Beside theErald River, the roar of machinery shattered a thousand years of silence.
This tributary of the Blackwater River, which connected to the God's Eye, had been nad "Erald River" by Luke.
At this mont, the river flowed swiftly, driving the massive water wheels along its banks.
In the Northern Industrial Zone, ten water mills stood along the river. Their giant wheels turned slowly under the force of the current, powering millstones that ground grain.
Nearby were twenty textile factories, also powered by water, operating day and night to produce cloth.
Technologies imported from Earth had taken root here.
The Southern Industrial Zone was a realm of steel.
Three blast furnaces stood tall, spewing flas and thick smoke around the clock.
Every day, five thousand pounds of steel were slted here, cast into ingots, and transported to various blacksmith shops.
Inside more than a dozen blacksmith workshops, furnaces blazed and hamrs rang.
The blacksmiths were forging a new type of farm tool — the curved-beam plow.
This plow was lighter and more efficient than Westeros's traditional heavy plows and could be operated by a single person.
Luke had compiled all the advanced agricultural knowledge from Earth — both ancient and modern — into a thick manual.
Crop rotation, composting, seed selection and breeding, water-powered machinery, curved-beam plows… all kinds of advanced farming techniques had been written into The Jaqenion Essentials of Agriculture.
He had also established an "Agricultural Departnt" specifically responsible for promoting these new technologies.
In a small valley further south, heavily guarded by soldiers.
This was Luke's "Wildfire Production and Experint Base."
Two hundred Unsullied were permanently stationed here, patrolling day and night to ensure no unauthorized person could approach.
Inside the valley, more than a hundred "pyromancers" were hard at work.
They had all been recruited — or rather, headhunted — from King's Landing at high salaries.
These forr servants of the Alchemists' Guild now worked exclusively for House Jaqenion.
Every day, this place could produce one hundred jars of "wildfire."
At this mont, more than three thousand jars of wildfire were already stored in Luke's personal space.
Most of this wildfire ca from the "Mad King's legacy" in King's Landing.
King Aerys II had been obsessed with wildfire and loved burning people alive. At the end of Robert's Rebellion, he had ordered the Alchemists' Guild to produce thousands of jars of wildfire and bury them throughout the city… beneath the Great Sept of Baelor, in the slums of Flea Bottom, in stables and warehouses, at the seven city gates, in the Dragonpit, and even in the Red Keep's cellars.
He had planned to ignite the wildfire when the city fell, blowing up King's Landing and the invaders together.
Jai Lannister had killed the pyromancer Rossart after learning of this plan, then stabbed the Mad King on the Iron Throne, earning the na "Kingslayer."
Luke had stayed in King's Landing long enough to set his sights on that wildfire.
In his eyes, wildfire was a true "weapon of mass destruction," comparable to dragons. How could he possibly let it go?
Except for the batch in the Red Keep's cellars, he had emptied every other hiding place.
He deliberately left the wildfire in the Red Keep's cellars.
It might co in useful later — perhaps to burn Stannis's fleet as in the original story, or to send all the nobles of King's Landing to the heavens.
At this mont, an important experint was underway at the wildfire base.
Maester Coben and Maester Vaelin stood before a massive machine.
The two old n wore white robes and glasses, looking exactly like researchers from Earth.
The machine was cast from steel, complex in structure, with pipes crisscrossing everywhere.
At its core was a huge cylinder connected to valves and pipes above.
A steam engine.
The first steam engine in Westeros.
Luke had provided the principles and blueprints, but the actual construction of the device relied entirely on local "engineers" and "scientists."
From raw material mining to forging and polishing, from parts processing to final assembly, Luke had provided no modern support.
It had all been done by Westerosi craftsn through trial and error.
The device had cost thirty thousand gold dragons and mobilized over a thousand people.
After several months, it was finally complete.
Coben walked up to Luke and reported respectfully, "My lord, the steam engine has been fully tested and is ready for ignition. Please give the order."
Luke nodded and walked over to examine the massive machine.
He suddenly thought of a question.
"How did you solve the wildfire combustion chamber problem? Won't it explode?"
Coben and the others had previously been stuck on the wildfire combustion chamber — wildfire burned everything, even lting tal. That issue had stalled the experints.
Coben explained, "Rest assured, my lord. We built the combustion chamber using 'dragon glass.' Dragon glass cannot be ignited or lted by wildfire. We have solved that problem and are now expanding research into 'dragon glass coating'…"
Luke's eyes brightened.
Dragon glass — obsidian.
That material was indeed heat-resistant, and in this world it was also a "magical substance." Wildfire was also magical. One countered the other perfectly!
"Begin."
Coben waved his hand. Several pyromancers stepped forward, carefully opened a jar of wildfire, and poured the green liquid into the combustion chamber.
Then they lit it.
Boom—
Strange green flas burned inside the chamber but did not burn through the black dragon glass inner walls.
The heat transferred to the boiler, and the water began to boil.
Steam flowed through the pipes, pushing the pistons.
The pistons drove the connecting rods, which drove the crankshaft.
Then the gears beside it began to turn slowly.
At first very slowly, almost imperceptibly.
Then faster and faster.
Clack clack clack…
The sound of the turning gears grew clearer.
The apprentices and pyromancers all wore expressions of ecstatic joy.
Not only because the successful experint ant they would all receive rewards from their lord.
More importantly, they had personally witnessed the dawn of a new era.
Luke stood before the machine, watching the spinning gears, and murmured:
"The end of technology is boiling water."
A young man in special attire beside him imdiately pulled out a notebook and pen, quickly recording the sentence.
This was the "Imperial Diarist," responsible for recording the "lord's" words and actions to compile The Lord's Daily Records.
From today onward, Westeros would leap directly into the "Steam Age" and "Electrical Age."
Luke turned to Coben and said:
"Next, research 'steam cars' and 'steamships.' Also… 'steam generators.'"
Coben's eyes shone brightly as he nodded repeatedly.
He had been expelled from the Citadel for researching "forbidden knowledge."
Now, under Luke, he could pursue his research freely with unlimited funding and resources.
This was the life he had always dread of.
Luke suddenly rembered sothing else.
He had discovered several "coal mines" near the God's Eye and in the Riverlands.
This was extrely valuable — not only for solving winter heating, but also for launching a true "Steam Revolution."
Unfortunately, he had not found petroleum near the God's Eye or in the Riverlands.
He had, however, found large amounts of raw materials for producing wildfire. He nad that mineral "wildfire ore."
His mind raced. Was there no petroleum in this world? Did wildfire replace it?
But without petroleum, how could he build internal combustion engines?
He had heard that there were flammable black liquids in Essos and Dorne. It seed he would need to go see for himself.
After leaving the wildfire base, Luke went to inspect another location.
The bicycle production factory.
Located east of Draco, the factory covered a sizable area and had three production lines!
The first line produced "shared bicycles" — though not actually called that. They followed the sa design as Earth's shared bikes. These were road bicycles — light and fast, suitable for single riders.
The second line produced the classic "Forever" style bikes — the iconic heavy-duty bicycles popular in Longguo during the 1970s and 80s. They were sturdy cargo bikes capable of carrying heavy loads.
The third line produced tricycles — three wheels, with space for passengers in front and cargo in the back. Stable and practical.
The equipnt had been brought directly from Earth. Tires, chains, bearings, and other key components were also imported as finished products.
Westeros simply could not produce them yet… the prerequisite technologies were far too advanced, and Luke could not find rubber.
Currently, the local factory could only produce the fras and handle final assembly.
Output was not high.
They could produce three shared bicycles, three heavy-duty bikes, and one tricycle per day.
But it was enough.
Looking at the bicycles being assembled, a scene suddenly flashed in Luke's mind.
A group of dark-skinned, muscular n riding heavily loaded bicycles, speeding down rugged mountain roads.
A famous scene from a distant country on Earth.
"Ode to the Banana Carriers."
The corners of Luke's mouth curved into a smile. He was forming a "logistics guild" that would need many couriers and deliveryn…
Let Westeros's "Ode to the Banana" riders speed along Jaqenion Avenue on heavy-duty bikes, loaded with goods.
That scene would surely be beautiful.
King's Landing, Red Keep.
Moonlight poured through the tall windows of the Tower of the Hand, casting dappled shadows on the floor. Eddard Stark lay in bed, his leg wrapped in thick bandages, the wound still throbbing with pain.
Yesterday's clash had nearly cost him his life.
The incident began when Tyrion Lannister, the Imp, had been captured by Catelyn.
When the news reached King's Landing, Jai Lannister flew into a rage. He confronted Eddard and demanded he imdiately write a letter ordering Catelyn to release the Imp.
Eddard refused.
He told Jai that he had known nothing of Catelyn's actions and would not interfere. If Tyrion was innocent, the truth would co out.
Jai would not listen.
Words turned to blows.
Eddard could have fought Jai evenly, but Jai's guards attacked without warning… a spear pierced his leg.
Attacking the Hand of the King was a grave cri.
Especially since Eddard Stark was King Robert's sworn brother.
Jai knew he had caused a disaster and fled King's Landing that very night, returning to the Westerlands.
It was essentially fleeing to avoid punishnt.
When Robert learned of it, he flew into a towering rage. He cursed the Lannisters, cursed Queen Cersei, and cursed Eddard.
The King stood by Eddard's bed, barely containing his anger. "If you don't want war to break out again, write a letter imdiately ordering Catelyn to release that damned Imp!"
Eddard said nothing.
Robert turned and left, leaving him alone in bed.
His heart was exhausted.
He truly was not suited to be Hand.
Yet he could not bear to leave his good brother to face the ss of the Iron Throne alone.
Hundreds of thousands of gold dragons in debt, Targaryen restoration across the Narrow Sea, the Lannisters dominating King's Landing, Westerlands and Dorne on the brink of war…
After the King left, Eddard asked for a book.
It was The Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms, borrowed from Grand Maester Pycelle.
Written by Maester Malleon over a hundred years ago, it recorded the genealogies of the major houses.
The previous Hand, Jon Arryn, had loved flipping through this book, always muttering about "strong seed."
During this ti, Eddard had been investigating the true cause of the previous Hand's death.
After extensive inquiries, he had learned… Jon Arryn seed to have been investigating King Robert's bastards.
Today, he had been taken to see a blacksmith's apprentice.
It was a sturdy, black-haired, black-eyed youth of sixteen or seventeen, sweating as he hamred away in the forge. The brow, the features, the powerful build — he looked exactly like a young Robert.
Eddard's hand trembled as he opened the book and found the Baratheon section.
He read word by word:
"The founder of House Baratheon, Orys Baratheon, was black of hair. His son, black of hair. His grandson, black of hair… Generation after generation, the children of House Baratheon have all been black of hair, regardless of their mother's hair color."
"Robert Baratheon, black of hair."
"And Joffrey Baratheon…"
Golden hair.
Eddard felt as if he had been struck by lightning.
He understood.
Robert's three children were not his.
Because Baratheon blood always produced black hair and black eyes. No matter the mother's hair color, the children were always black-haired.
All of Robert's bastards were also black-haired… even when their mothers had hair of every color.
The previous Hand had indeed been murdered.
Because he had discovered this secret.
Eddard also recalled the servants' whispered gossip — Queen Cersei's incestuous affair with her brother Jai.
Could it be… that Joffrey and the other two bastards were the products of Cersei and Jai's incest?
Despite his injury, Eddard wanted to go to the King imdiately.
But the King had already gone hunting.
So he went to Cersei instead.
There were only the two of them in the room.
Eddard closed the door and looked straight into Cersei's eyes as he spoke the secret word by word.
"Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tomn are not Robert's children."
Cersei's body jerked violently.
Her eyes widened, and all color drained from her face.
Eddard continued, "Baratheon blood has always produced black hair and black eyes across generations. Your three children are all golden-haired. All of Robert's bastards are black-haired. Those children… are Jai's, aren't they?"
Cersei's breathing grew rapid.
Her mind spun quickly.
If the King learned this, she would have no good end. House Lannister would face destruction.
But Eddard's next words stunned her.
"While the King is still away, take your children and leave King's Landing," Eddard said. "Go far away and never return. I do not wish to see innocent children hard."
Cersei was silent for a mont.
Then she approached Eddard, her hand gently brushing his injured thigh.
"The realm needs a strong Hand," her voice was soft and seductive, carrying a subtle hint. "No one wants to restart the war. I especially do not."
Her hand slowly brushed across Eddard's face and through his hair.
"If friends can beco enemies, why can't enemies beco friends? Your lady wife is a thousand miles away, my brother Jai is not in the city, and the King has gone hunting…"
She leaned close to Eddard's ear, her breath warm and fragrant.
"Eddard, be good to . I swear you will never regret it."
Eddard looked at her with an expressionless face.
Then he pushed her hand away and turned to leave.
Eddard Stark — a man who valued honor above all — how could he possibly sleep with his brother's wife?
Cersei had thought too much. Did she really believe that cheap seduction would work on an old soldier like Eddard?
She was destined to fail!
Watching Eddard Stark's resolute back, Cersei's gaze turned venomous and twisted.
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