Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 313 Tyrion Lannister

On the massive hull of the Grey Sea King's Wrath, Tyrion Lannister spent an unexpected and carefree period of his life. His small figure excitedly moved between the masts, ropes, and cabins every day, looking up at how this unprecedented behemoth navigated the waves, his eyes filled with childlike curiosity and wonder.

He quickly blended in with this group of rugged ironmen. At night, he would hold a large rum goblet that matched his size, squeeze among the sailors surrounding the barrels, and drink the spicy rum with them, listening to them boast about their sea exploits in deafening voices.

Here, the Lannister name and lion emblem lose their weight on the continent, and the Targaryen dragon-king legacy is equally insignificant.

Tiemin's values ​​are pure and direct: they only respect true strength, whether it be martial prowess, wisdom, or even drinking capacity.

They called him "Little Imp" without any politeness, but their tone lacked the disdain or deliberate aloofness common in Westeros. It was more like a crudely affectionate nickname based on a direct description. To his surprise, Tyrion wasn't offended. Instead, he found these boorish Ironborn far more genuine and endearing than the whispering "adults" behind his back.

These weathered old sailors would pat him on the shoulder, reeking of alcohol, and tell him about the thrills of navigating longships through storms, the legends of battling strange sea monsters in the misty sea, and their experiences in distant ports such as Rhys, Qarth, and Asshai.

They described the allure of exotic women, the strange architecture, the spicy spices, and the experiences and opportunities that were unheard of by the nobility of the continent.

These rough yet vivid stories opened a window for Tyrion to a wider world, far more vivid and enticing than any scholar's tome.

Amidst the murmur of the waves and the billowing of the sails, Euron summoned Tyrion to the captain's cabin one night. A huge nautical chart was spread out on the table, scattered with markings representing fleets and ports, but Euron's finger crossed the Narrow Sea and pressed heavily on the map of Westeros.

"Little Imp," Euron's tone held no mockery, only an almost burning seriousness, "I have an idea that I need your priceless brain to consider." He gestured for Tyrion to come closer, his voice lowered yet carrying immense weight, "I want to establish our own bank in Westeros."

The idea itself was groundbreaking enough. But Euron's next words made Tyrion's eyes, which were of different sizes, widen in shock.

"The Iron Treasury, through its lending, has made the kings of the Seven Kingdoms bow and scrape before them," Euron said, a cold and wild smile curving his lips, a storm seemingly gathering in his deep eyes. "If they can do it, why can't we?"

Moreover, we want to do it better and bigger!

Euron's gaze locked onto Tyrion like a hawk's, his words like unsheathed blades, making no attempt to conceal his overwhelming ambition: "My goal is not to become a second Iron Bank. My goal is to surpass it, crush it, and ultimately—swallow it up, replace it! To let the pulse of money in the future Seven Kingdoms, and indeed the entire world, beat under the control of my bank, Euron Greyjoy!"

This unwavering trust, coupled with this massive plan capable of upending the world, made Tyrion's heart pound.

This was far more ambitious and far more insane than any conspiracy or strategy he had ever heard of. Never before in the Lannister family had he been entrusted with such a weighty responsibility, never before had such undisguised ultimate ambition been heard. At this moment, he felt not only the joy of being recognized, but also the thrill of finding a kindred spirit whose intellectual frequency resonated with his own. Euron had not only seen his worth, but also regarded him as the first and most important companion in achieving this earth-shattering feat.

Euron's question, like a stone thrown into a pond, created invisible ripples in the captain's cabin. He looked at Tyrion, awaiting his answer.

Tyrion didn't immediately respond. He frowned slightly, a glint of reason and deliberation flashing in his heterochromatic eyes. He gently swirled the remaining wine in his glass, pondering for a moment before speaking: "I would be very willing to dedicate my limited wisdom to such a—earth-shattering cause." He first affirmed the invitation, then changed the subject, displaying a rare clarity and self-awareness, "But if I may be frank, I'm afraid I'm not yet fully capable of shouldering this responsibility. I have indeed, through some—"

I've learned about the banking system and Ironclad's operating style through informal channels, but compared to your grand vision of merging and replacing it, what I know is just a drop in the ocean. I'm afraid I need much more learning and deeper thinking to truly be of help, rather than mess it up.

To Tyrion's surprise, Euron was not disappointed at all; instead, he burst into a loud and hearty laugh. "Good! Very good!" Euron slammed his hand on the table, his eyes full of admiration. "If you had agreed right now and confidently said you could do it easily, I would have doubted your intelligence and sincerity. Admitting your shortcomings is the starting point of true wisdom."

Euron stopped laughing, his gaze sharpening as he returned to the main topic: "Well, every beginning is difficult. Let's start with this first step." Before Tyrion could reply, Euron unveiled his long-brewing idea: "Before the Battle of King's Landing, the Iron Bank came to Harrenhal to discuss lending and repayment. I proposed that King Robert borrow three million gold dragons from the Iron Bank, some of which I intended to use as start-up capital for the bank."

He extended his finger, continuing to outline the capital map: "Furthermore, I would like to bring in your father, Lord Tywin, the wealthy Tyrell and Redwyn families of Highgarden, and my father-in-law, Prince Doran, to invest together. The combined wealth of our families should be more than enough as start-up capital for the bank."

At this point, Euron's brow furrowed slightly, revealing a clear understanding of the future: "This money is enough for us to set up a bank in King's Landing or Oldtown. But how to make it truly operational, how to expand its scale, and most importantly, how to ensure its long-term, stable survival, rather than just a fleeting success—these are the real challenges we need to rack our brains over. We will be facing the Iron Bank's centuries-old reputation and ubiquitous influence; this is tantamount to a war without gunfire."

Under the flickering whale oil lamp, Euron and Tyrion leaned over the chart table, the still-wet ink on the parchment charts pushed aside, replaced by drafts filled with hastily scribbled numbers and strategies. The two began to meticulously plan how to persuade shrewd potential investors and outline the bank's initial business blueprint.

“To convince my father,” Tyrion said, taking a sip of his wine and smiling sharply, “he must see unparalleled benefits, and—more importantly, the consolidation of Lannister power.” He dipped his brush in ink and wrote the words “Royal Debt” on the paper.

"The Seven Kingdoms are currently suffering greatly from the war, and there are bound to be many borrowers. King Robert's current golden dragons are far from sufficient to cover the kingdom's expenses, and he will inevitably borrow heavily. We can propose this to my father: a portion of the golden dragons lent to King Robert by the bank can be funded by the Lannister family. This is not simply a loan, but rather transforming the Lannisters' claims into formal financial claims against the royal family through our bank. This means that the Lannister family's influence over the Iron Throne will move from behind the scenes to the forefront, becoming more institutionalized and unshakeable. Lord Tywin will not only be the Warden of the Westerlands, but also the King's 'banker,' possessing the legitimate power to inconvenience the royal family at any time."

Euron added, "And once the bank is up and running, the future output of the Westerlands gold mines can be directly deposited into our bank for capital operations, instead of just piling up in the cellars of Casterly Rock to rot. Tell him that what we're going to do is make gold produce more gold."

Tyrion nodded in agreement.

The strategy needs to be adjusted for the wealthy Tyrell and Redwyn families.

“Highgarden and Greenwood are not short of money,” Tyrion analyzed. “What they lack is a channel to convert their wealth into long-term, stable influence, and financial security to deal with potential future risks, such as another war. We can promise that once the bank is established, it will prioritize providing convenient exchange and low-interest loan services for the Reach’s grain and wine trade, accelerating their cash flow and reducing transaction risks.”

Euron nodded. “More importantly, we can design a prototype of a ‘war bond,’ or rather, a ‘territory development bond.’ If they invest, in the future when Highgarden needs huge sums of money, our banks can issue bonds for them, guaranteed by the banks’ credit, to raise funds from the Seven Kingdoms. This is far more powerful than them dealing with a financial crisis alone. Tell Mace Tyrell and Paxter Redwyn that this is not an investment, but rather purchasing a future-oriented ‘financial insurance’ for the Reach.”

Regarding the specific business operations of the bank in its initial stages, the two also outlined clear steps:

The core business of future banks will be serving as the financial stewards of the royal family. Their primary task will be to manage the enormous sums of money lent to the royal family responsibly, establish a reliable interest collection process, and cultivate an image of close cooperation between the bank and the Iron Throne—this is the cornerstone of their credibility.

Secondly, there are basic services, such as remittance and savings services for nobles throughout the seven kingdoms. By leveraging connections with various families, safe and convenient remittance services are provided for large-scale cross-regional transactions among nobles, and their idle funds are absorbed as savings, with interest paid to form a capital pool, which allows the initial principal to grow continuously.

It can also develop other distinctive businesses, such as collateralized loans and trade financing. Unlike the Iron Treasury's sometimes overly harsh conditions, it can initially accept collateral such as grain, wine, furs, and even future mining rights to issue loans, attracting more nobles and wealthy merchants.

Finally, they would differentiate themselves by using Euron's fleet and established maritime trade routes to gather trade intelligence from around the world, especially Essos, to provide paid information services to clients and even to plan ahead for commodity trading.

"We must make everyone see," Euron concluded, tapping his finger heavily on the paper, "that we are not just another lender, but a financial organ that can be integrated into their blood and help them become stronger and richer."

The Iron Treasury uses fear and coercion, while we will use shared interests and mutual growth to firmly bind them to our chariot.

This deeply ingrained scheme made Tyrion feel as if he could already see the invisible swords and shadows on the future financial battlefield, and he was standing at the forefront of the storm.

Euron stared intently at Tyrion: "Once our bank is firmly established on this continent, the high-backed chair of the bank will rightfully belong to you. Only your head is worthy of that position."

Tyrion listened and let out his signature, slightly hoarse chuckle. He shook his massive head, poured himself another glass of wine, and said with his usual self-deprecating and shrewd banter, "Bank manager? Spare me, Euron. That's a deadly job, dealing with countless hypocritical faces and endless haggling." He raised his glass, examining the amber liquid under the light. "Just give me a comfortable, lucrative position, one that guarantees me the finest Kraken wine and the hottest women for the rest of my life, and I'll be perfectly content."

His smile faded slightly, and a rare, almost serious, frankness flashed in his heterochromatic eyes: "However, I must make this clear from the start. We are partners, we are friends, but the blood flowing in our veins cannot be changed. My surname is Lannister." He pointed to his chest, "If—I mean, if—one day in the future our interests clash irreconcilably with Casterly Rock's, I will choose my family first. Even if—"

He paused, his voice lowering, tinged with a barely perceptible bitterness, and said, "Although the man I call father may never have truly regarded me as his son."

These candid, almost brutal words were particularly clear in the flickering lamplight. They were both a statement and a test—a test of Euron's magnanimity and the resilience of this nascent alliance.

Upon hearing this, Euron was not angered at all. Instead, he nodded very seriously and replied frankly, "Of course. If you swore allegiance without hesitation, I would throw you into the sea to feed the crabs immediately. It is precisely your undisguised scheming that makes me feel that I can conspire with you on great things." He tapped the table with his rough fingers. "I will always be on guard against you making such a choice, just as you will always be on guard against me using you as a pawn one day. This is the kind of honesty that should exist between us."

This unpretentious response initially startled Tyrion, but then a sense of relief and joy at finding a kindred spirit welled up within him. He was no longer just the "little devil" rejected by his family, but here, with someone who also deeply understood the darkness of human nature...

And the ambitious individuals who put it on the table reached a dangerous consensus.

"For our—mutual distrust?" Tyrion laughed, raising his glass, his eyes gleaming with a complex light.

"For this damned yet sober consensus!" Euron raised his glass and clinked it heavily against Tyrion's.

The crisp sound of the impact mingled with the two men's carefree, yet somewhat unrestrained laughter, echoing throughout the captain's cabin.

There were no false vows, only a clear understanding and acceptance of each other's positions and calculations. This alliance, built on mutual benefit and vigilance, seemed stronger than many blood ties at this moment.