The dilapidated little castle in White Stone Town, after a hasty but thorough cleaning, temporarily served as the command hub for Luke and the fief's managent.
The great hall had been converted into a provisional council chamber, with a long table brought from Blue Star placed in the center.
At this mont, the current core leadership of House Jaqenion was gathered around the table.
The atmosphere was solemn yet filled with drive.
Luke sat at the head of the table, posture relaxed but naturally commanding.
Behind him stood Emma and Annie.
After more than three months of comfortable living, abundant nutrition, Blue Star skincare products, and Luke's continuous "nourishnt," the two sisters had long shed the timidity and naivety they had shown when they first t.
They wore fitted long dresses, their eyebrows lightly penciled, lips a soft crimson. Their every movent naturally carried the refined grace of well-bred noble ladies. They quietly poured tea, refilled water, and took notes for their master, clearly indispensable assistants and the public face of Luke's inner circle.
On the left side of the long table sat Bronn, Syrio Forel, and Lucas in that order.
These three represented the fief's military strength.
Bronn still lounged with his usual carefree attitude, one leg crossed, but his eyes were sharp.
He was primarily responsible for managing and coordinating the three hundred rcenaries and handling certain "gray-area" affairs.
Syrio Forel sat ramrod straight, the elegance of a Braavosi water dancer etched into his bones, a calm smile on his face.
He currently held no specific post and served as Luke's personal bodyguard and elite enforcer. At the sa ti, Luke had appointed him as the fief's swordsmanship instructor to teach refined personal combat techniques.
Lucas appeared far more composed.
He was one of the standouts Luke had promoted from the original hundred recruits. Barely in his early twenties, he possessed a resolute character and strong learning ability.
He had accepted Luke's concepts of "discipline," "honor," and "family" more readily than anyone, and had excelled in formation training and internal managent, quietly becoming a role model for the new soldiers.
Most importantly, the look in his eyes when he gazed at Luke was filled with open reverence and loyalty—the kind of light that only appeared in those who had truly seen hope and a future.
Luke had appointed him "Provisional Captain of the Guard." In the future, the professionalized family guard that Bronn was unsuited to command would be led by officers like Lucas—n of proper background who had been systematically trained.
On the right side sat the representatives of the civil and technical officials: Steward Arthur, the "forr maester" Qyburn, and Master Craftsman Matthew.
Arthur needed no introduction; as Luke's chief steward, he oversaw almost all civil affairs, finance, and personnel allocation. The hardcover notebook and ballpoint pen in his hand were rarely out of reach.
Qyburn was a forr maester expelled by the Citadel.
Tall and thin, slightly hunched, with prominent blue eyes ringed by wrinkles, his gray-streaked hair neatly combed, he always wore a gentle, almost kindly smile—like a friendly neighborhood grandfather.
But Luke knew that beneath that benevolent exterior lay an almost fanatical thirst for forbidden knowledge and extre moral flexibility.
In the original story, he later served Cersei Lannister and created the terrifying "human bioweapon" known as the Mountain, Gregor Clegane. He was an all-around talent!
Luke had recruited him and given him a brand-new title: "Scientist" and "Chief Advisor."
Luke had made it clear that he disliked the Citadel's system of controlling thought and monopolizing knowledge. What he needed were "scientists" bold enough to explore, brave enough to experint, and able to provide practical technical support for the fief's developnt.
This title and new philosophy had ignited a long-dormant, almost pathological spark of excitent deep in Qyburn's cloudy blue eyes.
Another talent whose eyes now held that special "light." Natives really were easy to recruit…
Matthew, fifty years old, was one of the most respected master craftsn in King's Landing. His family craft encompassed carpentry, masonry, and construction of all kinds.
Luke had used heavy gold and the lure of "unprecedented building concepts and techniques" to "kidnap" his entire family and appoint him as "Minister of Works," overseeing all construction projects in the fief.
The eting began with Bronn's report.
"My lord," Bronn cleared his throat. "We still have two hundred and ninety rcenaries who ca with us. A few small groups are planning to collect their final pay and head back to King's Landing for so fun. But more of them are asking whether you still have work for them here."
He grinned, showing a mouthful of yellow teeth. "No rcenary turns down a job from the 'magic rchant.' The gold dragons you pay are just… too fucking many."
Luke nodded calmly. "Those who want to leave, settle their final pay and part on good terms. Those who wish to stay are welco. The Jaqenion family guards still need ti to grow. For now, the fief's security will continue to rely on them. Arthur—"
He turned to Steward Arthur.
"In the camp planning, set aside a separate area and build a rcenary camp sized for five hundred n. Also, send a raven to Aurora in King's Landing. Have her use her channels to post a new contract and recruit another three hundred experienced, reasonably reputable rcenaries."
"Yes, my lord." Arthur imdiately noted it down with his ballpoint pen.
Next ca Syrio's report.
The Braavosi swordsman gave a slight bow and spoke in his accented Common Tongue. "Lord Luke, I must be honest. The water-dancing style of Braavos emphasizes lightness, agility, and a single lethal strike. It is suited for tight spaces or personal duels.
"It… is not entirely suitable for the battlefields of Westeros. The Seven Kingdoms' knightly swordsmanship focuses more on strength, wide powerful strokes, and blocks and counters that work with plate armor. Teaching ordinary soldiers 'water dancing' may yield little result on the battlefield."
Luke nodded in understanding. "Syrio, I understand your concern. I have already hired several 'retired' old knights for the barracks to teach practical battlefield sword-and-shield techniques and spear work. Your task is not mass training of soldiers."
He paused, giving Syrio a aningful look.
"I want you to select a few promising candidates from the guard company—or even the migrants—who you believe have both talent and the right temperant, and teach them in a small, dedicated class. Water-dancing swordsmanship may not suit open battle, but it is irreplaceable for dealing with sudden assassinations, special reconnaissance missions, or… certain tasks that require secrecy."
A flash of understanding crossed Syrio's eyes. He had caught the subtext—training elite assassins or special operatives.
He nodded elegantly. "As you wish, my lord. I will keep an eye out for suitable candidates."
It was the newly appointed Guard Captain Lucas's turn.
The young man stood up a little nervously and gave Luke a crisp "Western Seas" military salute. "Honorable Baron! I will spare no effort to lead the family guard well and never betray your trust!"
Luke smiled encouragingly at him. "Lucas, I believe in you. Once the barracks are built, full physical and combat training will begin. I will give you a detailed training program then. For now, your main task is to assist Minister Matthew and lead your guard brothers in constructing the barracks and basic infrastructure. This is also part of training—learning the terrain, building fitness, and fostering teamwork."
"Yes!"
Lucas answered loudly, sat back down, and sat ramrod straight.
Luke was very pleased with this excellent attitude…
Next ca Arthur's report.
He opened his notebook and summarized clearly: "My lord, according to the latest count, excluding the family guard and rcenaries, we successfully brought one thousand six hundred and nine migrants from King's Landing. We lost forty-one along the way due to bandits, illness, old age, and other causes.
"The original residents of White Stone Town number five hundred and forty-three. In the past three days we conducted a preliminary census of villages within a fifty-li radius and found eighteen settlents of various sizes, averaging about two hundred people each. Statistics for farther areas are still incomplete. At present, the total population under our actual control and influence is approximately five thousand seven hundred and fifty-two."
The number drew visible reactions from everyone present.
In such a short ti they had gathered nearly six thousand people from nothing. That was already the scale of a minor noble's fief.
Luke was not surprised by the figure. He tapped the table lightly and said to Arthur, "Very good. But it is not enough. Arthur, next you will send people in a discreet but effective manner to the Crownlands, the Riverlands, and even the edges of the Vale to quietly recruit more migrants.
"Spread word of our conditions—free food and lodging, land to farm, wages… No matter who they are—farrs, artisans, even petty thieves who can no longer survive—as long as they are willing to co and behave themselves, I will accept them all."
A sharp light flashed in his eyes. "King's Landing is cramd with more than half a million people and is already overburdened. We are helping His Grace the King relieve the pressure. Use gold to smash open doors and hope to draw them in. First-phase recruitnt target: ten thousand people.
"At the sa ti, expansion of the guard must proceed in parallel. Before the end of this year, I want to see a well-trained Jaqenion family guard of one thousand n!"
"Understood, my lord!" Arthur took a deep breath, sensing his master's near-insatiable ambition for expansion, yet he was also filled with energy.
Population and military force were the cornerstones of a fief's growth.
It was Qyburn's turn.
The old "scientist" kept his kindly smile, but his gentle voice cut straight to the core issue. "My lord, there are quite a few cases of fever, coughing, and diarrhea in the camp and among the civilians. Aside from adjustnt to the new environnt and water, the main reason is… appalling sanitation. People and animals live together, waste is disposed of at random, drinking water is unclean. With so many people crowded together, this is a breeding ground for disease. If we do not control it, a major disaster may occur."
Luke nodded. This was exactly what he had feared.
He had prepared in advance. From beside his chair he picked up a stack of beautifully printed and neatly bound booklets and distributed them to everyone. The cover read: Personal and Public Health Guidelines (Trial Edition).
"Master Qyburn is correct. Sanitation is the first line of defense for health and a reflection of the fief's order and appearance."
Luke pointed at the booklet.
"It details personal hygiene habits, public environntal managent, drinking-water safety, waste disposal, simple prevention of infectious diseases, and more. I will provide 'magic water-purifying agents.' All drinking water must be treated with them…"
"Arthur, organize personnel to promote this to every migrant and local resident. Every household must understand the basic requirents."
He turned to the master craftsman.
"Matthew, focus on studying the diagrams and instructions for building 'septic tanks.' Once our brickworks is officially operational and produces the first batch of bricks, every new house and public latrine in the fief must include a septic tank! Existing settlents must also be gradually retrofitted."
Everyone opened the booklets and were imdiately stunned by the full-color illustrations, clear and neat text.
The print quality and layout far surpassed any book they had ever seen.
This was "paper," modern printing, color printing…
But soon Bronn, Lucas, and even Arthur showed puzzled expressions.
"No defecating or urinating anywhere? Not even in the wild?" Bronn scratched his head.
"Wash hands before eating and after using the toilet? Boil water before drinking? That's so troubleso…" Lucas muttered.
"Take frequent baths? What about winter?" Matthew frowned.
Only Qyburn, staring at the contents—especially the simple explanations of bacteria, viruses, transmission routes, and the structural diagrams of septic tanks and filtered wells—had eyes burning with intense excitent. He murmured, "Wonderful… truly wonderful! So filth spreads disease in this way! Isolation, purification… this is the fundantal solution! My lord, this booklet is worth a king's ransom!"
Luke waved his hand, too lazy to explain microbiology to the others, and simply declared, "This is an order, and it is for your own good. The reasons and benefits are written clearly in the booklet. If you cannot read, have soone literate read it to you. Just follow the instructions!"
"I do not want an epidemic breaking out in my fief. Matthew, start imdiately. Build twenty temporary public latrines first—strictly separated by gender! Build another ten public bathhouses, also separated by gender! Use wood and thatch for materials for now, but choose sites and drainage exactly according to the booklet."
"At the sa ti, send people out imdiately to survey locations suitable for a 'brickworks' and 'cent plant.' We need to locate clay, listone, gypsum… these raw materials as quickly as possible."
Matthew nodded hurriedly and noted every requirent.
Luke had already given Matthew and several key craftsn private lessons on the road, showing them videos on his tablet of modern brick kilns, simple cent production processes, and the use of three-part concrete (li, clay, sand or gravel).
The n had been dumbfounded but had grasped the basic direction.
Although Luke knew that fully replicating modern cent was unrealistic—after all, even many countries on Blue Star still struggled with it, so a transmigrator certainly could not—he could attempt low-tech versions similar to Roman cent or early Portland cent.
He understood clearly: to quickly build a magnificent city, stone construction was too slow and expensive. Brick was the relatively fast, cheap, and scalable option.
Even inferior cent substitutes would be the key to improving building strength, speed, and waterproofing.
As for the true "palace" core buildings in his dreams, those might have to rely on transporting modern materials from Blue Star—which would require even more ticulous planning.
After the eting ended, everyone received their orders and departed to carry them out.
Luke, accompanied by Emma and Annie, headed to the temporarily built granaries and warehouse district.
Looking at the nearly exhausted supplies brought from King's Landing, Luke knew it was ti to tap into the "reserves."
Late at night, when all was quiet, he dismissed everyone and entered the largest warehouse alone.
After locking the door and confirming no one was watching, he focused his mind and began moving supplies out of the "mysterious space."
Bags of flour and corn kernels marked in English or Chinese appeared out of thin air, neatly stacked and soon forming small mountains.
These were enough to feed five thousand people for an entire year. When grain ran low, he could simply bring more from Blue Star.
Grain was sothing that did not even need to be smuggled—he could buy it openly by the "ton"… buying by the ton was practically an insult to modern grain production!
Next ca the tools: bundles of modern steel axes, saws, machetes, sickles, hoes, shovels, hamrs… their edges gleaming coldly, far superior in quality and durability to anything produced in Westerosi smithies.
There were even a dozen gasoline-powered chainsaws!
Luke gathered Lucas and the core mbers of the guard and personally demonstrated how to use a chainsaw.
The buzzing steel monster that sliced effortlessly through thick tree trunks left the young n both terrified and exhilarated.
Under Luke's strict guidance and supervision, they quickly mastered the basics.
With these chainsaws, logging efficiency would increase dozens of tis, providing ample timber for houses, workshops, and walls.
The Jaqenion family guard soldiers, in addition to their daily patrols and training, threw themselves even more heavily into fief construction.
Wielding sharp modern tools under the craftsn's guidance, they felled trees, leveled ground, dug foundations… It was labor, but also another form of physical and disciplinary training.
The once barren southern shore of the God's Eye began to burst with vitality at an unprecedented speed and efficiency.
The sounds of chopping, ramming earth, work chants, and the roar of chainsaws wove together into a symphony of ambitious construction.
At the center of it all stood the young baron on the edge of the high ground, overlooking everything below.
In his hands he held not only the resources and hearts of this world, but also a flood of technology and supplies from another Westeros.
The wheel of Westerosi history would, because of the clamor at this lakeside construction site, turn sharply toward an unknown and turbulent future.
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