Over the next few days, Suleiman spent all his time in the muddy, wall-less courtyard, which was supposedly the castle courtyard, familiarizing himself with and exploring the miraculous changes in his body.
Martial prowess is the primary necessary ability for survival in Westeros, as this world is rampant with demons and monsters, and relying solely on the martial strength of others will not allow one to survive the first stage of the Game of Thrones.
Every sword swing, every dodge, every step allowed him to feel that incredible lightness and coordination.
Suleiman filled cloth bags with mud and tied them to his legs and arms.
Yet, he could still move, turn, and jump quickly in the mud; the lightness, reaction, and speed of his body were so fluid, far exceeding his understanding.
He felt as if he were an elite brother in light armor, with maxed-out lightness, in a game he had played on Blue Star called "Battle Brothers."
A light-armored rapier would thrust and parry through enemy ranks.
This "dancing" style of swordplay, fluid and beautiful, was Suleiman's most unique ability.
The keenness of his five senses allowed him to immediately detect Old Nick, who had arrived quietly.
"Nick, have the territory's affairs been sorted out?" Suleiman turned and sheathed his sword at his waist.
Old Nick, hunched over, tremblingly handed over a sheet of paper covered in writing, his face bearing a complex expression that was difficult to articulate.
"Lord Suleiman, everything has been tallied. Please take a look."
Suleiman took the parchment, scanned it roughly, and then his eyes widened abruptly. The paper contained some numbers, but the core content made him feel a wave of dizziness.
Suleiman looked at the two lines: "Granary: only enough for four people for seven days" and "Treasury: empty," feeling a chilling coldness shoot from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.
He had thought that no matter how little, there would always be some left, right? At least enough to last for a while, so as not to immediately fall into despair.
"What is going on?!" Suleiman's voice trembled with disbelief, and his cheeks twitched wildly.
Old Nick's head drooped even lower, his voice filled with deep helplessness and a faint sigh: "Lord, have you forgotten?"
After a moment of silence, he continued:
"That day, you told this old servant to distribute all the grain in the granary, portion by portion, to the families of the farmers who died in battle with the Old Lord in Seagard, and all the money in the treasury was also distributed as pensions, household by household."
Suleiman was stunned. He remembered.
The grief of that day and his sympathy for the Hark family of farmers had led him to make that decision.
To use the family's remaining resources to compensate the families who had lost their pillars of support due to being conscripted by the family for war.
To help them at least survive the next few months until the next harvest.
"Although this old servant did not understand, it was your command, and this old servant has carried it out completely, distributing everything as you instructed," Old Nick said in a low voice.
He was the butler of this family, dedicating his life to serving the House Droppings, although he completely did not understand why money should be distributed to the common folk.
Other Westeros lords were already considered great philanthropists if they did not seize the common folk's food during times of war and famine.
Yet, his Lord Suleiman generously distributed grain to the common folk.
But his loyalty to the House Droppings was ingrained in his bones. No matter how confused or difficult to accept, as long as it was his Lord's command, he would carry it out without hesitation. Only Lord Suleiman was left of the House Droppings; Lord Suleiman was the head of the House Droppings.
He had served the House Droppings for generations; serving the House Droppings and being loyal to the House Droppings was the entire meaning of his life.
Suleiman closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had not expected that his "benevolent" act would directly plunge the family into bankruptcy.
His decision at the time was to win people's hearts.
Now, he himself had become the "fool" who had given away all the family's assets.
"Now, there aren't even any mice in the granary." Suleiman gave a bitter smile; this sentence written on the paper was so desolate.
The only consolation was that those families at least temporarily had hope of survival.
His kindness might have sown a seed in the hearts of the common folk and the surviving farmers and families of the fallen. But at this moment, it was useless.
He now had to solve his own problems. Droppings would soon run out of food; staying at home meant waiting for death.
Now, he could only hope that his lord would also be generous to him.
"Nick," Suleiman's voice regained its composure, "I must go to Deddings Keep immediately."
"Go now? But Lord Balon Daddings is still defending against the Ironborn," Old Nick asked, raising his head in surprise.
"Yes, to pay respects to Lady Deddings," Suleiman continued to explain, "I must leave before the castle runs out of food. Moreover, I need to explain the family's predicament to the Lady and ask for her assistance."
More importantly, he needed to "scrounge for food and drink" in Deddings Keep, at least so he wouldn't starve to death in his own tower.
"Then, what about Droppings?" Old Nick asked worriedly.
"You stay," Suleiman looked at the Old Butler, "I trust you! You are responsible for guarding the castle and looking after the remaining common folk. I will deal with the matters in Deddings Keep as quickly as possible and then bring back food."
Old Nick, tears filling his eyes at the young lord's sudden declaration, nodded heavily. Although he was uneasy about Suleiman going alone, he also knew this was the only way for now.
By staying here, he could still try his best to maintain this crumbling territory.
"Small nobles like us don't have maesters," Suleiman sighed. Maesters in the world of A Song of Ice and Fire held high status, and only great nobles were qualified to support them.
Small nobles like them, who were so poor they ate grass, couldn't even dream of it. Fortunately, the Old Butler had a lifetime of management experience and could govern on his behalf.
"I'll take Simon and Lenn with me," Suleiman said.
"Yes, Lord Suleiman," Old Nick replied.
Although as a lord, Suleiman did not need to seek the opinions of his two guards and could simply command them.
But he felt he should inform them, to give them some mental preparation. He called Simon and Lenn to the humble "study."
When Simon and Lenn entered, they appeared somewhat restrained and uneasy. They stood respectfully before Suleiman.
Suleiman looked at them; in these days, they had diligently and faithfully guarded the tower, and their loyalty and earnestness were evident.
"I have decided to go to Deddings Keep to pay respects to Lady Deddings," Suleiman said directly, "I will take both of you with me."
The two did not hesitate for a moment, immediately nodding: "Yes, Lord Suleiman!"
Suleiman paused, then continued: "This trip to Deddings Keep has a more practical reason: Droppings's granary is empty, and it cannot feed the three of us anymore."
He spoke frankly, not feeling it was shameful for a lord to admit poverty to his guards.
Simon and Lenn exchanged glances. Although they were mentally prepared, hearing it from their lord's own mouth still shocked them somewhat.
"Moreover," Suleiman's tone became serious, "the rebellion in the Iron Islands is still ongoing. Although everyone says the King's army will arrive soon, if we go to Deddings Keep, we might once again be conscripted by Lord Daddings to Seagard, joining the front line of the bloody battlefield defending against the Ironborn."
When Suleiman mentioned "the front line of the bloody battlefield," Simon and Lenn's bodies trembled violently.
The tragic scene of that day's interception of the Ironborn landing was still vividly imprinted in their minds.
They had witnessed death firsthand, the brutality of the Ironborn, and personally experienced that terror, which was still too cruel for farmers like them.
Now, their concept of going to battle was to go to their deaths.
However, they did not shrink back.
They recalled that on that muddy beach, this lord was found among the scattered corpses.
It was this lord who, upon waking, did not punish them for their sin of misreporting his death.
It was this lord who used all that remained of the family to comfort those families who had lost loved ones.
And it was this lord who gave them, humble farmers, a purpose as his loyal guards.
Simon and Lenn fell to their knees with a thud, their faces streaked with tears, their voices choked yet firm.
"Lord Suleiman! We swear to follow you to our deaths! It is our honor to die with Lord Suleiman."
Simon also said tremblingly, "Our swords fight for you! It is our honor to once again follow Lord Suleiman to the battlefield to die!"
What's going on? Why are they talking about dying? Suleiman's cheeks twitched. What were they saying!
"We, we failed Old Lord's trust last time."
Lenn also cried, "This time, this time we will definitely protect Lord to our deaths! We will die on the battlefield, never retreating! To die for Lord Suleiman, we, we are willing to die!"
Simon echoed: "Yes, to die on the battlefield, never retreating, to die for Lord Suleiman, we are willing."
They knew this lord was different. He had forgiven their sins, given them new identities, and even spent all his family's wealth for his common folk's families.
They firmly believed that this lord would never mistreat anyone who fought for him and for the House Droppings.
They were ready to die, just to repay this kindness.
Suleiman looked at these two men kneeling on the ground, tear-streaked but with determined eyes. Although their words were harsh and jarring, a warm current still flowed through his heart.
These were the common folk of Westeros; perhaps they were humble and illiterate, but once they recognized someone, their loyalty could be so pure and profound.
He walked forward and helped them up: "Get up."
He looked at their still tear-stained faces and smiled, saying, "How could it be so easy to die in battle? Don't worry, follow me, it's not that easy to die."