"Soldiers of the Targaryen Dynasty!"
All eyes—both the veteran players and the fresh noobs—locked onto the newcomer.
Viserys was still decked out in his flashy armor. Using the exact same opening line, he addressed the mixed group.
Thanks to the heads-up from veterans like FaFo, the eight new players respectfully shut up and watched Viserys inject them with some isekai-grade hype.
Looking at the eight new wage slaves—one Beastmaster, four Warriors, and three Alchemists—Viserys couldn't help but sigh emotionally. My army of restoration has grown stronger yet again.
Thump, thump, thump.
The sound of synchronized marching footsteps echoed from the street corner, grabbing the players' attention.
No_Cure_For_Stupid (Alchemist) tore his gaze away from Viserys and looked towards the source of the noise.
"An army?"
"Did our secret plot to restore the kingdom get exposed already?"
"Whoever it is, they don't look friendly."
"Wrong. We are the ones who aren't friendly!"
Amidst the players' chatter, two columns of soldiers clad in armor, wielding spears and shields, halted in front of them. The Unsullied.
Look at that. Rich people really know how to make an entrance. Twenty Unsullied just for an escort.
Unlike the players, Viserys wasn't panicked. He knew exactly who it was: that fat tub of lard, Illyrio, coming to pick him up.
"Do not be alarmed. The arrival is Magister Illyrio of Pentos. Like you, he is a man of loyalty and honor, devoted to the True Dragon."
Seeing the players already drawing their swords, eager for a gang war, Viserys quickly explained the situation. He didn't want them getting excited and being scrubbed into the pavement by a squad of elite Unsullied.
As soon as Viserys finished speaking, three carriages rounded the corner and slowly approached.
"So these Spartans are on our side? Damn, got excited for nothing. I was ready to start a massacre," grumbled the new player Pineapple_Pizza_Lover, sheathing his sword while staring coldly at the Unsullied soldier standing less than a meter away.
"Why do these guys feel so... creepy?" Minister_of_Excuses nudged Step_Sis_Im_Stuck with his shoulder, locking eyes with the dead-faced soldiers opposite them.
The lead carriage came to a slow halt. Illyrio, his massive belly exposed by his open robe, hopped down from the carriage.
"Great King Viserys, please forgive your Master of Coin for his indecent attire. The weather is simply too sweltering."
Illyrio scanned the group of players blocking Viserys with a subtle glance before putting on a smile—one so deliberate it bordered on sleazy—and walking toward the King.
"I know we shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but I swear this guy looks like a treacherous courtier," Golden_Winged_Eagle (Li Peng) said to FaFo, looking completely convinced as he watched the walking meatball approach.
With all the commotion outside, even if Daenerys slept like the dead (as her brother claimed), she would have woken up by now.
And indeed, the Princess of Dragonstone was leaning against the doorframe, watching the local crime boss—Magister Illyrio—bow respectfully to Viserys.
"Ever since Ser Willem died... Sigh. I haven't seen a loyal servant dedicated to the King's Way in a long time. Magister Illyrio, you have done well!"
Viserys stood before him in magnificent armor. Just based on appearance, Illyrio had to admit the boy looked every inch a King.
But where did this Beggar King get the money for such armor? He sold his own mother's crown just to eat.
Hearing Viserys's praise, Illyrio didn't let it get to his head. He had heard too many empty words in his life.
He kept the smile plastered on his face, eyes narrowed, discreetly observing everything about this King without drawing attention to himself.
"Please, board the carriage, Your Grace. However, your... err, righteous warriors will have to follow behind on foot. But rest assured, my manse is not far from here."
The Magister timed it perfectly, extending a hand to invite the King into the carriage just as Viserys finished his long-winded speech.
Viserys nodded, then turned and gestured for Daenerys.
Stormborn never dared to defy the Sleeping Dragon. Without hesitation, the Princess scurried over to Viserys's side with small, quick steps.
Head down, timid, afraid of strangers. Illyrio's gaze lingered on the girl for only a second.
"Everyone. You have crossed the Narrow Sea, penniless, yet you still bring your swords to my side. As your King, I am deeply honored."
Viserys didn't get in the carriage immediately. Instead, he addressed the players.
"I cannot allow those loyal to the King's Way to be treated poorly. You should not be living in cramped, dilapidated shacks.
"You deserve to live in grand mansions, to be served by beauties, to eat delicious food, and to sleep in soft beds. This is the treatment a King owes his subjects. In a moment, my Master of Coin, Magister Illyrio, will assign you your rooms."
"Long live the King!"
"Hehe, His Grace has excellent taste!"
"I should probably ask about quests, but the part about 'beauties' really spoke to my soul!"
Watching the cheering "mud-legged" rabble, Illyrio's smile froze for a moment.
Proof that promising pie in the sky really works on idiots.
Through the carriage window, Viserys watched the players jogging behind the convoy. Their chaotic, messy formation was a stark contrast to the disciplined Unsullied. Viserys channeled his inner Dragon King, a wicked smirk curling his lips.
In the other carriage, Illyrio also watched the players, letting the curtain drop with a look of disdain.
Just a rabble. My Unsullied could wipe them out without breaking a sweat, the Magister thought.
If Viserys knew what he was thinking, he would have laughed at the man's ignorance of the "Fourth Scourge."
Sure, my players aren't a match for the Unsullied right now. But you'd better pray your eunuchs don't show a health bar in front of them.
Although Viserys didn't know Illyrio's thoughts, he was curious. How would the Unsullied—Westros's premier infantry, famous for their discipline—react when faced with players who literally couldn't die? Would their dead, emotionless faces finally show shock?
The carriages soon stopped. Viserys led a silent Daenerys out.
His players immediately swarmed around him.
"I don't know about the rest of the game, but the fact that I can sprint here without getting winded—when I can barely walk three steps IRL—is insane!" FBI_Open_Up stood with his hands on his hips at the back of the crowd, marveling to Zhao Xiaotian.
Zhao Xiaotian narrowed his eyes at the comment.
This game... the biggest target audience might end up being the disabled and the terminally ill.