Vermithor stuck out its dragon head. Its bronze pupils were impatient, and it angrily opened its dragon mouth and growled.
It had just returned to its new home when something happened as soon as it turned around.
What does the driver want to do?
"Help me, Vermithor!"
Aemon was thick-skinned and waved his hands vigorously at the bronze dragon.
"Roar!"
Vermithor was angry and flew over from the new nest with its wings spread.
Its low, muffled roar sounded like very dirty curses.
Boom!
The bronze dragon slowly landed, sending fine sand flying several feet high.
The boys and girls carrying water were so scared that they fell to the ground on the spot, some directly into the water, and their faces turned pale.
"Those who can swim, save them quickly!"
Maester Muntor was anxious yet steady as he urged people to go into the water and rescue them.
Without saying a word, Steve took off his armor and white robe, went into the water, and picked up the drowning people one by one.
"Thank you for your hard work, sir."
Aemon handed him a white robe to dry off.
These boys and girls are not from Runestone City; they are orphans recruited from Newfield in King's Landing.
He didn't want to let them go, so he had to treat them well.
The episode was over.
Aemon found a pile of limestone.
Limestone is usually white or brown with a soft texture that makes it easy to break.
It is a common stone that can be found everywhere.
"Prince."
Johanna's eyes sparkled as she guessed what was about to happen.
Maester Muntor saw His Royal Highness's audacity in just a few minutes and quickly led the rest of the people to retreat.
"Dragon Flame!"
Aemon gave the order.
Vermithor looked down at a pile of rotten stones, his pupils vertical, and opened his mouth to spit out copper-bright dragon flames.
Sizzle...
The limestone quickly dissolved under the dragon flame's burning, turning into lumps of red, fiery magma.
"Stop!"
Aemon frowned.
Vermithor's flames stopped abruptly, and a puff of black smoke spurted from his nostrils.
Looking at the limestone that had been burned into liquid, Aemon asked, "Can this still be used?" "Can this still be used?"
"Yes!"
Maester Muntor replied and asked someone to deal with it. "After it cools, it will become volcanic ash. It can replace clay, and its texture is better."
Aemon's eyes were full of helplessness.
He wanted to burn lime, not volcanic ash.
"We can try again as long as we control the temperature."
Maester Muntor exerted all of his maesterly curiosity and was extremely curious about the dragon burning lime.
"Okay, then let's try again."
That was the only way.
Aemon stroked the bronze dragon's brown wing membrane and warned, "Reduce the fire; don't melt it."
He spoke in High Valyrian, keeping it simple and orderly to ensure it could be understood.
"Roar!"
Vermithor shook his dragon head, indicating his bad temper.
Soon, someone brought more limestone.
"Dragon flame!" Aemon ordered.
Vermithor was no longer reluctant but still spat out dragon flame.
This time, however, the dragon flame was much weaker.
Crackling...
The limestone burned red hot and softened.
"Stop!"
Seeing this, Aemon hurriedly called for a halt.
As a former student of compulsory education, he remembered that the limestone should not crack or shatter during the burning process.
Vermithor slowly extinguished the dragon flame, and the limestone turned gray and black as it cooled.
"Get a bucket of water," he ordered.
Maester Muntor ordered a strong young man.
The Citadel has studied countless lost skills, and burning lime is just one that is difficult to popularize.
The process is simple, but difficult and costly.
Therefore, it cannot become a mainstream building material.
While waiting for the water, the gray-black limestone gradually cooled and turned white again.
Aemon couldn't wait. He dipped his hands in the water, picked up a few pieces with his bare hands, threw them into the bucket, and smashed and stirred them.
"Dear Prince?"
Maester Muntor was astonished by this scene.
It's not scientific to hold burned quicklime with bare hands.
Not even the heat-resistant Targaryens should do this.
"Don't make a fuss, Maester."
Johanna smiled slightly and ordered more people to fetch water and stir the quicklime.
Limestone that has been burned to change color but not broken up for use has already turned into quicklime.
When quicklime meets water and heats up, it becomes a fine white paste called slaked lime that can be used.
Aemon concentrated on his work, using a wooden stick to mash the quicklime in the bucket into a paste.
"Prince, it's done,"
Maester Muntor said tremblingly.
He still couldn't accept it and needed to slow down.
"Let someone try it on the brick joints to see if it's solid."
Aemon stood up and patted the water, looking forward to the results.
The process is specific.
However, the temperature of the burning lime is not well controlled, and the cooling time is insufficient, so the lime has not completely transformed.
However, this is just an exercise, and the subsequent burning will be gradually refined.
Two old stonemasons stepped forward and built a row of low stone walls using a mixture of slaked lime and fine sand, as well as a mixture of sand and soil.
"Pay attention to the ratio: one shovel of slaked lime and three shovels of fine sand," Maester Muntor instructed.
Maester Muntor instructed from the side, and it really looked like that.
Aemon nodded slightly, thinking that Maester Muntor was indeed talented.
Similarly, he viewed the city differently.
As expected of a learning institution that gathers the continent of Westeros, it possesses a wide range of knowledge and skills.
"Unfortunately, slaked lime has reached the ceiling of the era."
Aemon felt a little regretful.
He knew how to make cement, but burning cement was more than ten times more costly and difficult than making slaked lime.
The effect of cement...
It was hard at first, but it was sensitive to sunlight and cold.
Its shelf life was no more than a hundred years, and it usually cracked after a few decades.
Using cement to build the prince's palace was disproportionate to the cost and benefits of laying the foundation.
In comparison, burning lime was simple, and slaked lime itself was more durable.
When mixed with other materials, ancient buildings using slaked lime could last a thousand years.
"Prince, why don't you move first? It will take some time for the slaked lime to bond."
Maester Muntor looked at the bronze dragon and kindly reminded him.
With such a bad-tempered dragon next to him, the craftsmen slammed their feet while laying stones.
"Go back, Vermithor."
Aemon accepted the suggestion and turned his face away from the dragon.
"Roar!"
Vermithor roared at the driver, and hot wind blew his silver hair.
Then he turned his head and flapped his wings to fly.
"Let's go too."
Aemon wiped his face and said calmly.
He had already led Vermithor's partner, Silverwing, to the river valley. What's wrong with ordering him around once or twice?
Aemon dared to speak loudly to him.
"Hiss~"
A silver dragon head with a backward-curving horn for a crown poked out of the high mountain dragon's nest. It quietly looked at its partner and the silver-haired boy.
After confirming there was nothing there, it quietly shrank back.
Give full play to the calm character of a home dragon.
...
While waiting for the quicklime to take effect, His Royal Highness remained restless.
Compared to half a month ago, there are more rows of huts on the shore of Long Lake.
Many farmers wearing coarse linen clothes squatted by the wall, staring into the distance with dull eyes.
They were subjects from the northwest of Runestone City.
The northwest bordered Raven Ridge, where there were few subjects.
Lady Rhea had decided to move these subjects to the river valley to serve as the first batch.
Aemon did not approach but whispered, "How many households are there, and how many people?"
Leaving their original lives behind and moving their whole families to a strange land would inevitably cause them to be confused and lose hope for the future for a while.
"There are a total of 509 households, each with three to ten people. That's a total of 1,824 people."
Johanna reported in both decimals and integers and added, "Only half are young, strong men and women; the other half are elderly and children."
In an era of low productivity, ordinary people have more children.
Children are the next generation of laborers, helping to support the family.
A large family will not be bullied by neighbors.
"There are a few people."
Aemon smacked his lips.
According to detailed statistics, the 3,000 young, strong people who built the prince's palace are from Runestone City and will return in the future.
In addition to the more than 100 craftsmen in the prince's camp and the 150 valley knights, only the labor camp of the firesmith department belongs to the river valley.
The 300 craftsmen and 1,000 orphans in King's Landing do not currently belong to him.
In total, the 509 households in front of him are the only real residents of the River Valley.
"There are still a few residents in the back who are harvesting crops and will slowly migrate here."
Johanna offered comfort at the right time.
"Don't disturb them for now."
Aemon did not approach.
The first survival crisis of the River Valley has arrived.
How will the new residents live?
Reclaiming wasteland is one strategy, but the River Valley is in ruins, and there are no extra people to do so.
"How long will their food last?"
It was June, and the Valley had already harvested its summer crops.
Thanks to the Westeros continent's changeable climate, it has been summer in recent years.
Johanna said: "It can last until next year's summer planting, and there is also livestock to raise."
In other words, the construction period for the Prince's Palace must be shortened.
First, though, we have to find a way for the residents to make a living.
"It's not easy."
Aemon frowned. For the first time in his life, he felt his shoulders were heavy.
He compared the difference between his uncle and his father, Daemon.
His uncle was the king, having inherited the prosperity left by his great-grandfather and continued it.
This is considered ability.
In contrast, Daemon used public funds to rebuild the Golden Robe and privately recruited mercenary troops.
At the peak of his career, he proclaimed himself the "King of the Sea."
He had only occasionally heard about Daemon riding a dragon to punish the offending pirates of the Three Women's Kingdom, but there was no news about how the Stone Steps Islands were governed.
After all, he was the second son, and his talent lay in bravery.
"Hiss!"
As I walked around the lake, I heard the roar of a young dragon in the distance.
When I looked up, I saw a light gray dragon holding a large fish and flying back from the lake.
"Gray Shadow."
Aemon chuckled.
"Hiss!"
Gray Shadow saw him too. He raised his head, swallowed the big fish whole, and flew over happily.
Plop!
A giant dragon hit His Royal Highness, knocking him to the ground.
Aemon's eyes twitched in pain. He held the young dragon in his arms and said helplessly, "It seems you've grown a bit."
Now that he mentioned it, it seemed true.
Gray Shadow was only six meters long and still looked like a little guy.
Aemon looked at him now and saw that his porcelain white horns had grown longer, and his tail was thicker.
Its body length was actually about eight meters.
"Hiss, hiss."
Gray Shadow licked Aemon, rubbing his dragon head against His Royal Highness. His royal blue, vertical pupils were full of expectation.
Aemon pondered this and said, "It's the effect of the blood source fruit."
Only the secret treasure fruit provided by the panel can make a young dragon grow two meters in a month.
Perhaps the blood source fruit is more effective because of the young dragon.
But that fruit is also rare and precious.
Gray Shadow continued to flatter, hugging His Royal Highness with his mist-like wing membrane, acting like a spoiled dog.
"Okay, stop it."
Aemon was pushed back constantly by it and lightly slapped the dragon's head.
Under Johanna's surprised but inconspicuous gaze,
He silently brought up the card panel.
White mist and three unturned cards.
Aemon's mind moved, and the three cards were turned over:
One was white, one green, and one blue.
The third blue card was slightly more useful:
[Bronze Shield]: "Inscribed with the runes of the ancestors, it is said to have magical blessings that cannot be damaged."
Price: 250 essence points.
Bo~
Aemon poked it and exchanged it directly.
He liked bronze artifacts and collected them.
"Unfortunately, blood fruit is difficult to obtain."
Aemon touched the dragon-headed dog and considered giving Vermithor some compensation.
"I can't always get it for free, right?"
Even if Balerion is resurrected today, he still has to work two acres of land for me."
---------------
You can read +100 advance chapters on my Patreon
Patreon(.)com/izan24
•TIER 1 you'll get +15 ADVANCE CHAPTERS
•TIER 2 you'll get +40 ADVANCE CHAPTERS
•TIER 3 you'll get +60 ADVANCE CHAPTERS
•TIER 4 you'll get +100 ADVANCE CHAPTERS