Year 4, Summer 28, Sunday, Sunny, 6:00 AM.
Daeron got up early and discovered something new on the farm.
On the independent island of the Meadow Farm layout, where his grandfather's grave used to be, a gnome hut had appeared.
"Apple, are you in there?"
Daeron knocked on the shell of the hut, but received no response.
After studying it for a while, he realized the gnome hut was like the type that automatically harvested crops; a bag hung by the hut's entrance.
Opening the bag, it seemed that items could be added inside.
"Should I put some raisins in?"
Daeron wanted to put in some raisins that the Junimo loved to eat, but considering the 10,000 gold cost for the dehydrator recipe, he ultimately gave up on the idea.
When a farmer earns 25,000 gold, special bats will move into the farm's abandoned cave.
At the same time, two choices are given.
Fruit bats that drop fruit, or mushroom bats whose droppings catalyze the growth of various mushrooms.
To speed up the offerings, veteran farmers prefer the fruit bat cave to get various fruits for free.
This meant there was no free dehydrator from a mushroom cave.
"Are the Dragon Eggs inside?"
Daeron reached in and found two Dragon Eggs inside the gnome hut, lying quietly buried in fluffy straw.
One was greenish-bronze, and the other was yellow.
They were exactly the two Dragon Eggs he had chosen.
Daeron was surprised: "I hope Shaena won't be frightened. When I return to King's Landing later, I'll say I took the Dragon Eggs away."
To be fair, the Junimo were extremely efficient.
They truly were the farmer's best partners.
In the following days, Daeron stayed in King's Landing, constantly monitoring the situation in the Seven Kingdoms.
The place with the most intense fighting was the Riverlands.
Led by Count Tywys, House Blackwood's combat strength was incredibly fierce, suppressing House Bracken throughout the entire conflict.
House Darry and House Whent were not far behind, fighting all around the Gods Eye area, laying a solid foundation for the Royalists army.
House Lannister, meanwhile, deployed another five thousand troops, bringing their total strength to ten thousand.
However, they did not take the initiative to attack, only stationing themselves outside Casterly Rock.
They maintained a wait-and-see attitude, not prepared to enter the fray immediately.
"According to the intelligence, Lord Robert has organized the Stormlands coalition and has already set out for Fawnton."
Maester Aemon wore a pair of reading glasses as he read the new reports.
They were a pair of broken glasses Daeron had fished up, which Maester Harvey had repaired and assembled into a brand new pair.
"What a fine thing, I like them very much."
Maester Aemon touched the temples of the reading glasses, showing a happy smile like a child who had received a new toy.
"I'm glad you like them."
Daeron sat opposite him to discuss business: "Lord Tywin has arrived at Tumbleton, and The Reach coalition led by Duke Mace is about to arrive at Ashford. The situation is progressing steadily."
Maester Aemon shook his head, not thinking highly of Tywin.
His evaluation of Tywin was roughly 'a capable minister in times of peace, a treacherous hero in times of chaos'.
"Tywin is quite capable and has the air of a formidable leader, but he is too selfish—even more so than Otto Hightower during the Dance of the Dragons. It was a mistake for your father to choose him as Hand from the very beginning."
Maester Aemon took off his glasses and wiped the lenses, which weren't even dirty.
Perhaps only in a blurred world could he speak such clear-headed words.
Daeron reflected, realizing his great-great-uncle was reminding him not to marry Cersei.
If he married Cersei, Tywin would become a second Otto Hightower.
"Great-great-uncle, do you think Rhaegar will marry Lyanna?"
Daeron asked indirectly.
Maester Aemon was taken aback, then gave a bitter smile: "Is Shaena no longer enough to satisfy you?"
The old man was very clever and immediately understood that Daeron intended to use Rhaegar as a shield.
"Nothing escapes you."
Daeron adopted the respectful attitude of a junior to an elder, took the other's hand, and smiled: "I want to restore the family's tradition of polygamy and expand our bloodline as much as possible."
In truth, he hadn't even decided how many children to have; too many children were just a burden.
But a tradition is something you might not use, but you must have.
Maester Aemon pondered for a moment and said, "If you truly have this intention, Rhaegar can indeed take the brunt for you. However, the Faith may see it as a provocation, and many noble lords will also object."
The Faith and the House Targaryen had a cooperative relationship.
When 'The Old King' Jaehaerys took over the Seven Kingdoms while they were in a state of ruin, the first thing he did was negotiate with the High Septon of the Faith and establish the 'Doctrine of Exceptionalism.'
This meant that the Targaryens retained their tradition of internal marriage, but had to abolish the tradition of polygamy.
In exchange, the Faith abolished all its armed forces and sent missionaries across Westeros to preach for the House Targaryen, stating that internal marriage was legal, reasonable, and permitted by the Seven.
The Faith, having lost its armed forces, would then be protected by the House Targaryen.
On the surface, it still appeared to be the system of divine right of kings.
But the brilliance of 'The Old King' Jaehaerys lay in leaving this facade while dismantling the Faith's foundation, turning the Faith into a subordinate of the royal family.
Because the Faith lost its armed forces, it relied on the protection of the crown.
This was why for so many years, the Faith had remained obedient and unable to cause trouble.
It wouldn't be until over a decade later, when a certain queen who flipped the table restored the Faith's armed forces, that the Faith was allowed to bring about its own doom.
"Only the Faith?"
Daeron's eyes lit up; he was not afraid of the Faith.
Maester Aemon nodded and offered his profound insight: "The Seven are a product used to stupefy the commoners. The Faith uses the false love of the Seven to let the commoners, whose lives are precarious, feel a sense of false love, binding them tightly."
"That same faith doesn't necessarily have much of an effect on those great nobles."
"Rest assured, I will be better to the commoners."
Daeron squeezed his hand, understanding that the other was instilling in him the governing philosophy of his great-grandfather, Aegon V.
Life for the commoners of Westeros was truly not great.
The average lifespan was between 35 and 40 years, with many dying early due to various diseases and accidents.
The reason the Faith of the Seven spread so widely was largely because commoners had no other spiritual pillar besides their belief in the Seven.
For example:
If you were born into a commoner's family, it would be a bit better in The Reach or the Riverlands, but if it were Dorne or the North, it would be a disastrous start.
And on the land where you lived, if the lord was a kind and generous person, he might leave enough winter rations for a family after a year of labor.
But if you encountered a greedy lord, various taxes would skin you layer by layer, driving the poor to their deaths.
If you caught a cold or fever, were bitten by a snake, or broke a leg falling while cutting wood on a mountain, you were basically waiting to die.
By the time you reached the age of 16, your parents and siblings might have all passed away.
In such a situation, you could feel no love, and there was no spiritual pillar for support.
Aside from living in a daze until the day you died from the hardships of life,
you could only believe in the Seven to seek a bit of peace of mind.
Maester Aemon's eyes reddened, his voice choking: "Aegon was a good boy. He fought his whole life to improve the living environment of the commoners, but he had no dragons, so he could do nothing."
Daeron remained silent, not knowing how to comfort him.
"Child, you must remember, your great-grandfather was driven to his death."
Maester Aemon's eyes suddenly became sharp, and he gripped Daeron's hand tightly: "He desired dragons too much, which is why he turned to desperate measures in his desperation, leading to the tragedy at Summerhall."
"When you ascend the Iron Throne and change the relationship between the royal family, the nobility, and the commoners, remember not to show mercy. Those nobles have sat atop the House Targaryen and the commoners, sucking their blood for too long."
"Great-great-uncle?"
Daeron was astonished, truly taken aback.
He hadn't expected that the seemingly kind and amiable Maester Aemon was actually a radical even more pure than himself.
"Do not be afraid, child."
Maester Aemon regained his usual calm and said placidly, "If you didn't have dragons, I wouldn't say these things to you. But since you have dragons, the Targaryens are once again a family of Dragonlords. We have the confidence to do this."
Daeron was stunned for a moment, then suddenly broke into a smile.
Indeed, a Targaryen without a mad side could only be said to have impure dragon blood.
Targaryens should be like this.
Tumbleton.
Tywin led his army to station within the town, yet he forcibly requisitioned grain and fodder from Fudley Family of Tumbleton.
Lord Fudley, cautious by nature, asked, "My Lord, Tumbleton is willing to cooperate with you in suppressing the rebels, but how much grain and fodder does your army require?"
"I have an army of five thousand, eighteen hundred pikemen, and two thousand reserves."
Tywin was very good at calculations and finally said, "To ensure the army's needs, you must provide 300,000 pounds of rye, 100,000 pounds of barley, and 50,000 pounds each of wheat and black beans."
Hearing this astronomical figure, Lord Fudley's face turned green.
Even if a soldier ate an average of two pounds of grain a day, a nine-thousand-man army would only consume 18,000 pounds a day, and only 540,000 pounds a month.
With one opening of his mouth, Tywin wanted Fudley Family to cough up a month's worth of military rations.
Moreover, aside from the cheapest rye, barley and wheat were not cheap, and black beans, used for cooking, shouldn't even appear in military rations.
He was being treated completely as a sucker.
"My Lord, I'm afraid I cannot comply."
Lord Fudley calculated the accounts and refused directly.
Tywin remained expressionless and asked, "How much can you provide?"
"At most 100,000 pounds of rye, five thousand pounds each of barley and wheat, and one thousand pounds of black beans."
Lord Fudley gritted his teeth, prepared to bargain.
The situation was forced; the army had already entered the town, and he didn't dare to give nothing at all.
To his surprise, Tywin agreed immediately: "Fine, then that's what it shall be."
Lord Fudley was just about to breathe a sigh of relief.
Tywin followed up by saying, "However, it is inevitable that some will violate military discipline when the army enters the town. You must know your place and not take matters into your own hands."
These words were a blatant threat.
Lord Fudley was utterly helpless and could only head home in a daze, notifying his family members not to go out.
"Doesn't know what's good for him."
Tywin snorted coldly, summoned a Lannister soldier, and whispered some instructions.
He was deliberately targeting Fudley Family.
When they arrived at Tumbleton, Lord Fudley had seen the Targaryen and Lannister banners but actually refused to open the gates, suggesting suspicion of joining the rebels.
He couldn't blame Tywin for being ruthless then.
Southern Kingswood.
A large Stormlands army stretched out like a long dragon, carrying the stag banners of the House Baratheon as they grandly approached Fawnton.
Robert wore his armor, his face handsome and majestic; he was currently riding a three-meter-tall Great-horned Elk at the very front of the army.
With such a domineering and heroic posture alone, he was deeply loved by the Stormlands nobility.
"My Lord, Fawnton is just ahead."
.
Ralph Buckler rode his warhorse beside Robert, only reaching as high as the Great-horned Elk's belly.
He was the Lord of Bronzegate and had actively responded to the House Baratheon's call.
Robert raised his warhammer, displaying extraordinary strength, and said heroically, "Lords, let us take Fawnton, smash Lord Cafferen's head, and then we head south to The Reach!"