The Northern Tyrant [Game of Thrones] Chapter 32 - Tyrant In The Sea & Treating Her Right

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"Chett, hold the men back from the town. You would not last a moment in there." Wylis ordered, raising a hand to halt the fifty men behind him as Maidenpool’s gates loomed ahead. Smoke curled into the sky. "I’ll face the pirates who come ashore. When they’re dealt with, you’ll take the men inside and restore order."

"And you, my lord? Chett asked. 

"Oh, I can’t let our friends walk off without leaving me a few parting gifts," Wylis said with a grin as he pulled his visor down and slid his great sword free. "Battles are where I shine best, Chett. And this isn’t even an army, only a handful of sea-roving ruffians."

Wylis gave a nod to his understanding page and patted Caliburn's neck. He soon zoomed across the last stretch of the road to join Lord Hoster's men, who had already entered the town. The first thing he noticed after entering was smoke. It appeared the pirates intended to burn the entire town to the ground. 

Further, as he galloped through the main road of the town, he noticed some dead bodies belonging to all genders. The only difference was that women were bare. 

"Help! No!"

Wylis pulled on the reins and drifted Calliburn to a halt. A woman's scream was continuously echoing from a nearby alley. "Cali, your work's done. Run back to Chett."

Hm?

Somehow, he noticed concern in his big horse's eyes, as if the creature could fully understand him. Sure, he knew Caliburn was much smarter than normal horses, but such emotions? 

"This ain't my first battle, boy." He smacked Caliburn's ass. "Now go!"

With a big, cheering neigh, the massive beast galloped back the same way they had entered. That left Wylis standing alone in the middle of the street, with smoke from the fire around him. He raised his sword high with both hands and looked around through his visor. 

But he had something better than just eyes. With his boots on the ground, he tried to sense vibrations using Earthbending. He tried to feel the movements, the thumps, even from insects. And before long, he heard the same woman's muffled voice, as if someone had stuffed something in her mouth. 

Two? No, three men.

He treated the battle like Earthbending training and used it to the fullest, to sense everything around him. At the moment, he couldn't sense movement beyond fifty meters from him. But he knew it was getting better. 

What am I supposed to destroy now? Maidenpool's already ruined. 

He rushed towards the location where the woman was likely held hostage. Between a few buildings, he entered a narrow alley where the smoke was less, and sure enough, he noticed two men standing guard in front of a door in the back alley. 

"What the fuck is that?" 

"Damn beast!" 

Wylis heard the men notice him and cower or grumble about his size. But Wylis was focused on the woman's cries coming from inside that door. He walked towards the two men with no care, aware that his massive great sword was useless in that narrow alley. 

"Haaaaa!"

One of the pirates charged towards him. 

Bam!

Wylis freed one hand and made a slapping gesture. Responding to his will, nearby stones from a wall ripped out and smashed into the charging pirate, crushing the man into a broken, groaning mess. 

"W-What… What was that?!" 

By the time the second pirate could digest the magic, Wylis had leaped forward, high, holding his greatsword in the only way usable in that alley, a straight-down strike. 

Splash!

Bloody, powerful, and tyrannical, Wylis' great blade sliced from the middle of the pirate's head and all the way down, cutting him in two equal halves. Guts, organs, and blood spilled all over. 

But he wasted no time and kicked the wooden door, knocking it open with ease. And right there inside, he saw another pirate, slightly larger than those outside, trying to mount a woman. She was screaming, slapping the man, kicking him as the pirate tore her clothes. 

What a mess. 

Wylis noticed two kids cowering in a corner as well, hugging each other, no older than five or six. 

"That's enough!" Wylis boomed. He grabbed the pirate by the hair and pulled him up. He let his greatsword fall and took out a dagger, and stabbed it straight through the pirate's throat, killing him faster than he could scream. 

"No! No!"

"Calm yourself," he said, tossing the dead pirate aside. "I’m Lord Wylis Kaiser of Ramsgate. You are safe now. Go, fetch your children, and hide upstairs if you can. Stay hidden until you hear the Sept bells."

"Y-Yes… Thank you, my lord!"

Wylis turned around and left the building, reaching the main street again. He walked while sensing movements around him, seeking to help any more distressed people. He did hear some swords clanking and let them be, likely Hoster's men fighting. 

He made his way towards the port instead, as the Quest was to capture ships. He honestly didn't know how he was going to do it. 

"Lord Wylis!" 

Just as he neared the port, he saw Lord Hoster ride towards him with a few soldiers behind him. 

"We make for the castle. The pirates have forced a way past its defenses. Lord Mooton and his boy are already there, standing their ground."

Can't do that. 

"I’ll cut down the ones by the port. They’re stuffing their ships with the plunder, and I won’t stand by while they steal what’s mine."

"..."

"Hah!" Lord Hoster laughed after a pause and waved. "Some of my men are already there. Give them hell."

Wylis nodded and jogged alone towards the port, lured by the sound of clashing swords. He could already see the pirate ships docked, ready to gather whatever they could. The ships varied in size and build, ranging from large cogs to a few carracks. But they were just eight, and the Quest said there were seventeen. That meant he'd have to sail the waters. 

Ugh… I hate swimming. 

"Haaa!" With a roar, he rushed straight into the nearest skirmish. The port was mostly empty anyway, as most pirates were at the castle, plundering it, and now fighting. The men at the port were mostly manual labourers, loading the ships. 

"No—"

"Ru—"

Whenever Wylis struck, the men froze and tried to scream, only for their screams to cut off as soon as his giant blade landed. He killed them with ease as they barely wore any armor. They were just pirate grunts. 

It was a confusing mess. Wylis had no idea who to kill and who to spare. He didn't know who their captain was or who their commander was. There were no knights in armor, no men with crowns. 

"Take the ships!" Wylis roared at the Tully men. "Board the damn ships!" 

He helped the Tully men wipe out the pirates at the port and then led them to board the ships and kill whatever sailors they could find. Wylis almost decided to slice the sails so the ships wouldn't move, but knowing how costly those sails were, he chose to kill the men instead. 

"The other one!" 

There weren't that many sailors in the first place. And that begged the question, how did the pirates so easily take the town? Maidenpool didn't have a big naval fleet, but they did have some ships patrolling the waters. They also had guards and men-at-arms. 

One by one, he boarded every pirate ship at the port and killed everyone on board. After finishing the last one, he took a glance at the Quest screen. 

[Goal - Capture Pirate Ships (8/17)]

How do I get the others now? 

From the last ship, he looked towards the Bay of Crabs. Maidenpool didn't sit on the edge of open seas, but rather between two large arms of landmasses. If one wanted to reach open seas, they'd have to pass by Wickenden, Dyre Den, and Gulltown.  

They're not even close to one another. 

He could see nine more pirate ships. They were floating not far away; some were busy boarding ships of Maidenpool. Swimming to each one of them was possible since the water was gentle, but it'd tire him out fast. 

But another thing stood out. All of the nine ships except for one were galleys; they had sails and oars both. That meant they were also highly maneuverable. So, swimming or even rowing to each ship was out of the question. They'd start leaving as soon as they smell a threat. 

That meant he had to go for the head, a large galleass warship. He reckoned the pirate group's commander would be there, if not already captured inside the castle. But he had a feeling that the commander wouldn't be so dumb as to leave his flagship. 

Fuck this! Let's do it!

Standing on the ship's deck, he started removing his armor one piece at a time. He was gentle with it as he really liked what Tobho Mott had made.

"My lord?"

"I'll swim to that great galleass," Wylis told the Tully knight at his side. "But in daylight, they'll spot me before I’m halfway there. Send a few men to set one of Maidenpool’s cogs aflame. Give them something else to look at."

"..."

"My lord… that ship is a mile away… at least."

"I know." Wylis stripped off his armor piece by piece until he stood in nothing but his tunic, trousers, and boots. He slung his greatsword across his back and gave a quick grin. "I swim well enough."

"But…"

Wylis didn't jump as he didn't want to make a splash just in case someone was using a far eye to see him. He instead returned to the docks and, from there, lowered himself into the waters. 

"Go set the Maidenpool's cog of fire." He ordered the man before swimming away into open waters. 

He swam on his back most of the way, conserving his energy. That also gave him a grand view of the ship burning at the port. 

####

Salladhor Saan liked to call himself the Prince of the Narrow Sea. 

Why not? After all, he had the name and the fame, all of it. Even his lineage was something of a legend, as his ancestors had been pirate lords for centuries, even one of the Ninepenny Kings. 

Now, he too was carving a name for himself. He was a smuggler, trader, banker, sellsail, and a pirate most of all. In his trade, the more notoriety you have, the better. Even now, when he received the offer to raid Maidenpool, it was too good to refuse, albeit risky. 

After this raid, he knew his name would reach every noble house of Westeros and beyond, raising his status higher amongst those of his own trade. Truth be told, he was getting old, and he wanted to carve a name for himself as soon as possible. 

"Why are they burning the ships?" Salladhor frowned; his commonly friendly, black-humor-streaked personality vanished. "I ordered the boys to take every last one for me."

Salladhor stood by the edge of his ship's deck, watching the great fire in the distance. 

"Get me the far eye!" He eyed the port. "It is not our brave lads setting those ships alight."

"Burning them so we can't have them?" pondered one of Salladhor's captains. 

"Wrong!"

Thud!

All of a sudden, a loud creak of wood and a wet splash resonated from nearby. Salladhor turned around quickly to look and… frowned. The men around him, his two mighty captains, his closest aids, promptly unsheathed their curved blades. 

"Oh, my radiant goddess! Look what treasure we bring aboard, eh? A monster, I say, a monster!" Salladhor laughed. "And who might you be, my friend? So tall, so mighty, clearly the gods kissed you twice."

Scrrrrr!

As joking and calm as Salladhor was, he wasn't blind to danger. He saw and heard the mighty man bare his massive sword. It was hard to see his face as the man was drenched in water, and his damp hair covered half of his face. But he noticed the beauty; the man was kissed by every god out there, and that was a major hint. 

"Now, now, my friend, why spill blood when a few clever words fill our purses better, eh? It’s already a fine day for me, and I can make it a fine one for you as wel—"

Woosh!

Clank!

Salladhor jumped back and let his two mighty captains take the lead with their blades and protect him. His two captains were no simple men; they were both nearing seven feet in height. He'd raised them from the fighting pits of Slaver's Bay since they were young boys. Now they were mighty, and his shields. 

Clash!

Good gods! 

Salladhor watched in absolute horror. What was this man? How was he so bloody fast and agile? The sword was longer than his height, and yet the man moved it around like it was a little twig. 

Rys and Kys, he watched two of his strongest swords reduced to mere children waving blades. The two men had absolutely perfect coordination. When one swung at the attacker's head, the other aimed for the legs, leaving no space for a counter.

Clank!

Yet, the tall Westerosi beast used his single sword to plant it straight on the deck, blocking the trajectory of both incoming slashes. He jumped, he ducked, he rolled around, used kicks, punches, headbutts, and dominated the entire battle. 

"Go! Help them!" 

Salladhor ordered the other sailors. However, right before his eyes, he watched those sailors get sliced into bits. Some were cleaved entirely from their waists, some beheaded, some lost legs, and they were lucky. That made it clear, the man was showing mercy to Rys and Kys by not killing them. 

"You’re Lord Wylis Kaiser, aren't you?"

Oh! That smile… I've seen that before. 

"Aye, I am. What of it?" 

Salladhor already knew that this Westerosi warrior wanted something from him. That smile, that confidence, that smugness, it suited the famed greatest warrior in Westeros. He'd heard plenty of tales about the man, and face to face, he saw the truth of them. 

"Lord Wylis, why spill a drop more blood? I’m a reasonable man, you know. Maidenpool is already taken, and I have gathered most of the treasures worth the trouble. You came on the Crown’s errand, yes? To bring House Mooton to heel? I was hired for the very same task by the steward of Maidenpool. So take your share, my lord, and let us both leave richer than we came."

"Haaaa!"

Thud!

Salladhor watched his two warriors get thrown on their asses. The northern lord then stood straight and swung his blade, splattering the blood everywhere. 

"Treasure? Hah. The treasure I seek sits in your hands, pirate."

Something told Salladhor that he'd hate asking his question. 

"Which is?"

"This! All of this!"

The northern warrior raised his arms wide in both directions. 

"I want every bloody ship you command. Yours and Maidenpool’s. All of them. Hand them over."

"..."

Salladhor was speechless. He'd seen confident, overconfident, and audacious men in his life, too many to count. It was rare to see a madman like this one. 

"You? All by yourself?" Salladhor glanced aside, catching something in the corner of his eye as he tried to stall. "You truly think my brave sailors will lay down their swords just because you happen to catch me?"

"Capture? I'm here to kill you, pirate scum."

"My sweet Westerosi friends, always so full of noble pride and duty and all that glittering nonsense. Tell me, have you ever wondered why, after thousands of years here, not a single one of your great houses has claimed anything across the sea? Pride, my friend. It chains you tighter than any anchor. And today, you too will learn that lesson… do it!"

Scrrrrrrr!

A metallic scrape echoed.

"Fuck!"

That was the last word Salladhor heard from the Westerosi lord before he vanished down into the sea with a loud splash, sinking instantly. 

"Hah! I didn't get here playing your honor games. I'm done with this raid, signal the men to return."

As soon as Salladhor commanded, his men used colorful smoke to signal. In mere moments, countless more fires erupted all across Maidenpool, enough that even during daylight, they could see the flames. 

####

Splash!

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Wylis was cursing nonstop. 

He'd been too overconfident and now paid for it as he found himself drowning further and further down into the sea, pulled by the heavy weight of the iron anchor tied around his ankle by a metal chain. 

The water had already turned darker around him, and he could feel the pressure building around. He yanked his legs, reached down to free his leg, but as soon as he felt the metal chain, he cursed. 

My greedy fucking ass!

He had played it safe and didn't kill those almost seven-foot-tall men. He wanted to disarm them and capture them, and hopefully turn them to serve him with some brainwashing skill he'd buy. It was hard to find big, tall men like them, and ones who knew how to swing a blade were even more rare. 

But in all that, he had failed to notice a midget sneak behind him and lock his ankle with a metal shackle. He didn't know if there was a lock or not; he reckoned there wasn't. But he couldn't see anything, and the damn thing was pulling him down. 

Thankfully, he'd already purchased diving mastery for treasure hunting. He didn't panic and saved his breath. Moreover, his body was built differently thanks to all the strength boosts he received from bedding the gorgeous women who chose to live with him. 

I hate water! 

He cursed, still, wanting to reach the seabed quickly so he could free himself and swim up again. This time, however, he wanted to kill the fucking pirate. No more mercy. He'd kill them all on sight. 

Kill on sight, that's what a Tyrant would've done. Ugh… I should stop overthinking things. 

It was pitch black darkness around him. Holding in the air got harder for him as the pressure around him tried to squeeze him. But he held on. That part of the sea wasn't that deep since it was still in coastal waters. 

Finally!

Eventually, he felt his boots land on the soft sandy seabed. Using Earthbending, he felt everything and noticed what had happened. The shackle around his ankle was connected with a small metal chain, which was then connected to a heavy metal anchor. 

The men on the ship had just cut the rope and let the anchor fall, and the extra chain pulled him down. It was quite an ingenious plan to deal with someone like him. 

And he would have died if not for Earthbending. In fact, Waterbending, Metalbending, or any of those would have saved him. 

He didn't even need to break the shackle, as the chain would tighten as long as there was weight pulling it down. Now, without any pull, he easily loosened it and released his foot. 

The next thing he knew, he was making quick strokes towards the surface.

Ugh… Need air. 

On the edge, he rushed as fast as he could. He could feel his vision darkening, his lungs screaming at him. He felt his throat burn. He saw the sunlight at last, but that short distance felt endless. 

But his arms and legs moved nonstop. 

Splash!

"Haaaaa! Fuck!" 

At last, his head came out of the water. He inhaled a deep, hasty breath and floated on his back. His chest heaved, his head throbbed with pain. He turned his head to look around and saw the great galleas, now some distance away, and getting farther each moment. 

He had a choice to make. To swim after it and get his revenge or conserve energy and return? From the looks of it, the pirates were leaving and… the entire city of Maidenpool was burning. How? He wondered. He'd killed most of the pirates at the port, and the city was empty. 

Did Hoster fall? To pirates? 

However, what stung him worse was the fact that the pirate commander got away. His greed bit him in the backside. The Quest was to only take the ships, and he got even greedier.   

The Quest! What happens now?

Grabbing all seventeen ships was now clearly impossible. The Quest was most certainly a failure. It was something that had never happened before, and truly, he didn't know what penalties Tyrant's Squire might impose on him.

"I can't do all this alone." He sighed to himself, floating in the waters. He reckoned if he had someone like Brandon on that ship, this wouldn't have happened. His mistake was trying to do all of it on his own. 

"And I don't even know the pirate's name… Wait, Maidenpool's steward, he must know."

Although he knew much about the world of Ice and Fire and also many pirates, just their faces weren’t enough to help him. He’d clearly not seen this one before in any media. And there could be countless pirates out there.. 

He made the most logical choice and started swimming back towards the port. He hoped to at least know the pirate's name so he could hunt him down later. 

This defeat was a blight on his name and the future Tyrant. 

####

Maidenpool Castle, dungeons,

Slap!

"Gaaaah! I… That's all… I know!"

"Seven hells, man, even greed has a limit," Hoster roared as he struck the former steward, each slap rattling teeth. "What you did was madness. Scheme after scheme, all of it foolish!"

"I swear, that's all I know, my lord!" 

"He's lying." 

Hoster glanced at Lord Wylis, the large man was seated on a chair, resting, face stern and furious. It had just been an hour since the end of the pirate raid. Hoster had learned what had transpired, how Lord Wylis had almost died attacking the pirate commander. 

"I can see that," Hoster said, his voice tight with anger. He turned to the steward, the older man with greying hair shrinking under his stare. "Tell me, do you understand what King Robert would have done to you if Lord Wylis had perished in this mad scheme of yours?"

"I... I never knew he would come, nor you, my lord. By the gods, I swear I didn’t know they meant to burn the town. I only asked Salladhor Saan to raid the castle and carry off the valuables. My part was only to help them pretend to be traders and make port, but he turned on me. He left me behind and shut me away."

"Who else?" Lord Wylis' voice rang again, thick and heavy. "You’re no wise man, not wise enough to shape any of this."

Hoster turned back towards the steward again, raising his hand to hit again. "Speak before it's Lord Wylis' hand hitting."

Pa!

One more slap struck, and another tooth fell. 

"I… It was just…" the steward murmured with a swollen face. "Just me—"

Creak!

Hoster shifted away on his own as he saw Lord Wylis get up with his massive arm raised, his otherwise handsome face marred with anger. 

"Frey! The Freys were behind it! I... I took advice from Lord Frey’s people. Not the lord himself, but one of his men came to me. He set it all in motion, every bit of it. I... during the rebellion, I told the Freys when Lord Mooton was sending the taxes to King’s Landing. I helped them take it. The court was too caught up in the war to notice the taxes gone. Lord Mooton believed they had reached King’s Landing."

Silence fell in the dungeon chamber. 

Lord Hoster’s voice shook with anger as he pressed a hand to his brow. “I knew Frey had patience, but to weave a plot this deep? Seven save us; we were all blind to it, even the Crown. And still we have nothing that links this to his house?”

The steward looked down, broken and defeated. 

Hoster turned to look at Lord Wylis and noticed a frown so deep it had to leave behind a scar. He'd never seen the young lord so angry before. "Lord Wylis?"

"Lord Mooton gave his life to shield his wife and child from the pirates. His son had his arm hacked off. The man was clean of all guilt, and my blade was used to bring this sin." 

Hoster frowned and quickly patted Lord Wylis's shoulder. He always knew that Wylis was a man of honor and integrity, while not as rigid as Ned, he knew the young lord was a good man at heart. And to be thrust into that vile scheme, he knew what it felt like. They were used.

"It was never your fault, Wylis. None of us saw the trick for what it was. We judged Lord Mooton without proper cause only because he stood with the Targaryens. I can see now that this is exactly what Lord Frey wanted."

"Hundreds died today, women raped, children orphaned, homes plundered, a town burned. Aye, it's not our fault, but we became an instrument of that fault. L… My wife says it's true, the South is no place for a northern man. Best never forget this, Lord Hoster. Never forget House Frey's treachery, for I won't."

Thud!

"Aaaarghk!

Hoster didn't try to stop the tall lord from grabbing the steward by the throat and lifting him high in the air. Truth be told, he wouldn't mind if he were killed. The whole chain of events had enraged him as well. While he doubted he'd be able to do anything to House Frey, he planned to write to Jon Arryn and explain everything. The old man understood the Freys enough. 

But Lord Wylis didn't kill the steward. 

"I won't kill you. You'll be paraded through King's Landing and beheaded there. No Black for you."

"That is enough, Wylis," Hoster said gently as he laid a hand on Lord Wylis' arm, still tight on the steward. "You look weary. Go take your ease. Jonquil's Pool remains untouched and may soothe you."

Thud!

At last, Lord Wylis let go of the steward and left the dungeons. 

Hoster sighed, shaking his head. He felt guilty for dragging Lord Wylis through this as well. 

"Seven hells, it must gnaw at him, coming so close to death in service of another's plotting," he muttered through clenched teeth. "The Crown must be made aware."

####

Jonquil's Pool,

The sun was setting, and Wylis found himself seated in the famed sweetwater pool of the town. The pool had quite a history attached to it. But he couldn't care less about that, his mind was busy thinking of something else. 

The failure he'd faced that day. It could have been avoided, yet there he was. He thought of what he could have done differently while relaxing in the chest-deep water, his back reclined against the pool's edge, arms spread on the ledge.

What now? Did I fail the entire Main Quest? But the town is ruined. 

He wondered what penalties he'd receive. Moreover, he didn't know if he would be able to take Maidenpool's ships anymore. He still had the eight pirate ships, however. 

Maidenpool's not gonna survive. That boy's timid. He thought of Lord Mooton's son, who was now the lord. 

To a degree, he regretted even coming down south. Ramsgate was changing, improving, and he should have been there to oversee everything. But the damn Quest forced him to do it. And the Crown's raven added pressure. 

God… Used by everyone at this point. The Crown, Tully, Frey, even the damn pirates. Tyrant my ass. 

Splash!

"Ummmmh… Wylis?"

Wylis shook his head and woke up from that stupor, and looked at Ros’s gorgeous face coming out of the water. Her soaked red hair was stuck to her head and face, her smile so sinful, so sweet, and honest. 

"Ros, let's head home as soon as possible." He caressed her face, soft and mischievous. She'd been holding her breath and sucking his hardened shaft under the water. 

"I'll go wherever you tell me to, whenever you tell me to… with pleasure," she proclaimed and dipped her head back under the water. 

With a splash, Wylis felt it all rush onto him. 

Under the water, everything felt more sensitive for some reason. The cool embrace of the pool swirling around his skin, the insistent heat of her mouth, making every nerve ending on his cock scream with pleasure. He loved the way his shaft throbbed, the water adding a silky, teasing drag that heightened friction, turning each subtle movement into an electric jolt that shot straight to his balls.

Ros didn't try to take all of him; she was smarter than that, more devoted in her own wicked way. She pleased him with deliberate care, her head bobbing with a lustful rhythm. Her tongue toyed with his crown, swirling lazy circles around the sensitive ridge, flicking at the slit where pre-cum leaked into the water, the taste of him mingling with the sweet pool in her eager suckling.

He felt her mouth suck away all the pent-up tension, fatigue, and anger, like she was drawing the poison from his soul. He slowly lost himself in the moment, his head falling backwards against the pool's edge with a low groan. His eyes lingered on her ass raised out of the water, glistening pale under the sun, a true beauty that made his cock twitch harder in her mouth, urging her on.

She's… I haven't been very kind to her either.

With a sigh, he closed his eyes and just immersed himself in the sensations, letting the world narrow to the heat of her mouth and the lap of water against his skin.

He couldn’t see her face, but his cock told him everything; every single slip and slide of her tongue on his sensitive skin. His flesh pole flexed involuntarily against her boneless flesh, swelling thicker in response to the unseen torment. 

He felt her hand, slipping into the mix, slender fingers wrapping firm around the base where her lips couldn't reach, stroking him under the water with a slow, twisting pump. The liquid drag made each glide feel slicker, dirtier.

She was holding her breath for so long, surprisingly. Her lungs burning for him as she pushed her limits to wring out his pleasure.

Thankfully, there was privacy at the pool. He could smell the sweet fragrances of the water, floral and clean like jonquils in bloom, but there was a burning scent of the town mixed as well. Acrid smoke from the pirate raid lingered in the air, a grim reminder.

Splash!

"Gaaaah… Can't hold it longer… gah!" Ros came out of the water, her crimson red hair splashing water around in a wild arc, droplets flying like jewels. Her lips swollen and glistening, chest heaving.

Wylis chuckled, the sound rough with lingering hunger, and cupped her dripping face between his broad palms. His thumbs swept over her flushed cheeks, tracing the water-beads. His eyes locked on hers, and the raw need in them made her breath hitch. 

One thick arm slid down, hooked around her waist, and dragged her in until she straddled his thighs in the warm water, her slick heat flattening along the rigid length of his cock.

She rose with him, and her magnificent breasts broke the surface. Heavy, milk-pale, impossibly soft, glistening with pool water that rolled down her lush curves. They pressed against his hard chest and deliciously spilled over. The flushed pink of her stiff nipples teasingly dragged across his skin.

Wylis couldn’t tear his gaze away. Big, soft, those red nipples begging to be sucked raw. Hers was the body of a woman made for sin and motherhood both. Fluffy in every place a man wanted to grip, yet sleek enough that his hands could still span her waist.

"Take me in." He ordered with a hungry grin. 

Ros’s lips curved into a greedy, knowing smile. She lifted just enough, fingers slipping under the water to wrap around his throbbing shaft. She guided that fat, angry crown to her entrance and sank down slowly. Torturously slow, watching his face the whole time.

"Oooooooh! Always… stretch me so… oh much!" She moaned, back arching. But there was no real pain in it. Only the familiar, delicious ache of being pried open by him. Her cunt welcomed it, even as it fluttered and fought the unrelenting stretch. 

Wylis leaned in, mouth finding the column of her neck, arms crushing her plush body to his chest until those glorious tits flattened and molded against him. He kissed, sucked, and bit. Tongue lapping wet trails, teeth scraping, marking dark purple across her pale skin. 

Under the water, it was heaven. The cool pool swirling around his balls, teasing the sensitive skin, while her cunt burned molten hot, the slipperiness letting her glide yet gripping him like wet silk. Her hips rolled, back and forth in greedy little circles that massaged him thoroughly. Her smooth ass brushed his thighs, over and over.

Ros took in another thick inch, her delicate petals stretching taut around his girth, fluttering wildly as if trying to pull him deeper by force. She moaned continuously, body writhing in his iron embrace, yet still forcing herself down, down until the fat head of his cock kissed the gates of her womb.

“Oh! So much… feels like our first time… every single time,” she gasped in sheer pleasure.

At last, her ass settled fully on his lap. That lush, warm flesh overflowed across his thighs like warm dough. Her cunt clamped around his root, tight, pulsing, a perfect sheath. 

Wylis felt every throb of his cock answered by the rhythmic twitch of her walls, milking, fluttering, worshiping his entire buried length.

Only then did he loosen the crushing hug, easing back just enough to drink in her face. Ros, flushed and dripping, lips swollen, eyes glassy with lust and something softer. She was mature, ripe, a woman in full bloom, despite sharing the same age. Her body was built for this. Heavy swells that begged to leak milk someday, hips wide enough to carry his babes, a cunt that gripped like it was born for his cock.

In a moment, Wylis made a decision. 

"Ros…"

"Hmmmh?"

"Don't take the Moon Tea tonight."

"..."

Silence hung between them for a moment.

Then her hands flew to his head, fingers tangling in his wet hair. The smile that broke across her face was radiant, utterly triumphant. And she willingly moved her body, rising to the tip of his swollen crown and then…

"YESSSSSSS!"

She slammed herself down, hard and reckless. Water splashed around them in sheets as she rode him like a woman possessed, screaming yes, yes, yes with every violent drop of her hips. Her cunt swallowed him to the hilt again and again, greedy and grateful and utterly lost to pleasure.

Wylis’s hands clawed into her round, fat asscheeks, fingers sinking deep into plush flesh, dimpling the pale skin as he spread her wider. He yanked her down harder, claiming every inch of the ride.

Splash! Splash!

“Yes, yes, yes… Finally! Oh, I waited for so long!” Ros cried out in ecstasy as her hips snapped down again and again, water exploding around them.

“Forgive me for keeping you waiting,” Wylis grunted, drowning in the molten clutch of her cunt, every slam of her body dragging him deeper.

"Ooooooh… Gods!" Ros screamed and crashed her mouth to his, tongue plunging wildly, curling and swiping like she meant to devour his very soul through the kiss.

She ground her hips in desperate circles, tears spilling hot down her cheeks while she fought his tongue for dominance. Her arms were locked around his neck, nails raking the broad slabs of his back as if she wanted to drag him inside her skin. Her ass kept rolling, cunt sucking greedily at his cock.

He was so mighty, so dangerous to the world, yet here she was protected and impaled on the lap of the powerful man. No other cock would ever do. None could stretch her, ruin her, complete her like this. 

All her life, she’d sold parts of herself for scraps of safety. That time Wylis came to see her with coin, she didn't know why, but he felt different. Kind yet rational, honorable yet mighty. 

She thought nothing of it at first, but now…

Wylis felt like a home she had longed for all her life. She wanted to belong to him desperately. She wanted to forget that fear that she'd be thrown away, back on the streets, forced to do what she'd forgotten. 

And now, Wylis had agreed to give her her life's greatest gift. And Gods, she was willing to give him more and more and as many as he wanted. 

She kissed him messily, drunkenly. Her lips slid from his mouth to his eyes, his nose, his cheeks, and his forehead. She worshiped every inch of his face while her hips never stopped churning, breasts crushed between them, nipples dragging sparks across his chest.

“Oh—mmmmm!” Ros whimpered into his skin, grinding so hard her clit mashed against his pelvis with every thrust.

Then it hit. Her climax tore through her like wildfire. Her cunt seized, spasming violently around his buried cock, milking him in ruthless pulses. She burst and didn’t stop. Wave after wave crashing, her walls trembling and clamping, gushing out sweet nectar that mixed with the pool water. Her entire body convulsed, thighs quaking, belly trembling; every muscle locked in blinding ecstasy.

“I wanted thissss! I–I wanted you–ur babe… So–oooh fucking long!” she wailed, stuttering in bliss and broken with joy.

Her back arched, head thrown to the sky. “Oooooooh! Wylis… I… belong… to you!”

The motion thrust her heavy breasts upward, and Wylis’s mouth latched onto one stiff nipple without thought. Sucking hard, teeth grazing, tongue lashing the peak until she shattered again. 

A second, deeper release ripped through her just as his cock jerked inside her core. The first thick rope of his virile cream blasted against her womb, scalding, flooding every secret crease. 

She felt every pulse, every heavy spurt painting her insides white, marking her, breeding her, the heat blooming low in her belly like lava.

She cried, real tears this time. Tears of happiness as the truth sank in. Soon she would swell, round and ripe with his child, and it would be because of this enormous, gorgeous man. She belonged to him now in every way possible.

"Ugh… Ros!"

Wylis groaned her name, and in that instant, every shadow of the burnt town, the ruined ships, the mocking pirates, everything burned away. There was only Ros. Her scent, her heat, the soft weight of her in his arms, the way her cunt still fluttered around him in tender aftershocks.

And he wanted to feel her, closer, deeper. 

He wrapped his arms around her once more and crushed her to his chest, feeling the last lazy spurts of his seed spill into her welcoming womb. Her soft, spent body draped over him, face buried in the crook of his shoulder, mumbling sleepy nonsense against his skin.

Should've done this months ago. 

His cock stayed hard, lodged deep in that creamy, throbbing heaven. But for now, he only wanted her warmth. She was the woman who took his virginity, after all, in this life. 

Ting!

He expected that chime to ring. His seed was quite virile to begin with. It was impossible not to breed her in one go. 

[Side Quest Failed - Pirating The Pirates
Description - A Tyrant knows how to turn a tragedy into an opportunity.
Goal - Capture Pirate Ships (8/17)
Reward - Sailor Talent Finder]

To his dismay, it felt like Tyrant's Squire was mocking him. The chime notified him of something else. 

And the penalty? 

Seeing nothing in the notification, he summoned Tyrant's Squire's screen and looked at the Quest list. There was a new tab inside there, named 'Failed Quests'. He clicked on it, and there it was, written at the bottom of the screen. 

[Side Quest Failed - Pirating The Pirates
Penalty - All Tyrant’s Squire perks are unusable for 24 Hours.

[Note: Rewards of Failed Quests become permanently lost. Meaning, the said reward will never be offered again.]

Wylis took a sigh of relief. He feared the penalty would be his lifespan. But still, this one stung. The reward for this quest was 'Sailor Talent Finder', which would have let him find men with innate talent for sailing. 

As for losing all perks for a whole day. He could accept that. It was reasonable but also scary. What if he lost a quest during an important battle? Would the penalty last longer than a day if it were a more important Quest? 

Ugh… I can feel it already. 

There was also an immediate effect. He felt weak all of a sudden. All the perks that were keeping him strong and boosted were gone. He was no longer superhuman, but just a naturally strong, fit man. He didn’t have Earthbending either, he tried it and couldn’t sense anything.

Ting!

[Main Quest Completed - Maiden's Conqueror
Description - The Rebellion has ended, but old maggots still roam. Bring House Mooton of Maidenpool to heel.
Rewards - New Title, Fame, Hidden Targaryen Treasure Chest]

Oh? I didn't fail that? 

Ting!

[Tyrant's Title Acquired!]

[Tyrant's Title - The Pirate Hunter
Description - You have started a crusade against those who take what belongs to others. Pirates are aspiring Tyrants, but there can only be one true Tyrant.
Effect - 100% Earthbending boost when facing a Pirate.]

A-A hundred what?!

But before he could even digest that, he felt new information appear inside his head. It was the location of the hidden Targaryen treasure chest, and it wasn't that far away from Jonquil's Pool itself, but it was underground. 

Ting!

[Name: Ros
Age: 21
Occupation: Wenda's Handmaiden
Current Loyalty: 100%
Status: Impregnated]

There was that, of course. But to Wylis, it appeared the greatest reward he'd received was from Ros. For some reason, she was already a hundred percent loyal towards him. And truly, he cherished loyalty more than anything else. 

"Ros, let's take this to the bedchamber."

He stood up, lifting her with him, hands supporting her hips. He’d lost his perks, but he was still Wylis, the seven-foot giant. Besides, listening to her giggling was heartwarming.

"Let me make love to you all night."