When Karl mentioned the dragon, Robert's massive head shifted slightly, and a strange glint flashed in his eyes.
Noticing the subtle reaction, Karl's gaze flickered before he turned toward Archmaester Norren.
"This is Maester Marwyn," Norren introduced. "He is highly knowledgeable in medicine and the occult, and he is the author of The Book of Lost Books."
The old Archmaester rubbed his temples as he spoke. Clearly, the current situation gave him a headache.
He deliberately avoided mentioning the long-standing disagreements between Marwyn and the Citadel.
Karl simply nodded.
Although he couldn't quite remember who Marwyn was, he showed no sign of it.
Instead, he smiled and said openly,
"I welcome every maester who is willing to exchange knowledge with me."
"Because I want to understand the Citadel better."
"In my opinion..."
"Knowledge is power."
The moment those words left his mouth, every Archmaester present froze.
They exchanged surprised glances.
No one had expected such a statement to come from Karl Baratheon.
Throughout the Seven Kingdoms, Karl was famous as an unstoppable warrior.
Everyone already acknowledged him as perhaps the greatest martial force in Westeros.
Because of that reputation, people naturally assumed he valued only strength.
No one expected him to speak so highly of knowledge.
Archmaester Norren quickly recovered and stepped forward with a respectful smile.
"What a profound saying."
"It could even become the motto of the Citadel."
"Your Majesty, your respect for knowledge may surpass even our own."
Marwyn's face lit up with unconcealed excitement.
Unlike the others, Karl had neither judged his appearance nor dismissed him because of his controversial reputation.
Instead, he had welcomed him.
"It is my greatest honor to receive Your Majesty's approval."
"You have brought both truth and miracles into this world."
Karl merely smiled and waved his hand.
"You flatter me."
Then his expression became serious.
"If the Citadel is willing..."
"I am prepared to fund and support any research projects conducted by the Citadel."
"I will do so in the name of the Crown and the Seven Kingdoms."
Silence.
Every Archmaester stood speechless.
It felt as though unimaginable wealth had suddenly fallen from the heavens.
Even Marwyn was stunned.
No one dared answer immediately.
This was no small proposal.
If Karl truly fulfilled that promise, the Citadel's future would change forever.
State-sponsored research...
Unlimited royal funding...
Every scholar present immediately understood the significance.
The implications were enormous.
Excitement gradually spread through the crowd.
Finally, Archmaester Norren stepped forward.
"Your Majesty..."
"This matter is too important for us to decide immediately."
"We must discuss it among ourselves before reaching a formal conclusion."
"Please don't misunderstand."
"We are not rejecting your proposal."
"It simply deserves careful consideration."
Karl smiled warmly.
"I understand."
"And I promise you this."
"My offer will remain open."
"Just as King Baelor the Blessed once devoted himself wholeheartedly to the Faith..."
"I sincerely hope to devote myself to advancing knowledge."
The atmosphere immediately softened.
The Archmaesters' smiles became noticeably more genuine.
Even the wary looks occasionally directed toward Robert were no longer as tense.
Norren bowed deeply.
"I swear upon my honor that I will do everything in my power to make this happen."
"Excellent."
Karl nodded.
"Until then..."
"I hope we can continue our discussions."
"With pleasure."
Without ever directly mentioning their true intentions, Karl and the Archmaesters quietly reached a mutually beneficial understanding.
Neither side openly negotiated.
Yet everyone left satisfied.
---
While Karl was still speaking with the Archmaesters...
The rulers of Oldtown finally arrived.
Lord Leyton Hightower, known throughout the realm as the Old Man of Oldtown, hurried toward the Citadel with several members of House Hightower and a sizeable escort.
The guards instinctively formed a protective line.
Leyton Hightower, accompanied by his eldest son and heir, Baelor Hightower, slowly approached.
Karl and the Archmaesters naturally ended their conversation.
Every eye turned toward the newcomers.
Even Robert lifted his enormous head and stared directly at them.
The pressure became almost tangible.
Both Leyton and Baelor instinctively stiffened.
Before either of them could speak...
Karl spoke first.
"So..."
"Is this how you welcome me?"
"Or is this how you welcome the Iron Throne?"
The words were calm.
But they carried unmistakable authority.
As Karl finished speaking, Robert stretched his neck.
A deep rumble echoed from the dragon's throat.
The sound resembled distant thunder.
His jaws slowly parted.
Faint golden flames flickered between his teeth.
Sparks escaped from his nostrils.
No one doubted that the dragon could reduce them all to ashes in an instant.
The entire square fell silent.
An overwhelming shadow of death settled over everyone's hearts.
No one had expected Karl to dominate the meeting from the very first moment.
The Archmaesters quietly chose to remain silent.
Maesters do not involve themselves in politics.
That ancient principle echoed in every mind.
They simply watched.
Faced with Karl's open display of power—and Robert's silent threat—Lord Leyton Hightower found himself unable to take another step.
Cold sweat formed across his forehead.
Few families understood dragons better than House Hightower.
Their records stretched back hundreds of years.
They knew exactly how terrifying dragons truly were.
Even more frightening...
Only a week earlier, the Dragon's Fury along the Mander had already become legendary.
The Citadel possessed detailed reports of the entire battle.
Looking at Karl...
Thinking of the dragon circling Oldtown before descending directly upon the Citadel instead of Hightower itself...
Leyton felt unprecedented pressure.
"No..."
"Your Majesty, King Karl Baratheon..."
"I believe there has been a misunderstanding."
He hurriedly wiped away the sweat on his forehead.
"House Hightower has always acknowledged King Robert's will."
"And therefore..."
"Your rightful claim to the Iron Throne."
"From the very beginning, our house has supported Your Majesty."
"I believe our sincerity has already been demonstrated."
"As for our liege lords, House Tyrell..."
"When they answered Renly Baratheon's rebellion..."
"We refused to follow them."
Karl remained completely silent.
His expression did not change.
No one could read his thoughts.
The silence stretched on.
One minute...
Then another.
Robert slowly opened his mouth wider.
Thin streams of smoke drifted from between his teeth.
The temperature around them noticeably increased.
Unable to bear the pressure any longer, Archmaester Norren stepped forward.
"Your Majesty..."
"Please believe in House Hightower's loyalty."
"They have always been loyal to House Baratheon..."
"And to the Iron Throne."
The old scholar forced himself to mediate.
Instantly...
Karl's icy expression softened.
He smiled.
"Since Archmaester Norren has spoken..."
"I am willing to trust the honor of the Citadel."
He turned back toward Lord Leyton.
"But according to your words..."
"You have already chosen me."
"If that's true..."
"Why have I yet to see any proof of your sincerity?"
Karl treated the Citadel with courtesy.
House Hightower, however...
Received none.
Norren wisely fell silent.
Political matters could only be resolved through politics.
Leyton and Baelor immediately understood Karl's meaning.
Words alone were worthless.
He wanted action.
Robert's deep growls became louder.
The heat surrounding them continued to rise.
Finally...
Leyton Hightower sighed.
Without another word, he slowly drew his sword.
Holding it horizontally with both hands, he knelt upon one knee.
The rest of House Hightower followed immediately.
"I, Leyton of House Hightower..."
"As Lord of House Hightower..."
"Swear eternal loyalty..."
"To King Karl Baratheon the First..."
"King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men..."
"Lord of the Seven Kingdoms..."
"And Protector of the Realm."
Even an oath sounded elegant when spoken by an educated noble.
As soon as the words ended...
Robert slowly closed his jaws.
Only an occasional spark escaping from his nostrils reminded everyone of his terrifying presence.
At last...
Karl smiled.
"I, Karl Baratheon the First..."
"Accept the fealty of House Hightower."
He stepped forward.
Taking Leyton's sword, he lightly touched each shoulder with its flat.
The ceremony was complete.
Karl then reached down and helped Lord Leyton back to his feet.
"My apologies, Lord Leyton."
"I hope you'll forgive my caution."
The apology sounded polite.
Neither man believed a word of it.
Leyton simply smiled in return.
There was little else he could do.
He bowed respectfully.
"Your Majesty."
"You must be weary after your long journey."
"House Hightower has prepared a feast."
"We would be honored if you would dine with us."
Karl smiled.
"It would be my pleasure."
Then he turned toward the Archmaesters.
"However..."
"I've already promised to continue my discussions with the Citadel."
"If possible..."
"I'd like to invite all of you as well."
"Of course."
Everyone readily agreed.
What had begun as a tense military confrontation quietly transformed into a grand welcoming procession.
Escorted by Hightower knights, Karl and his entourage departed from the Citadel and made their way through Oldtown toward the towering Hightower beside the Honeywine River.
High above them...
Robert circled gracefully through the evening sky.
Bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, the dragon looked majestic and almost divine.
As they walked, Lord Leyton introduced the history and landmarks of Oldtown.
After a while, Baelor Hightower approached Karl.
Looking up at Robert with unconcealed admiration, he asked,
"Your Majesty..."
"Should we prepare food for Robert?"
"House Hightower possesses many ancient records concerning dragons."
"I've heard they especially enjoy goats."
Karl glanced upward before casually shaking his head.
"There's no need."
"Robert prefers hunting for himself rather than being fed."
He offered no further explanation.
The conversation naturally shifted back to the Citadel, Oldtown, and the future of the realm.
By the time the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, the procession reached Battle Isle, where the Honeywine emptied into Whispering Sound.
There stood the Hightower.
The colossal lighthouse fortress rose high above the sea, built upon the entire island itself.
At its summit...
The great beacon blazed endlessly.
Day and night...
Its sacred flame had never gone out.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)