Game of Thrones, Ice and Fire, I hatched the Black Death.

Chapter 22 Treasure 1 cent

Old Tim's warning left a deep echo in Will's heart.

The campsite is boiling water, and the shipwreck hill is a volcano about to erupt.

He and Daenerys were like two leaves that had fallen by chance, and could be burned or swallowed up at any moment.

However, the pull of reality is often stronger than the admonitions of reason.

The bag of money in their hands, though not abundant, was enough to last for several months, meaning they could temporarily say goodbye to the predicament of not knowing where their next meal would come from, and could buy better tools, clothing, and perhaps even get a decent weapon or two.

Shadowflame's persistent, albeit subtle, attention to Shipwreck Hill was like an invisible thread, tugging at Will's curiosity and anticipation—was there really something there that would benefit the growth of dragons?

He decided to stay a few more days.

Use the new money cautiously to replenish necessities, while observing more carefully, gathering information, and then making a final decision—whether to leave completely, or...

To conduct an extremely cautious, tentative exploration.

The next day, Will traded a few copper coins with a gloomy-looking woman for two slightly worn but thicker coarse cloth coats and a wool blanket.

For a silver coin, I bought a second-hand short sword with a fairly intact blade and a leather sheath from a sly arms dealer, replacing my badly chipped hunting knife.

He also bought some durable hard bread, salted meat jerky, a small jar of grease, and tinder.

Daenerys traded the spices for some needles and thread, a relatively clean piece of linen, and a small packet of dried herbs that were said to repel insects.

They completed their purchase discreetly, hiding the items carefully in their shack, without attracting much attention.

Will still takes odd jobs during the day, but he is more careful to avoid getting too close to anyone who might have connections.

Daenerys rarely left the vicinity of the shack, mending clothes with the new fabric she had acquired and tending to her meager possessions.

Shadowflame remained nocturnal, and through the contract, Will knew that besides hunting, it spent most of its time hovering low and sniffing among the steep cliffs and crevices around Shipwreck Hill, seemingly trying to find a hidden path into that area or to identify the source of the scent that attracted it.

The information it brought back was still vague, but the feeling that "something was there" became clearer.

On the evening of the third day, the market closed earlier than usual.

Perhaps it was because of the bandit attack the day before, or perhaps it was because the unease in the air had intensified.

The sky was overcast, and the sea breeze carried a damp chill.

After listening to a few drunken sailors rambling on at a makeshift tavern, Ver was about to turn back.

As he passed through a secluded corner filled with discarded barrels and rubble, a dark figure suddenly stumbled out from the side and crashed heavily into him!

"Ouch!"

Both of them fell to the ground at the same time.

Will reacted extremely quickly, flipping over and kneeling the moment he fell, his hand resting on the hilt of the short sword at his waist.

The man who hit him was thin and bony, wearing an ill-fitting, greasy leather coat. His face was ashen, and his eyes darted around; he didn't look like a good person at all.

He seemed to be clutching something tightly in his hand, but the impact sent it flying out of his grasp and landing a few steps away among a pile of rotting seaweed and garbage.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't see it!" The skinny man scrambled to his feet in a panic, his eyes darting anxiously toward the spot where the object had fallen, as if he wanted to pick it up but seemed wary of Will.

Will didn't immediately pick up the thing, but stared at him coldly: "Watch where you're going."

"Yes, yes!" The gaunt man nodded and bowed, but took advantage of the moment when Will's gaze shifted slightly to pounce on the thing!

Will was prepared and moved almost simultaneously!

He was faster, kicking the man's path as he lunged forward, causing him to stumble. He then beat him to the punch, bending down and flicking the object out of the filth with his toe, placing it on the relatively clean stone slab.

It was a palm-sized, irregularly shaped, hard piece of leather.

The color is old and black, and the surface seems to have been coated with waterproof grease, but it is now mottled.

Most strikingly, the fragments are outlined with neat but fine lines, depicting mountain-like patterns, along with several heavily faded Valyrian symbols that are almost unrecognizable. Next to one of these symbols is a small, blurry mark that appears to be a sailboat.

A map fragment? Part of a treasure map?

Will felt a chill run down his spine.

He immediately recalled the rumors about the Morrison family treasure and old Tim's warning about "many eyes".

Seeing this, the gaunt man's eyes flashed with ferocity. He stopped pretending, let out a low growl, pulled out a dagger from his pocket, and stabbed at Will!

"Give it back! That's mine!"

His actions were ruthless and aimed straight for vital points, clearly those of a desperate criminal who was accustomed to using underhanded tactics.

Will dodged to the side, the dagger grazing his ribs and tearing his newly changed coat.

He seized the other man's wrist holding the dagger, twisted it forcefully, and at the same time slammed his knee into the other man's lower abdomen!

"Ugh!" The gaunt man groaned in pain, and the dagger slipped from his hand.

But he was extremely fierce; with his other hand, his five fingers were bent like hooks, and he stabbed straight into Will's eye!

Will tilted his head, and the claws left several bloody scratches on his cheek.

He showed no mercy, and with his free right hand, he drew the short sword from his waist with lightning speed. Taking advantage of the close distance between them, he stabbed the other man hard from bottom to top into his lower abdomen, which was slightly arched due to pain!

"Pfft!"

All the short swords were gone.

The gaunt man's body stiffened abruptly, his eyes widening in disbelief, a strange hoarse sound escaping his throat, and warm blood gushed out, soaking the clothes that were pressed tightly together between the two men.

Will loosened his grip on his wrist, stepped back, and drew his short sword.

Fresh blood dripped down the blade.

The man collapsed softly to the ground, twitched a few times, and then remained still.

There was dead silence all around.

Only the whistling of the sea breeze through the cracks in the wooden barrels and the faint clamor from the distant campsite could be heard.

This corner was too secluded; the brief but intense fight just now went unnoticed by anyone.

Will was breathing heavily, his heart pounding.

This was his second murder, closer and more direct than the last; the warm blood even splattered on his hands and face.

A wave of nausea rose in his throat, which he forcibly suppressed.

He crouched down and quickly examined the body.

The man had nothing on him except a few copper coins and a rusty key.

It seems to be a lone thief or information broker who somehow obtained this map fragment but lost his life because of it.

Will picked up the piece of leather, wiped away the dirt and bloodstains with the corner of the dead man's clothes, and quickly glanced at it.

The terrain was unfamiliar and the symbols were hard to decipher, but the sailboat mark and the texture of the map were undoubtedly related to the treasure legend of "Silver Sail" Morrison.

The trouble is big.

This thing is a hot potato.

Who knows how many people know about its existence? Did this dead thief have any accomplices?

Did anyone see him holding this fragment?

Did the "many eyes" that Old Tim mentioned notice this fragment, or even the conflict that just occurred?