"Ahem—so, Lord Karl… what does your family crest look like?"
The question came from Tob Mott, who had been quietly observing from the side. His tone was polite, but there was urgency behind it.
He had already realized something important.
This young duke—Karl—was about to place an enormous order.
And in a business like his, opportunities like this didn't come often.
So when Tyrion Lannister began trying to persuade Karl to reconsider his spending, Tob Mott immediately stepped in, positioning himself between the two men.
He wasn't about to let a deal of this scale slip away.
"Your family crest, my lord?" he repeated, quickly steering the conversation back on track.
Karl didn't seem bothered by the interruption. Instead, he paused, thinking for a moment.
"…It's a bit hard to explain."
Then he waved his hand casually.
"Bring me some paper. I'll draw it."
Tob Mott reacted instantly, snapping his fingers toward a nearby servant.
"Quickly!"
His eagerness was obvious.
Within moments, paper and charcoal were brought forward. Such materials were always readily available in a craftsman's workshop.
Karl accepted them and began sketching without hesitation.
Naturally, this attracted attention.
Tyrion, along with Samwell Tarly and several others, gathered closer, curiosity written across their faces.
Tob Mott had initially expected something crude—perhaps a rough outline or symbolic marks.
After all, Karl had introduced himself as a mercenary.
But to his surprise…
Karl's hand moved with surprising confidence.
The lines were steady.
Deliberate.
Even… artistic.
"This man…" Tob Mott thought, slightly stunned. "He's not as simple as he looks."
However, as the drawing took shape, confusion spread among the onlookers.
"What… is this supposed to be?" Tyrion asked, tilting his head.
He leaned closer, studying the design carefully.
The shape resembled a diamond.
Inside it, a winding, almost serpentine line cut through the center.
"It looks like… a gem?" Tyrion continued. "And this line… is that a river?"
Karl nodded with a faint smile.
"Yes. That's exactly what it is."
Tyrion raised an eyebrow.
"A gem… and a river?"
"And this is your family crest?"
He crossed his arms, clearly intrigued.
"What does it represent?"
For a brief moment, Karl froze.
Then, slowly, he glanced down at his drawing.
What stared back at him…
Was unmistakable.
The symbol he had drawn—though slightly altered—was essentially the iconic Superman emblem.
A diamond-shaped frame.
With an S-like curve running through it.
Karl scratched his head awkwardly.
"…Right."
Time to improvise.
"Well," he began smoothly, "my life has always been tied to rivers."
The others listened attentively.
"When King Robert Baratheon rose in rebellion against the Targaryens, his victory came at the Trident—where Prince Rhaegar's ruby armor shattered into the river."
Karl gestured toward the drawn line.
"That moment… shaped the realm."
He paused briefly, then continued.
"And as for me—my own rise has followed a similar path."
"From Riverrun, along the Green Fork… through the Red Fork… and finally to the Blackwater Rush in King's Landing."
His voice grew more confident as he spoke.
"It feels as though my fate… my bloodline… my achievements… are all connected to rivers."
He tapped the paper lightly.
"So I chose this as my family crest."
The explanation flowed naturally.
Convincingly.
Too convincingly.
Tyrion studied the drawing again.
"…I see."
And indeed—it made sense.
The symbolism aligned.
The narrative fit.
But in truth…
Karl himself knew the real reason.
Originally, he had spent an entire night designing a completely different crest.
A golden antler crown.
With a sword rising through its center.
It had looked powerful.
Majestic.
Fitting for someone of his rising status.
But…
Too flashy.
Too provocative.
In a world like this, such a design could easily attract unwanted attention—or suspicion.
So, at the last moment…
He changed it.
To something simpler.
Cleaner.
And—if one looked closely—
Something that carried a strange, almost subconscious sense of invincibility.
"A god among men…" Karl thought, glancing at the emblem.
The more he looked at it, the more satisfied he became.
After all…
Compared to the real Superman, what was he lacking?
Flight?
Heat vision?
Perhaps.
But he had something else.
Magic.
And in this world…
That might be even more powerful.
Karl's Hidden Ambitions
As the others discussed the crest, Karl's thoughts drifted elsewhere.
To the game world.
To the possibilities it held.
"If I can bring creatures into this world…"
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"…then everything changes."
That world contained countless beings.
Elves.
Demons.
Giants.
Vampires.
Even dragons.
If he could summon them…
Not just the Others.
Even the so-called gods…
He might be able to challenge them.
But there was a problem.
Every time he entered that world, it functioned like a save file.
Time froze when he left.
Nothing could truly be carried over—except items stored in his inventory.
"…Unless I find another method."
Magic.
Perhaps that was the key.
"If objects can be transferred… then living beings should be possible too."
His thoughts sharpened.
"…I need to test it."
But not yet.
First—
The upcoming martial games.
After that…
He would experiment.
And if possible—
He would start with dragons.
Finalizing the Crest
Meanwhile, Tyrion had finished analyzing the design.
"…It's well thought out," he admitted.
"Unusual—but effective."
He glanced at Karl.
"What about the colors?"
Karl stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"Red… on a black background."
"Gold outlines for the gem and the river."
Tyrion nodded slowly.
"Black, red, and gold."
Then, suddenly, his expression shifted.
"…Wait."
He looked at Karl carefully.
"Gold is fine. Houses like Baratheon and Lannister already use it."
"But black and red?"
His voice lowered slightly.
"Aren't you worried King Robert might… misunderstand?"
The implication was clear.
Those colors…
Carried dangerous associations.
Karl smiled calmly.
"Don't forget," he said, "I'm also known as 'Bloodwind' Karl."
"Red represents my achievements."
As for black—
He said nothing.
There was no need.
Tyrion, ever perceptive, quickly filled in the gap.
"Your hair is black," he said. "And House Baratheon's sigil also uses black."
"So it fits."
Karl simply nodded.
Then Tyrion turned to the others, summarizing:
"The gem and river represent his origins, his bloodline, and his rise."
"The colors reinforce that meaning."
He stroked his chin, impressed.
"A unique and… surprisingly elegant design."
Karl blinked.
He hadn't thought that deeply about it.
But now that it was explained…
"…It actually makes perfect sense."
Black.
His lineage—Baratheon… and perhaps something more.
Red.
His battles. His victories.
Gold.
Power. Wealth. Territory.
The accidental design…
Had become perfect.
A Lucrative Deal
Karl pushed the paper toward Tob Mott.
"Make my armor and weapons according to my earlier specifications."
"As for the crest—add it to my cloak, and prepare additional emblems and banners."
He paused briefly.
"For the emblems—use three materials."
"Iron plated with nickel."
"Red copper."
"And gold."
Tob Mott's eyes widened.
Karl continued casually:
"My personal emblem… should be gold, with inlaid rubies."
"…That will be all."
For a moment—
Silence.
Then Tob Mott broke into a wide grin.
This single order…
Was worth more than dozens of noble commissions.
The materials alone—
Were astronomical.
And yet…
No one doubted Karl's ability to pay.
Not after seeing the handful of flawless rubies he had casually produced earlier.
Of course—
They didn't know the truth.
In Karl's eyes…
Gold and gems were no different from dirt.
But valyrian steel?
That was rare.
Even for him.
Valyrian Steel
Karl suddenly looked at Tob Mott again.
"I've heard… you can work with valyrian steel?"
Tob Mott paused.
"…I can reforge it."
"I learned the techniques in Kohor."
"But forging it from scratch…"
He shook his head.
"…That is another matter."
Karl nodded thoughtfully.
"If I ever obtain some… I'll have you forge a blade for my house."
Tob Mott smiled.
"It would be my honor."
At that moment, Tyrion spoke again.
"…That won't be easy."
His gaze turned distant.
"My house once had such a blade."
"Brightroar."
"It was lost… in Valyria."
He sighed softly.
"My father tried for years to acquire another."
"Gold. Power. Influence…"
"None of it worked."
His voice grew heavier.
"Valyrian steel swords… are more than weapons."
"They are legacy."
"Honor."
"No house will sell that."
He looked at Karl.
"Unless you take it… by force."
Karl met his gaze calmly.
"…Starting a war for a sword would be meaningless."
He smiled faintly.
"There are always other ways."
Tyrion studied him for a moment.
Then nodded.
Satisfied.
This young duke…
Was not reckless.
Not arrogant.
And perhaps—
Not someone he would regret following.
A New Alliance
As they left the forge, Tyrion felt something unexpected.
Relief.
For a man like him—cast aside, underestimated—
Having someone like Karl treat him as an equal…
A friend…
That was rare.
Perhaps even…
An honor.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)