.
Ferrego paused, deep in thought, then turned slightly to glance at Lynd, as if contemplating whether these men could overwhelm him.
In the end, he dismissed the idea. He recalled the method Lynd had used to incapacitate his palace guards—some sort of toxin. If Lynd had more of it, it wouldn’t matter if there were fifty guards, or even a hundred, or a thousand. They would all fall just as easily.
With that realization, Ferrego abandoned any hope of resistance. There was no point. He had no choice but to cooperate.
The group moved through the underground palace until they reached its farthest end.
There, a massive bronze door loomed before them, towering four meters high and spanning six meters across. Seated on either side of the entrance were several blind men, each positioned next to a large wheeled push rod, reminiscent of a millstone mechanism.
Ferrego stepped forward and retrieved a hexagonal box from his robes. He began adjusting a series of small knobs on its surface, causing sharp, irregularly shaped teeth to extend from within, forming a uniquely configured key.
He approached the door, inserted the box into the keyhole, and carefully adjusted the knobs, ensuring each tooth slotted in at the correct angle. One by one, the gears aligned within the lock.
Once the key was fully inserted, Ferrego struck a small bell embedded in the bronze door and stepped back.
The blind men, hearing the chime, immediately rose to their feet. Each of them reached out, gripping the large wheeled push rods, and began rotating them—some clockwise, others counterclockwise—like beasts of burden turning a millstone.
A series of mechanical clicks echoed from within the massive bronze doors, followed by the slow, grinding sound of their heavy panels shifting open.
The moment the doors parted, whale oil lamps flared to life, ignited by the vault’s intricate mechanisms. Their flickering light illuminated the vast treasure chamber, revealing rows of display cases filled with exquisite riches. Lynd's eyes swept over the collection—porcelain vases from the golden Celestial Empire of Yi Ti, gemstone jewelry from Slaver’s Bay, and an assortment of strange and ancient artifacts.
These were the accumulated treasures of the Sealords, added to by each generation. While contributing to the vault was a simple matter, withdrawing anything required an arduous process, which resulted in the steady expansion of its contents. In terms of sheer value, the wealth stored here was not far off from what lay within the Iron Bank itself.
However, while the vast fortune might have tempted any ordinary person, the moment the doors opened, it was not the treasure that drew the attention of everyone except Lynd—it was the sudden, bone-chilling cold.
A wave of frigid air rushed out of the vault, spreading rapidly through the underground chamber. Within moments, the entire space was engulfed in an unnatural winter, and the temperature plummeted.
They quickly realized that the Sealord’s treasure vault had become a frozen chamber. White mist curled through the air, and a thick layer of frost coated the ground.
“What in the world is going on?” Sealord Ferrego’s eyes widened in shock, his voice laced with disbelief.
Lynd, however, remained completely unfazed. He could feel the unmistakable presence of the Frozen Dragon Rune’s magic within the icy air.
Without hesitation, he stepped forward, striding into the treasure vault toward the source of the magic.
Behind him, Ferrego hesitated. He cast a quick glance at the still-open bronze doors, a flicker of contemplation in his eyes—perhaps considering an alternative course of action.
But in the end, he suppressed the thought. There was something unnerving about Lynd, something beyond comprehension. He had no idea what other abilities Lynd possessed, and he suspected that even if he were to seal the doors and trap him inside, Lynd would find a way out. If that happened, there would be no chance for negotiation—only enmity without end.
Reluctantly, he let the temptation slip away and followed Lynd into the vault.
As they walked deeper inside, Ferrego couldn’t help but wonder—how did Lynd know exactly where the magic armor was stored?
Before he could voice the question, they arrived at their destination.
There, encased in a thick layer of solid ice, was the magic armor.
Even with the frost obscuring it, Lynd could make out the armor’s full design.
Just as the rumors described, the exterior was inlaid with a multitude of gemstones, making it appear excessively opulent—to the point of garishness.
Much like the patterns and dragon runes carved into the Banished Knight’s armor on the statue of the Storm God, the markings on this armor had been extensively altered. The modifications introduced countless breaks and flaws, stripping the runes of their original power and reducing them to mere ornamentation.
The true source of the armor’s magic lay elsewhere—embedded in its chest plate was a solid slab of Valyrian steel, upon which a fully intact Frozen Dragon Rune had been engraved.
One look, and Lynd understood.
The blacksmiths of Qohor had merely copied the appearance of the Banished Knight’s armor. The magic, however, had been directly taken from the Frozen Dragon Rune Necklace—an artifact of his own design, originally created for the Stone Giants.
The key difference was that the Stone Giants were an inherently magical race. Their bodies naturally adjusted to magical energy, allowing them to regulate the freezing power of the rune. With them, the necklace maintained a delicate balance, preventing excessive frost from accumulating.
The Qohorik craftsmen and sorcerers, however, had taken a far more crude approach. Instead of understanding its function, they had simply embedded the rune into a suit of armor without any consideration for magical equilibrium. The result? A continuous accumulation of freezing energy, which had now turned the vault into a growing epicenter of cold.
And this was only the beginning.
As time passed, the rune’s magic would continue to build, expanding the freezing effect further and further. Left unchecked, it was entirely possible that the entire underground treasure vault would eventually be encased in solid ice.
Yet, none of that interested Lynd in the slightest.
His thoughts were elsewhere—wondering where his magic armor was.
