"You're still pregnant. Wait until you give birth in a month. By then, the lords of the Stormlands will have gathered at Storm's End, and a large number of common folk will surely follow.
The great lords are complicated and not easy to win over. Start by selecting strong men from the commoners to form the 'Sansa Guard,' and place them under Brienne's command to establish an initial foundation.
When the army of wights begins its siege, take the initiative to step onto the front lines and fight alongside the soldiers against the Others.
Hmm, when the time comes, I'll design a setup for you so that, under everyone's gaze, you can single-handedly kill an Other.
We can even promote it as an 'Other Duke.'
After slaying an Other Duke and leading the soldiers to repel the wight army, successfully defending Storm's End once, the lesser nobles will begin to rally to your side.
From among them, select knights with command ability and make them mid- to high-ranking officers in the 'Sansa Guard.'
In this way, your foundation will gradually mature. Your guard will gain combat experience, acquire capable officers, and grow stronger.
As this continues, you will become increasingly adept in war, win more victories, and attract more followers.
In the end, when the Long Night is over and you look back, you will find countless battle-hardened veterans standing behind you, willing to die for you and calling you 'Queen Sansa.'
They will be more reliable than anything else.
Even if the Baratheons offer five million gold dragons to buy Storm's End from you, would your loyal guard allow you to suffer such a loss?
Even if you choose to imitate my dear sister and keep your word like iron, handing over Storm's End, what you give away is only a castle. Your power will still remain.
At that time, in this vast world, there will be few who can stand against you. Where could you not go?"
Sansa listened in fascination, as if she had already crossed through time to after the Long Night. She imagined herself leading an army of a hundred thousand to the gates of King's Landing, shouting, "I want to be queen. Who agrees? Who opposes?" followed by a thunderous chorus of "Queen Sansa" echoing through the skies.
"Hehehe…" She was so delighted by the vision that she couldn't help but giggle foolishly.
Tyrion looked at her and smiled as well, a proud smile.
After laughing for a while, Sansa suddenly frowned and asked, "Your plan is indeed excellent. It deceives the enemy and hides deeper schemes within. It makes Stannis believe we are only targeting Storm's End, while overlooking its value as a third defensive front against the Others.
But I only have two hundred thousand tons of grain left. Feeding the Golden Company for small operations might work, but if I follow the Dragon Queen's grand approach, I'm afraid I don't have enough resources."
The dwarf smiled and asked, "Did Littlefinger teach you how to handle the current situation?"
A chill crept back onto Sansa's face.
"I don't want to talk about Littlefinger."
Tyrion shrugged. "Then just keep learning from the Dragon Queen. However she arranged for her people to survive the Long Night, you can copy her methods."
Sansa perked up immediately. "What did she do? I heard she has been studying magic on Dragonstone and rarely shows herself."
"Do you remember the wildlings beyond the Wall? A few days ago, when I went to Dorne, I made a detour to the Stepstones to take a look.
Compared to their bustling efficiency and orderly structure, the so-called civilized people of Westeros are far more chaotic and degenerate, almost like wildlings themselves."
Though the dwarf spoke jokingly, his expression was unusually complex.
"Perhaps I should go see them myself," Sansa said thoughtfully. "How do they sustain themselves?"
"In the far seas, they use the abilities of skinchangers to hunt whales, controlling bowhead whales to lead entire pods into traps. In the near seas, they gather shellfish, salvage seaweed, and catch crabs. On land, they form groups to collect pine nuts, raid bear dens, hunt wild boars, and pick mushrooms. Anything edible, they don't let it go to waste.
Oh, and they also build greenhouses, using wood, sawdust, and grain husks to grow mushrooms.
In just over two years, they have stockpiled 250,000 tons of food. Even now, they still produce a surplus daily. The rate of growth has slowed, but it hasn't stopped."
Recalling the giant stone granaries guarded by giants at Queen's Corner, the dwarf felt deeply moved.
"By the Mother, how did they accomplish that?" Sansa exclaimed.
"The Dragon Queen knew the wildlings couldn't grow wheat, so she had them plant sweet potato vines, turnip seedlings, and sprouted potato chunks across the mountains and fields.
The disputed lands are vast and fertile. Eighty thousand wildlings kept planting nonstop until the first batch of sweet potatoes matured.
You have no idea how high the yield of sweet potatoes is, or how short their growth cycle can be."
"But I do know sweet potatoes don't taste good. Eating them too often becomes unbearable. I also know farming requires weeding, and that land differs in quality. Not all soil can grow crops," Sansa said.
"So you're not completely ignorant," Tyrion said in surprise.
"There's a harvest festival in the North. I've worked in the fields before," Sansa replied proudly.
Though in reality, she had only ridden a horse around the wheat fields once.
The dwarf laughed. "Turning uncultivated land into fertile land is simple. Just let dragons burn it. Land scorched by dragonfire kills all weed seeds and insect eggs. Back then, Little White reclaimed land at Queen's Corner for months."
"As for sweet potatoes not tasting good, during the Long Night, survival itself is a luxury. Why worry about taste?
Actually, sweet potatoes don't store well before the Long Night. After a few months, they sprout and rot.
So after harvesting, they are processed immediately. They can be made into dried sweet potatoes, pounded into noodles by giants, or even brewed into alcohol."
"The pork, cabbage, and vermicelli stew at Queen's Corner is absolutely superb. You should try it if you get the chance," the dwarf said, smacking his lips.
After spending a day and a night on Tarth, the dwarf boarded Tysha with a strangely satisfied expression and flew toward Dragonstone.
"Your Grace, Sansa plans to establish a third defensive line against the Others at Storm's End. Lords and commoners from the Stormlands and the neighboring Reach can take refuge there…"
Inside the wizard tower glowing with red and blue magical light, Tyrion proudly explained his plan in full.
At the end, he cautiously asked, "Storm's End and Tarth will inevitably gather a large population, but food shortages remain a major issue. I wonder if you could provide a batch of fire sprites to help the people of Tarth fish and grow winter wheat?"
"Why are you so invested in her?"
A red line of fire shot out from the blue magical crystal sphere, forming a semi-transparent red armor over the Dragon Queen's body, as if created by a 3D illusion.
It was vivid and exquisitely detailed.
The dwarf watched with envy but explained, "When one lives long enough, one needs something to do. After doing it for long enough, one needs a goal.
After signing the sacred contract with Stannis, Jaime, Cersei, and the Lannisters of Casterly Rock have basically secured their safety. I should start thinking about my own future."
After learning the truth about the Seven from the Dragon Queen, his faith had collapsed, but in rebuilding his beliefs and worldview, he had come to understand himself more clearly.
At first, he returned to Westeros to help Aegon claim the throne out of his attachment to the Lannisters. He wanted to protect Casterly Rock and his familiar family, especially Jaime.
Now, he already knew what had happened at Winterfell. Since Jaime had received the Dragon Queen's evaluation as a "Gray-Robed Knight," he would not be purged.
In other words, the Dragon Queen's purge of the Lannisters was nearly complete. As for the remaining loose ends, his identity as "son of Aerys" would be enough to protect them.
As long as he ensured that the increasingly unstable Stannis did not turn his madness toward Casterly Rock, his responsibility to preserve the Lannisters in this chaotic era would be fulfilled, allowing him to pursue other ambitions.
As for the guilt of killing his father…
The dwarf admitted that learning the truth made it even more painful, but the burden of killing an adoptive father and killing a blood relative were not the same.
Besides, Tywin had treated him far too harshly, ordering soldiers to violate his wife Tysha, favoring his daughter Cersei and allowing her to torment him, and later sleeping with his lover Shae. By doing his best to save the Lannisters, he had already repaid his father's debt.
"Helping Sansa fulfills my friendship with Aegon and also allows me to realize my own value.
When I took over my father's position as Hand of the King in King's Landing, despite the difficulties, it was the most fulfilling time of my life.
I've realized that all these years, I've been waiting for an opportunity. I want to prove myself. I want to tell everyone that before them stands a giant."
Tyrion spoke with complete honesty. After finishing, he felt inexplicably lighter, as though he had begun a second life.
"If you improve wildfire and turn it into a common tool, all future scholars will regard you as a giant," Dany said calmly.
"After the Long Night, when I'm older and no longer driven by such ambition, I'll consider becoming a pure scholar," the dwarf replied.
Dany asked, "How many refugees can Tarth support?"
Tyrion perked up immediately. "Before the Andals arrived, Tarth was a prosperous kingdom. It has mountains, lakes, waterfalls, highland pastures, and plains full of wheat. With sufficient food, its freshwater and forest resources could support a population equal to King's Landing."
"Very well. For every fifty thousand people added to Tarth, I will assign you one sprite," Dany said.
"Don't you have over a thousand fire sprites? Even if one is shared among ten thousand people, that would be enough for all of Westeros."
"Don't push your luck." Dany's expression turned cold.
"I'm not being greedy. It's just that without enough 'little suns,' we can't grow wheat," Tyrion said helplessly.
"Stop dreaming. The Long Night has only just begun. It will only grow colder. Growing crops on the surface will be impossible unless you develop new wheat varieties that are more cold-resistant and adapted to low light," Dany said.
"If there is no stable food production, within two years, I fear ninety percent of Westeros's millions will die," Tyrion said with concern.
"We'll take it one step at a time. With conventional methods alone, large-scale human deaths are inevitable."
"Then… do you have unconventional methods?" The dwarf's heart stirred as he sensed deeper meaning in her words.
A flash of green light passed through Dany's eyes as she said calmly, "That depends on how far my cultivation progresses before the food runs out."
Tyrion's lips twitched. "That's far too unreliable. Who can predict cultivation?"
"Stop wasting my time. Giving me more time to cultivate is more reliable than anything else," Dany said impatiently.
As Tyrion stood there awkwardly, unsure whether to take his leave, the short and plump Jhiqui ran upstairs and called out, "Khaleesi, guests have arrived. It's Tycho of Braavos and Lord Davos of the Rainwood. Would you like to see them?"
"What are they here for?" Tyrion asked curiously.
"It seems to be about a grain purchase contract. If we calculate the timing, Braavos should be delivering food to the Queen," Jhiqui said.
"Bring them to the garden," Dany said.
(End of Chapter)
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