Dany spent half an hour crafting an anti-evil chest for Sam, stuffing the half-dead wight inside and locking it tight.
After raising several toasts at the banquet and exchanging a few pleasantries with Qhono and the others, she went to the blacksmith's forge to discuss improvements to dragonglass weapons.
That afternoon at the docks, while hunting wights, Dany suddenly noticed a major problem: her guards had dragonglass daggers, short swords, arrows, and long spears with wooden shafts and dragonglass heads, but no "heavy weapons" capable of delivering devastating blows—powerful enough to face the wights head-on.
Weapons like greatswords or massive blades.
Spears could be considered a solid option, but their killing power came only from the tip, which meant they were limited to thrusting. Worse still, the spearheads snapped too easily.
This made them far less efficient in battle.
Dany first wondered if a mace embedded with dragonglass spikes could be forged. Then inspiration struck. Another, more suitable weapon flashed through her mind (a reader's idea, in fact): the macuahuitl.
The macuahuitl was a serrated blade invented by the Aztecs: a wooden body shaped like a paddle, with sharp, brittle obsidian crystals embedded along the edges.
In truth, obsidian is volcanic rock—and in this fantasy world, it was equivalent to dragonglass.
Which meant that by replacing the obsidian with dragonglass, Dany could almost perfectly recreate the macuahuitl.
Even in human wars, the macuahuitl was considered a deadly weapon, fiercer and bloodier than most broadswords. A single swing could sever a man's head—or a horse's.
Dany forged thirty sharp "dragonglass fangs" on the spot, embedded them along both sides of a meter-long wooden club, then swung it hard and chopped straight through a peach tree as thick as a man's wrist.
The dragonglass did not shatter.
"From now on, we'll use this."
After some thought, she realized she couldn't call it by the foreign-sounding name "macuahuitl."
Nor could she leave it nameless, or others might, in their excitement, dub it something embarrassing like "Dany's Teeth," "The Dragon Queen's Paddle," or "The Queen's Blade."
"This weapon shall be called 'Dragonfang.' I drew the idea from watching Bright R'hllor gnawing on prey."
Shamelessly, Dany claimed the invention as her own.
"From now on, Dragonfang will serve as our main combat weapon, paired with daggers. We'll abandon short swords and spears. The teeth of the Dragonfang can also be set into wooden shafts to make spears.
We can even craft scorpion bolts tipped with Dragonfang spikes.
Everything will be standardized: all Dragonfangs forged with identical triangular spikes.
Daggers and arrowheads should also be standardized to speed up production.
All we need to do is forge triangular teeth, daggers, and arrowheads. As for the wooden blades, shafts, and arrow shafts, the Night's Watch can handle those themselves. Beyond the Wall, there's an abundance of ironwood, oaks, and weirwoods—far easier to obtain than on Dragonstone."
Bronn swung the Dragonfang blade the queen had forged and reminded her, "Your Grace, Dragonfang's techniques differ from swords. Since you've created a new weapon, a matching fighting style must be developed to unleash its full potential."
Dany looked at the sellsword earl with surprise, silently praising his cleverness.
"Very good. I'll leave this to you. You can correspond with the Night's Watch by raven and together develop a new form of swordplay."
"At once!" Bronn readily agreed.
As Dany was about to leave, the Old Crab called out to her and spoke solemnly. "Your Grace, after seeing the wight, I now view your relief efforts in the Riverlands differently."
"Oh? You fear there won't be enough grain?" Dany raised an eyebrow.
"Dragonstone still holds a hundred thousand tons of grain. Combined, Dragonstone, Crab Isle, and Tideshead have fewer than five thousand households—enough to last twenty years.
Besides, Tideshead and Crab Isle already had stores. We also have coin to buy more." The Old Crab waved a hand.
"Then why?" Dany asked curiously.
"We must prepare for the worst! A single wight froze the sea. Without you present, we could never have caught it. That's why I fear the Wall cannot hold." The Old Crab's face grew grave.
"Hah, don't worry. The Wall will never fall. A warding formation lies beneath it. The wights cannot pass." Dany smiled to reassure him.
"What if they swim? Or freeze the bay and bypass the Wall?" the Old Crab pressed.
"The White Walker King wouldn't stoop to such dishonor, would he? That would be far too despicable." Dany's tone, however, wavered with doubt.
Hadn't she just faced one earlier that cowardly hid by the ship's rudder?
"I certainly hope the Wall can hold, but preparing for the worst is never wrong," the Old Crab insisted.
"Earl, you're right!" Dany nodded, her careless expression vanishing.
All her wealth lay in Slaver's Bay. She had been preoccupied with fighting the coalition army and had grown too relaxed, too optimistic about the wights beyond the Wall.
"What do you propose?" she asked seriously.
"Secure the first line of defense, then establish the second and third! The Wall is the first—and most crucial—line.
After today, I will personally write to the lords, urging them to send knights and soldiers to Dragonstone. They will march with dragonglass weapons to Eastwatch.
The Wall must be defended at all costs!" the Old Crab declared solemnly.
"Hadn't I already issued such a call?" Dany asked.
"This time is different. Archmaester Pyllos, Bronn, Qhono, and two to three thousand others have now seen the wight with their own eyes. Before Sam departs, I will also invite nearby lords to Dragonstone to witness it."
Dany cautioned, "Be careful not to damage my anti-evil chest."
"I will. The second line of defense should be at the Neck. Both ends are natural chokepoints—abandoning them would be wasteful. The third line will be after the wights breach into the Riverlands, where each kingdom must defend its own borders.
The Riverlands and Reach are flat and impossible to defend, so they must be abandoned.
But the Westerlands are mountainous. Casterly Rock itself was carved from the heart of the mountains, and can serve as a bastion." The Old Crab carefully watched the queen's expression.
Dany guessed his concern and laughed aloud. "Earl Celtigar, today I've seen your true vision. Well said! Before the wights, all personal grudges must be set aside."
Hmm, let's put that aside for now.
"I will take my revenge only after all the disasters have passed. Then, with great majesty, I will defeat the enemy, convene a grand council, and pass judgment before the eyes of all the lords of the realm."
"Your Majesty, wise indeed!"
For the first time in his life, the Old Crab was deeply moved. At his age, after being a wily old fox for a lifetime, his eyes actually grew moist.
Truth be told, his original resolve was not so noble. He had only wanted to sneak through the Long Night and safeguard his own family.
But the White Walkers' savagery struck him like a basin of cold water: if the Long Night was not ended, the world would be frozen. How could Saltpans survive then?
More importantly, the old earl had suddenly realized one thing with certainty: the Dragon Queen was the pillar of this great tribulation of the Long Night. She was the savior, even without the title of one.
If Daenerys, with five dragons, hundreds of thousands of troops, godlike sorcery, eighteen tons of Valyrian steel, and the restoration of Valyrian magic networks, could not save the world, then who could?
If there were another savior, they would have to be even stronger than she was. But in this world, whether in single combat or in battle, who could truly claim to be stronger than her?
It was obvious. The world could only be saved by the Dragon Queen.
And he himself was the Dragon Queen's "Hand of the Queen"—at the very least, Dragonstone was under his command.
As the "Hand of the Savior," the Old Crab suddenly felt a mission weighing on him: "If I do not give my all, how can the world survive?"
"Go on." Seeing the Old Crab moved to tears, Daenerys felt a little uncomfortable.
"Oh. The Riverlands, the Reach, the Crownlands, and the Stormlands cannot be defended. Dorne has the Boneway, and the Vale has the Bloody Gate—both natural strongholds.
But the Riverlands, the Reach, the Crownlands, and the Stormlands cannot simply be abandoned. We are talking about millions of lives, and the very heart of Westeros lies within those four kingdoms.
Therefore, it is necessary to establish a third line of defense.
This third line means finding naturally strategic terrain and building man-made strongholds.
Other regions can be discussed later, but the Crownlands are the Targaryen stronghold. It would be best if you preserved as many of the common folk and nobles as possible.
My idea is to build the Crownlands' third line of defense on the Claw Isle Peninsula."
Daenerys considered the peninsula's complicated terrain, then nodded. "You intend to use Riverlands grain as payment and hire refugees to construct fortifications on the peninsula, correct?"
"What does Your Majesty think?" the Old Crab asked expectantly.
"Where exactly on the peninsula do you plan to build these strongholds?" Daenerys asked.
"Crown's Nest and Whispers Hold. Both are located at the peninsula's tip, high on cliffs, very close to Claw Isle, Dragonstone, and the Vale's Gulltown.
The Brune family of Crown's Nest and the Crabb family of Whispers Hold have always been loyal to the Targaryens. Both fought alongside Prince Rhaegar in the final Battle of the Trident, and both declined under Robert's reign.
Unfortunately, Crown's Nest still has a master, but Whispers Hold is nearly abandoned. It is not even certain if the Crabb family still has any heirs," the Old Crab said with a sigh.
"Then let's help them restore the castle while we're at it!" Daenerys sighed. "Earl, this task shall fall to you."
After a moment's thought, Daenerys added, "Also, work with Marwyn to choose a few trustworthy alchemists from the group that brewed wildfire on Tidehead Isle. Teach them the sorcery of using glass candles to connect to the magical network."
"You mean to send them across the land to maintain daily, real-time contact?"
The Old Crab grew excited. "Your Majesty, that would be nothing short of restoring the splendor of Valyria!"
"Perhaps we may even surpass Valyria," Daenerys said with a faint smile.
Midnight.
Daenerys rode Drogon to a hill ten kilometers north of Gawthorpe.
As she flew over the Valyrian Highway, where steel was smelted by day, she couldn't help but smile at the sight below: on the darkened land, torches and campfires flared up like stars.
They were mercenaries, farmers, and merchants who had all come in search of the Dragon Queen's cache of Valyrian steel.
Thousands upon thousands, spread across the plains and riverbanks for kilometers around.
Even beneath the hill where Jorah and Clinton were hiding, campfires burned.
Eighteen tons of Valyrian steel was far too great a temptation.
"Huh? What's going on here?"
Daenerys landed atop a rugged ridge and was surprised to see the steel ingots still piled there. Jorah and Clinton stood guard nearby, while Rhaegal lay sprawled on the ground, fast asleep.
"Your Majesty, you've returned," Jorah and Clinton hurried over to greet her.
She saw anxiety and confusion written on both their faces.
"Your Majesty, after dropping only ten ingots in the first half of the night, Rhaegal refused to work any further. No matter how we tried to persuade him, he wouldn't listen," Jorah complained.
"Rhaegal, what's going on?" Daenerys asked in surprise.
Could it be that he had reached a rebellious phase?
Impossible. He was only three years old.
And even if he wanted to rebel, would he dare disobey his big brother, Drogon?
"Skreeee—" Rhaegal let out a low cry, filled with grievance and tinged with fear.
"Who did you encounter?" Daenerys' expression darkened, and her tone grew solemn.
(End of Chapter)
Want to read the chapters in Advance? Join my Patreon
https://patreon.com/Glimmer09