Chapter 203 — Return!
Who exactly was Balon Greyjoy?
A true ironborn, born and raised on the Iron Islands.
Though their homeland lay on lonely islands off the western coast of the continent, their reputation stank all the way from the Wall to the Summer Sea.
When it came to burning, looting, and pillaging—
No one in the Seven Kingdoms was more professional than the ironborn.
Even when facing the nominal rulers of the Seven Kingdoms, they had never truly bowed their heads.
Old Tobho had spent his whole life hammering iron and was fairly sturdy for a man his age.
But in front of Balon, he was as weak as a chicken.
A few punches later, blood and broken teeth sprayed from his mouth. He barely managed half a scream before another punch cut him off. Stars exploded in his vision.
"Stop! Stop hitting him!"
Seeing Balon getting more and more carried away, Urrigon quickly rushed forward and grabbed him.
This trip to King's Landing had opened their eyes.
No matter who it was, anyone who dared cause trouble in the city would be arrested or punished.
Even nobles were no exception.
The prisons of the City Watch were already overflowing. Rumor had it that even the dungeons of the Red Keep had been requisitioned to hold prisoners.
If the situation weren't like this, the Greyjoys would never have behaved so… lawfully.
After all—
Wherever Greyjoys went, they normally didn't pay for things.
Well… sometimes they did.
But they paid with "iron coin."
In simple terms—
They stabbed you with a sword and took the item afterward.
"Don't be stupid, Balon! You can't do this in the city!"
Urrigon wrapped his arms around his brother's waist and dragged him away from Tobho.
That brief moment of pulling finally gave the battered blacksmith a chance to breathe.
But even lying on the floor, Tobho couldn't believe that someone would dare attack him openly in King's Landing under such strict law enforcement.
With blood in his mouth, he pointed weakly at Balon.
"You… you pirates…"
"Bastards…"
But he was old.
After cursing twice, his head tilted sideways and his body went limp.
He fainted.
The entire smithy fell silent.
Only the soft wheezing of the bellows and the occasional crackle of the forge fire remained.
The apprentices huddled in the corner, trembling—
Though their eyes also carried a strange spark of excitement.
Moments later, chaotic shouting erupted outside, accompanied by the sound of hurried footsteps.
Someone had clearly gone to report the incident to the Gold Cloaks.
"Let's go!"
Balon, finally calming down enough to realize he had made a huge mistake, immediately tried to drag Urrigon out of the shop.
But it was too late.
The doorway was already packed with people.
The curious and self-righteous citizens of King's Landing stood together in righteous indignation, loudly accusing the two brothers.
"Damn ironborn savages! Think King's Landing is one of their filthy islands?"
"These outsiders have no manners at all!"
"I heard that one is Quellon Greyjoy's son!"
"Hmph! A pirate chief's brat. Someone call the Gold Cloaks and lock them all up!"
"Damn it…"
Balon cursed under his breath.
For the first time in his life, the ironborn heir realized something terrifying—
In King's Landing, brute force didn't always win.
And worse—
Here, the mob had already decided who the villain was.
And it wasn't Tobho Mott.
It was the Greyjoys.
Balon's cheek twitched as the muscles in his face spasmed. He forced down the murderous rage boiling in his chest.
Back on the Iron Islands, if anyone dared point fingers at him like this, he would draw his sword without hesitation and hack every last one of these noisy fools to pieces.
Let fear and blood remind them who truly ruled the sea.
But unfortunately—
This was King's Landing.
He grabbed the still-dazed Urrigon and barked under his breath,
"Stay close!"
Clearly, he intended to force his way out.
But just then, the crowd suddenly parted to either side, opening a narrow passage.
Clop.
Clop.
Clop.
The crisp, heavy rhythm of armored boots striking the cobblestones echoed down the street.
Moments later, two or three ranks of Gold Cloaks, armed with sharp spears, marched in formation and poured into the shop.
In an instant, every escape route was sealed.
"What's going on here?!"
Pushing through the crowd and seeing the chaotic scene, Janos Slynt immediately frowned.
His voice was not loud, yet the authority of a captain of the City Watch was enough to suppress the surrounding noise.
He stepped forward, first checking on old Tobho. Though the blacksmith was half-unconscious, his breathing was steady.
Slynt waved a hand. A young apprentice ran over, barely concealing the glee on his face as he stammered out the story.
"Greyjoy…"
The moment he heard that name, the crease between Slynt's brows deepened.
The Iron Islands might not possess territory as vast as the other kingdoms, but their strength was very real.
The Iron Fleet was a force the entire continent had to respect. Even the wealthy Lannisters were periodically harassed by their raids.
And the one standing here—
Was the heir to Quellon Greyjoy.
Troublesome…
After a brief moment of thought, Slynt strode up to Balon and asked bluntly,
"You're the one who assaulted him?"
"That's right!"
Realizing escape was impossible, the hot-blooded Balon didn't bother denying it.
He pointed angrily at the blacksmith lying on the ground.
"That lying bastard! He sold my brother garbage and passed it off as quality steel!"
"I came here to argue it out, and instead he accused us of stealing his sword!"
"I'm Balon Greyjoy! If I want something, why would I need to steal it?!"
"Whether he slandered you or not, Lord Greyjoy!"
In front of so many witnesses, Slynt's voice rose sharply, cutting through Balon's roar.
"The fact remains—you severely injured a law-abiding craftsman in King's Landing, in full public view. Many people witnessed it!"
He turned toward the crowd and declared loudly,
"By order of the Prince Regent, during the Dragon-Arrival Festival, no one is allowed to cause trouble in King's Landing!"
"No matter their status or rank—no one has special privileges!"
"Now, you will come with us to the headquarters of the Gold Cloaks. Once the blacksmith wakes, the matter will be confronted face to face!"
"I swear by the Seven—if you were truly wronged, I will investigate thoroughly and clear your name!"
"Woooo!"
"Good! Captain Slynt, well done!"
"Doesn't matter if they're innocent or not! You can't trust ironborn—dogs never change their habits!"
"Throw them into the black cells!"
Slynt's righteous and procedural speech instantly ignited the crowd.
Cheers, applause, and curses toward the Greyjoy brothers surged like waves.
The ironborn's reputation was simply too foul. No one believed they were innocent, and no one felt sympathy for them.
Balon swept his gaze across the jubilant crowd.
A cold glint appeared in his eyes again.
Go to the Gold Cloaks' headquarters?
What a joke.
As an ironborn who had committed every kind of crime imaginable, he knew perfectly well how such places worked.
Once you went inside, even if you had done nothing, they would make something out of it.
And with the name Greyjoy…
Balon was absolutely certain they could invent a dozen charges without even trying.
"You can't do this, Gold Cloaks!"
Before Balon could speak, Urrigon suddenly stepped forward.
His face was flushed red, tears of humiliation welling in his still-youthful eyes.
"That man sold me fake goods and accused us of stealing! Why arrest my brother?!"
"If anyone should be arrested, it should be that lying cheat!"
Young and hot-headed, unable to bear the injustice, the boy raised the chipped, ruined sword and pointed it straight at Janos Slynt.
Being threatened by an eleven- or twelve-year-old in front of so many witnesses made Slynt's eyes narrow dangerously.
He had clawed his way up from the bottom. Nothing irritated him more than someone challenging his authority—
Especially a snot-nosed child.
"Take him too!"
With a wave of his hand, several Gold Cloaks leveled their spears at the Greyjoy brothers.
Urrigon stumbled back in fear, crashing into Balon's chest.
In that moment, Balon instinctively reached for his sword.
Shing!
The blade flashed free from its sheath as he faced the guards.
"If this were the Iron Islands," Balon roared, "I'd have already chopped you bastards up and fed you to the sharks!"
The spears of the Gold Cloaks thrust forward first.
Balon yanked his brother behind him and raised his sword across his chest, trying to block the spears coming from both sides.
But against five trained guards—
His proud swordsmanship meant nothing.
Within two exchanges, several spears pinned him in place, leaving him unable to move.
"Take them away!"
Seeing Balon finally subdued, a faint smile tugged at Slynt's lips.
Cause trouble in King's Landing in front of me?
Even if you're a Greyjoy, you'll behave.
Do you know who backs me?
The Prince Regent.
"Wait!"
At that moment, a voice rang out.
A voice Janos Slynt knew very well.
Turning his head, he saw a burly knight in dark yellow armor stepping out of the crowd.
"Commander!"
"Commander Manly!"
The moment they recognized him, Slynt and several Gold Cloaks immediately lowered their heads in salute.
Though Ser Manly Stokeworth had delegated most affairs to Slynt recently, after serving as commander of the City Watch for over a decade, his authority among the Gold Cloaks remained unmatched.
Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, Manly strode forward, the sound of his armored boots echoing across the stone floor.
He first shot an unfriendly glance at the Greyjoy brothers—
Then turned toward Slynt.
Everyone assumed the upright commander would order the arrest of the troublemaking ironborn.
Instead—
SMACK!
A loud slap rang out.
Janos Slynt stood there stunned.
Not just him—
Everyone present, including Balon and Urrigon, was completely shocked.
The commander had just slapped his own subordinate in public.
"Oh, Captain Janos," Manly said mockingly, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Feeling pretty impressive after your promotion?"
"In fact," he continued loudly, clearly favoring the Greyjoy brothers, "you're so impressive you even dare arrest a Greyjoy."
"If we let you become commander one day, would you arrest me too?"
"I wouldn't dare, my lord!"
Janos Slynt immediately panicked and denied it.
His voice trembled with fear.
He had finally climbed upward thanks to the Regent's favor. If he offended his superior and lost his position, the other captains would tear him apart.
The command of the River Gate Watch was a lucrative post—many people were waiting to replace him.
"They… they clearly violated the city's laws and caused trouble in King's Landing. And the Prince Regent ordered that no matter who—"
He swallowed and tried to explain.
But Manly cut him off immediately.
"Hmph!"
Manly snorted loudly and stepped forward, his nose nearly touching Slynt's face.
He looked at his subordinate with open ridicule and raised a sarcastic thumbs-up.
"You're impressive. Truly righteous."
"Now you're even using the Prince Regent's name to pressure me?"
Then he turned abruptly and shouted at the guards still surrounding the Greyjoy brothers.
"I said release them!"
"Are you all deaf?!"
The guards instinctively withdrew their spears.
Balon Greyjoy stood there in confusion, staring at the commander who had suddenly rescued him.
He had never met this man.
He had no idea why the commander appeared at exactly the right moment to save him.
Seeing the guards step back, Slynt's face tightened.
"Lord Manly, these two caused trouble in King's Landing and even threatened officers with weapons. Everyone here saw it."
His voice dropped slightly, carrying a subtle warning.
"When the Prince Regent returns to King's Landing, if he hears about this—"
"Shut up!"
Manly spun around, face taut with anger.
"Don't forget—I'm the commander of the City Watch!"
"I bled on the battlefield to earn my appointment from King Jaehaerys II himself!"
"I didn't crawl up here like you, Janos Slynt, by flapping your lips and handing out gold dragons!"
"Even if the Prince Regent hasn't returned to King's Landing yet—"
"And if he had, I would—"
"What would you do?"
A calm voice suddenly interrupted him.
The words carried no emotion whatsoever.
Instantly—
Manly froze.
His passionate declaration and the anger on his face both stiffened.
Silence fell.
The entire street, moments ago full of noise, became deathly quiet.
Everyone turned toward the source of the voice.
The first thing they saw—
Was a pair of calm, ocean-blue eyes.
Under countless gazes, a white cloak hung from broad pauldrons. Long black hair fell loosely on either side, swaying gently as he walked.
His steps were slow and steady.
Yet every step carried an overwhelming pressure, making people's legs tremble as if they wanted to kneel.
He walked into the center of the crowd.
His gaze settled directly on Ser Manly Stokeworth, whose face was frozen between shock and fear.
The calm question sounded again—cold as winter wind.
"Go on."
"Tell me what you were planning to do."
"Ser Manly Stokeworth."