Chapter 30 Thousand Ships Crossing
On the deck of the Silent Lord.
Obara Dayne and Evans Dayne stared at each other, wide-eyed. Evans's legs were weak, and he could only lean against his grandmaster, Dr. Visari, enduring his grandmaster's look of disdain.
"You say you are this generation's 'Sword of the Morning'?" Dragonzel sized up the young woman before him. In his magical sight, her body was filled with energy like brilliant starlight, and the greatsword on her back was even more so. If Valyrian steel was like solidified, burning ice, then Dawn was like stars gathered together, still fiercely burning. No wonder in the legends of Westeros, this greatsword was no less than a Valyrian steel sword.
"Of course." Obara Dayne was also sizing up Dragonzel. She sniffed and said with some confusion, "Are you a Targaryen from that Iron Throne? No, you don't have the smell of those guys on you."
"Girl, watch your words," Lynn Valtaken said in a deep voice.
Obara didn't stand on ceremony. Just as she was about to draw her sword, she saw Lynn, Hofa, and Ago next to Dragonzel, their hands already on their weapons.
Among them, Ago had even taken off Moon Singer.
Only then did Obara lower her raised hand. "Alright, alright, I apologize."
Dragonzel pointed at Obara Dayne and asked Evans, "Is what she said true?"
Not daring to look at his sister's fierce gaze, Evans dodged and said, "Obara is indeed a top-notch swordsman in the family, but this generation's Sword of the Morning, Ser Oberyn Dayne, is our great-uncle. He hasn't passed away yet, so..."
"Dawn is in my hands now." Obara rolled her eyes at her brother. "Uncle Oberyn is too old. He can no longer bear the heavy responsibility of being accompanied by Dawn."
"Tell me about your sword." Compared to the internal affairs of House Dayne, Dragonzel was clearly more interested in Dawn.
Obara proudly drew Dawn and plunged it into the deck in front of her. Lynn, standing nearby, twitched his face.
This is our ship, hey!
However, seeing that Dragonzel didn't express an opinion, Lynn didn't dwell on it and continued listening to Obara's introduction.
"The ancestors of House Dayne can be traced back to the Dawn Age ten thousand years ago, at least two thousand years older than House Stark of the North. The first Dayne chased a falling star and built a castle. Dawn came from that fallen star. It is said that the ancestor used celestial fire to burn the fallen star, and finally the greatsword Dawn was born from the heart of the star. The ancestor ruled the Torrentine for thousands of years with this greatsword, until Princess Nymeria crossed with her ten thousand ships and sent the last King of the Torrentine to the Wall."
Obara looked at the Silver Blood at Dragonzel's waist. Although she didn't know what this sword was, it was a top-notch sword judging by its shape.
"I wonder if I have the honor to try your sword." Obara looked at Dragonzel with burning eyes.
"Don't go too far!" This time it was Ago who spoke. "Let me be your opponent."
"Ago, I'll do it." Dragonzel pulled Ago behind him. "I can hear Silver Blood cheering, let her have a match with Dawn."
"As you command, my blood of my blood." Ago quickly put away Moon Singer and stood back in his original position.
"Fortunately your ship is big enough." Obara suddenly drew her greatsword and chopped down vertically without warning.
Dragonzel didn't even look. Silver Blood parried, just blocking Dawn's blade as it changed from a vertical chop to a horizontal slash.
With a clang, it was the heavy and powerful Dawn that was knocked flying. Obara quickly used the momentum to turn and was about to slash upwards at Dragonzel, but he preemptively slashed Dawn with his sword, then twisted the hilt and tapped Obara's wrist.
Clang.
Dawn fell to the ground, the outcome decided.
"I lost, excellent swordsmanship." Obara admitted defeat readily. "Thank you for letting Dawn experience the joy of battle."
Dragonzel nodded, motioning for her to pick up her sword. "What do you plan to do next?"
"I originally planned to go to Pentos and become a mercenary."
"I can lend you a ship to take you to Pentos," Dragonzel said.
"However, the treatment here seems better than in Pentos. I wonder if you need this sword of mine."
"That's fine too. Just go register with Lynn." Dragonzel pointed at Lynn, who raised his eyebrows, seemingly saying that although you didn't defeat my Lord, that's normal, and you did well to last this long.
"But in the future, your sword might be chopping at your own countrymen, you know," Valarr squatted beside him and teased.
Obara tossed her long hair without a care. "Who cares? Dornish kill each other no less than they do the Riverlanders and Stormlands cowards."
Watching Obara leave, Diana Tarly came out of the ship's cabin. Her younger brother Alan Tarly was settled on another ship. Zesar Weaver was treating the young man. Yes, this poisoner who lost a leg was not only skilled in poisons but also in Eastern medicine.
"Miss Diana, tell me your thoughts on Miss Obara just now and on Dorne." Dragonzel handed the young woman, who had changed into a clean silver dress, a glass of light wine and said with a smile.
"Obara is different from typical Dornish," Diana said. "She doesn't care about many things that Dornish people care about. To her, knight novels are more attractive than the literature of desire circulating in the Dornish desert. The greatsword Dawn and combat are more favored by her than men and women. She loves warhorses and armor more than silk dresses, and loves fighting more than girls' embroidery and weaving."
Dragonzel nodded, motioning for her to continue.
Diana looked at the young man before her with some awe. Two Dragons were circling leisurely overhead, completely unconcerned about what was happening below.
"I can't tell that she is lying." Diana continued to introduce the knowledge she had about Dorne. "Dorne is not a monolith. The Salt Dornish along the eastern coast have more Rhoynar characteristics. The Stone Dornish in the western mountains are closer to the descendants of Andals and First Men mixed, tall and fair-skinned. The Sand Dornish in the central desert have characteristics of both, and their skin is darker due to the desert climate. In ancient times, there were kingdoms of various sizes here, until Princess Nymeria crossed with her ten thousand ships, and the rising House Martell gradually integrated the entire Dorne, eliminating the Dornish kings."
"Tell me in detail."
"Dorne has several powerful families. House Martell goes without saying; they call themselves the Princes of Dorne and rule the entire Dorne. House Yronwood of Yronwood was once the most powerful force in Dorne. Although defeated by the Martells, they are still powerful and have a deep-seated feud with House Fowler due to betrayal. House Dayne and House Blackmont in the west do not fully obey the leadership of House Martell. House Uller in the center is famous throughout the Seven Kingdoms for no one being able to guess what they will do next. House Wyl in the northeast is cruel and cunning, constantly at odds with the lords of the eastern Borderlands, and has a very poor relationship with House Yronwood because they once poisoned the Yronwood lord who attended a feast."
"But during Aegon the Conqueror's conquest of Dorne, they still united," Dragonzel pointed this out. But he did not continue speaking. Instead, he nodded at Diana, seemingly appreciating her extensive knowledge.
"Thank you for your praise." Diana curtsied, lifting her skirt.
"Do you have any plans next?"
"We want to request your protection until my hot-tempered father calms down." Diana lowered her head helplessly. "He is simply too overbearing. Perhaps time will help him calm down."
"Cabins have been prepared for you and Alan on my ship." Dragonzel nodded. "I hope you enjoy your stay."
The wind blew through the massive fleet.
On the Narrow Sea, thousands of ships sailed majestically westward, countless sails billowing. It seemed to be sending that signal to the opposite shore.
Westeros.
We are coming!
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