When the distinctive black sails of the Drinker finally pierced the perpetual mist of Braavos Harbor and slowly docked at the bustling quay, a well-dressed man with a look of shrewdness mixed with awe had long been waiting at the designated spot.
Malyo, one of the pawns Euron had planted deepest in this water city, was now welcoming his master with a grandeur far surpassing that of an ordinary rchant. Behind him were several burly n who looked like servants but had sharp eyes, quickly and efficiently clearing a space for Euron from the curious crowd.
Almost simultaneously, another group marched grandly onto the pier.
They were more nurous, their equipnt mixed but radiating the fierce aura of battle-hardened survivors. Embroidered on their armor and banners was a deadly viper with head raised and tongue flicking—the Red Viper rcenary Company, which had recently risen to fa in the Disputed Lands.
The rcenaries' coarse laughter and the clang of weapons instantly drowned out the harbor's noise.
Euron's gaze swept over his loyal agent, then was firmly attracted to the figure at the head of the rcenary group. The man stood tall, wearing gorgeous Dornish-style velvet robes and scale armor. His skin was swarthy, and his black eyes burned with insatiable vitality and dangerous light.
Baelor had seen this Dornishman before and was deeply impressed. Because of the man's high status and unique personality and style, he imdiately reminded Euron: "That is Oberyn Nyros Martell, Prince of Dorne, nicknad the Red Viper. I've seen him; absolutely no mistake!"
Euron's mismatched pupils contracted slightly, a rare trace of genuine surprise flashing in his heart—Oberyn Nyros Martell?
Why would the Red Viper Prince of Dorne appear here? And dressed as a rcenary?
Euron's consciousness backtracked rapidly, piecing together all fragnts of intelligence about this prince: Oberyn Martell (258 AC - 300 AC), eventually perished in King's Landing.
In his youth, the rulers of Dorne intended to marry into Casterly Rock, so he t the Lannister twins and their dwarf brother. But what truly earned him the na "Red Viper" was the famous duel with Lord Edgar Yronwood at sixteen. The lord died from festering wounds, and everyone believed Oberyn had poisoned his blade. Since then, the nickna "Red Viper" followed him like a shadow.
In the original story, he indeed served as a rcenary in the Disputed Lands across the Narrow Sea for five years, first with the Second Sons, then forming his own company.
Thoughts flashed like lightning, but Euron maintained that faint smile of indifference.
One was a high prince of Dorne, the other the Son of the Drowned God from the Iron Islands, now eting at the docks of Braavos.
Oberyn's talent and danger were equally astonishing. His poison was as deadly as his spear, and his loyalty... unpredictable as a sumr storm. His "reputation" was not baseless—passionate, intelligent, vengeful, and reckless.
"What an unexpected fellow traveler," Euron sneered inwardly, withdrawing his gaze after a brief pause on Oberyn. "A beautiful and deadly desert viper swam across the Narrow Sea... Should I view him as a handy blade, or a cup of poison ready to backlash?"
Trust, in this setting, beca the most extravagant and unwise thought.
When the massive black hull of the Drinker approached Braavos' busy pier like a ghost, before the ropes were tied, a figure greeted them with just the right amount of enthusiasm and respect. Malyo, Euron's nail buried deepest in this city of secrets, perfectly played the role of a shrewd and sowhat influential local contact.
"Honored Lord! Welco to Braavos!" Malyo's voice was loud but polite. He bowed slightly, movents smooth and natural, expressing respect without attracting excessive attention from surrounding dockworkers and rchants.
His gaze quickly swept over Euron and the elite Ironborn behind him. Confirming no mistakes, his smile beca a bit more genuine. "The voyage must have been arduous. Malyo has prepared everything for you: hot water, hot food, and an absolutely quiet place to stay."
His words were watertight, like a well-rehearsed script. Then, as if just noticing the well-equipped, fierce group nearby, he turned to them appropriately, wearing a rchant's characteristic expression of appreciation for potential partners.
"Ah, surely you have witnessed the grace of this renowned group during your voyage?" Malyo extended an arm, elegantly pointing to the Red Viper rcenary Company. "Allow the honor to introduce you, my lord. These brave warriors are the Red Viper rcenary Company. Recently in the Disputed Lands, their na is enough to make the most stubborn enemies tremble. Their commander..."
His gaze landed on Oberyn Martell, who was observing this eting with an interested expression.
Malyo injected a just-right amount of admiration into his voice: "Is a truly outstanding leader, Commander Oberyn. His martial prowess and wisdom are widely praised in the rcenary circles of western Essos. For my lord to arrive simultaneously with them and et in Braavos is undoubtedly a clever arrangent of fate, perhaps foreshadowing a successful cooperation."
Malyo's words were like smooth silk, trying to wrap the accidental encounter into a positive on, flattering the rcenary company while subtly showing his value as well-inford and good at networking to Euron. Under his manipulation, the scene looked like a successful rendezvous carefully arranged by him, rather than an accidental encounter between two dangerous forces full of variables.
"Malyo, thank you for your hospitality!" Euron then perford a standard Westerosi noble bow to the rcenary commander, smiling: "Oberyn Martell, I have heard of your great na for a long ti. I didn't expect to et across the Narrow Sea, nor did I expect a dignified prince to form a rcenary company."
"You've seen ?"
"Never had the chance, but those in my retinue who have seen the Prince were deeply impressed."
Oberyn blinked and laughed. "Does eting feel less impressive than my reputation?"
"Far exceeds the reputation! So, having a dignified Prince as my guard makes feel uneasy."
Oberyn Martell let out a short, low laugh mixed with self-mockery and unquestionable pride. He raised his head slightly, those famous black eyes burning with fire looking straight into Euron's mismatched pupils without avoidance.
"Guard?" He repeated, tone lilting as if hearing an amusing joke. "Lord Greyjoy, you may overestimate the weight of titles east of the Narrow Sea, and underestimate a viper's caution in choosing hunting grounds."
He took a step forward, elegant as a leopard patrolling its territory, completely ignoring the salty wind and rude rcenaries around him. "In Dorne, the sun scorches the red earth, and the Water Gardens are full of sweet conspiracies. I am a Prince; every word and deed concerns the spear and sun banner of House Martell. But here," he waved casually at the vast and chaotic eastern continent, copper bracelets clinking, "in the dust raised in the Disputed Lands, under the glitter of gold in Pentos and Slaver's Bay, the identity of a prince is aningless. Here, only two things are recognized: the sharpness of your blade, and your credibility in fulfilling contracts."
"I am here not as anyone's prince," his gaze sharpened, the corner of his mouth maintaining that trademark dangerous smile, "but as the Commander of the Red Viper rcenary Company, an expert who gets things done for money. My reputation—whether you heard good or bad—is built on my ability to complete missions, not my bloodline. Your unease is unnecessary worry, and an offense to my professionalism. You need to worry about whether you can pay enough commission, not focus on whose son I am."
His final words carried a trace of cold teasing, frankly admitting the complexity of his identity while forcefully drawing a line—here, he followed only the rcenary's rules.
"Then, for the journey ahead, I will rely on the Commander to take good care of us!"
Since he was here, he would make the best of it. Euron was not afraid, just didn't want this "Red Viper" to discover his secrets across the Narrow Sea. With him around, future actions would need to be much more careful.
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