While Draco City continued its rapid construction, Luke's gaze had never left the wider lands.
On the south shore of the God's Eye, vast plains were being opened up.
Luke had planned six entire "satellite towns." Each was designed to house five thousand people.
Their sole mission: reclaim farmland and grow grain.
These satellite towns were, in effect, Draco's future suburbs.
According to Luke's long-term blueprint, they might one day beco districts or counties of Draco.
But that was for the future. Right now the priority was simple: get the land planted.
The soil on the south shore of the God's Eye was fertile, the water abundant, and the climate mild.
As long as people worked it, endless harvests would follow.
And labor was exactly what this place did not lack.
Every day, countless people poured toward the south shore of the God's Eye from every corner of the Riverlands, from the Crownlands, and even from the Vale and the Westerlands.
Why? Because here they could survive.
In Draco, as long as you had two hands and two legs, you would not starve.
Wages here were higher than in King's Landing. The average pay was the highest in all of Westeros—and in the entire Ga of Thrones world.
als and lodging were provided, there were rest days, and daily working hours were strictly limited.
After eight hours of work, the rest of the day was your own… you could go enjoy yourself, spend ti with your wife and children, drink and talk big in a tavern, or relax with a massage.
As the refugees who had fled King's Landing put it: "The south shore of the God's Eye, Lord Luke Jaqenion's domain, is the place where the Seven's true glory shines."
"Everyone here can find dignity, find gold dragons, and find hope to keep living."
"Goddamn… no one starves to death here."
This was an attraction no other place in Westeros could match.
Compared to the high-paying "city jobs," one profession was even more fiercely sought after.
The Jaqenion Family Guard.
Even the lowest "recruit" position made countless people fight tooth and nail to get in.
Why?
Because once you passed the examination and beca a guard mber, you were imdiately given a house!
Regardless of whether war broke out, you received a high salary every month!
If war did co, warti pay doubled and there were massive bonuses for killing enemies!
If you unfortunately died in battle, Lord Luke Jaqenion would unconditionally support your wife, children, and parents until your children reached adulthood!
Your parents could be sent directly to the nursing ho, where all food, clothing, housing, and dical expenses would be fully covered by House Jaqenion!
In addition, Lord Luke had issued a decree protecting "military marriages."
Anyone who dared harm the family of a soldier would face devastating punishnt.
A husband could serve and fight with peace of mind, knowing his wife would remain loyal.
Of course, this was only a law; human hearts were unpredictable.
But at the very least, with this decree in place, anyone who tried to touch a soldier's family had to weigh whether they could withstand the wrath of a Celestial Dragon.
Inside the guard itself there was also a complete "rit system."
It ignored birth and status. Everything was decided by military rit and military rit alone!
A commoner's son could beco an officer through rit; a knight's bastard could earn dignity through rit.
As long as you had ability, you could climb.
Luke had also implented an entirely new military structure.
Soldier ranks ran from lowest to highest: Private, Private First Class, Sergeant.
Sergeants were further divided into nine grades. Seventh-grade was "Soldier King," eighth-grade was "Hero," and ninth-grade was "Treasure of the Family." At that level you were basically a legend.
Officer ranks began at Lieutenant, followed by Captain, Major, Lieutenant Colonel, and Colonel.
Colonel was currently the highest rank.
Captain Mars, commander of the family guard, currently held the rank of Major.
Different ranks ca with different benefits that increased step by step.
In addition, there was a special system of military honors.
From lowest to highest: Third-Class rit, Second-Class rit, First-Class rit, Special-Class rit.
In the previous White Ridge Pass battle, the entire family guard had received a collective Special-Class rit.
Dozens had earned First-Class rit, over a hundred had earned Second-Class rit, and several hundred had earned Third-Class rit.
These honors were not empty.
Soldiers who distinguished themselves received real gold and silver rewards… actual gold dragons, exquisite dals, and bright red banners.
They were also granted fiefs and tax-free farmland!
Countless people burned with passion because of it.
After all, these rewards were tangible—you could touch them. No empty promises, no pie-in-the-sky talk.
Young soldiers now longed for war, longed to perform ritorious deeds, longed to rise through the ranks.
As long as there was fighting and rit to be earned, they could change their fate.
But what Luke was most proud of was a system he had created himself.
The Gaoming Lady System!
This system was created specifically for the mothers and wives of soldiers.
There were nine ranks of Gaoming Lady, ninth-rank being the lowest and first-rank the highest.
The rank was determined by the husband's or son's military rit and official position.
The certificate of confernt bore Lord Luke's personal seal and signature.
No matter the woman's original status—even if she was the lowliest prostitute, a beggar, or the mother of a bastard—as long as her son or husband earned rit, she would receive a Gaoming title!
The specific standards were as follows:
Third-Class rit: mother receives eighth-rank Gaoming Lady, wife receives ninth-rank.
Second-Class rit: mother receives sixth-rank, wife receives seventh-rank.
First-Class rit: mother receives fourth-rank, wife receives fifth-rank.
Special-Class rit: mother receives second-rank, wife receives third-rank.
A ninth-rank Gaoming Lady received ten silver coins per month.
Each higher rank added another ten silver coins.
A first-rank Gaoming Lady received one hundred silver coins per month… half a gold dragon!
Besides the hard cash, Gaoming Ladies enjoyed many privileges.
For example, "immunity from corporal punishnt"… except for the cri of treason, local officials could not flog or torture a Gaoming Lady.
For example, "no need to kneel before officials"… when eting any official below the rank of lord, they did not have to kneel.
In addition, the children of ritorious soldiers could attend school for free and received priority for official appointnts, and so on.
The mont this system was announced, the entire territory's atmosphere changed.
In the past, when n went to war, won stayed ho in fear, terrified their husbands or sons would be killed.
Now?
The won wanted their n to go fight and earn rit even more than the n did.
"Go fight! I'll stay ho and be a Gaoming Lady!"
"If you dare shrink back, I'm done with you!"
This was not a joke. It was happening in real life.
Countless soldiers were literally pushed out the door by their mothers and wives to train harder and fight for a chance to go to war.
Because it was not just honor—it was real gold dragons, a fixed monthly inco even if you didn't work, the privilege of not kneeling before officials, and the chance for their children and grandchildren to change their fate!
Becoming a mber of the Jaqenion Family Guard ant wealth, glory, honor for your wife, and glory for your descendants.
Therefore, countless people fought desperately to get in.
However…
Selection for the guard was extrely strict.
First, there were clear requirents for height and weight.
Too short—no. Too skinny—no. Too fat—no…
Second, a long list of miscellaneous examinations, none of which could be skipped.
No flat feet… because marching long distances and standing at attention required it…
Vision had to be normal… because on the battlefield, poor eyesight ant death. Color blindness was also disqualifying.
Intelligence had to be normal… because modern warfare required understanding orders. Idiots were not wanted.
No deformities… because they would affect combat ability.
No infectious diseases… because plague could not be allowed in the barracks.
Normal background… at minimum, they could not be the children of fugitives or traitors. They had to be Lord Luke's own subjects.
Preferably not only sons. Luke's logic was simple: if a family had only one son and he died in battle, who would support the parents?
Although he had a full pension system, the pain of losing an only son could not be healed by money. Therefore, preference was given to those with siblings!
The selection standards were so strict that countless people were turned away.
Of course, so tried to use connections.
After all, everyone knew that entering the guard was a one-way ticket to the top.
People with connections used them. People with money tried to bribe. People with daughters tried to send them to warm Lord Luke's bed… unfortunately Lord Luke did not lack won!
The result?
It was impossible.
Every selection officer under Luke had been personally chosen by him—loyal, reliable, and incorruptible.
Anyone caught taking bribes would be beheaded on the spot and their entire family expelled from the territory.
After a few such executions, no one dared try to pull strings anymore.
Thus, the current family guard was a true force composed entirely of elites. Every soldier had been hand-picked: excellent physical condition, unquestionable loyalty, and formidable combat ability.
Add in advanced weapons and equipnt, scientific training thods, complete welfare benefits, and sky-high morale.
This army was already among the strongest in Westeros.
And it was still expanding.
Every day new recruits applied, every day so were eliminated in tears, and every day others passed and wept with joy.
Major Mars had been so busy lately his feet barely touched the ground—the number of applicants was overwhelming.
He had been forced to set up several additional examination sites and tested people from dawn till dusk.
Yet he loved every minute of it.
Because every new recruit who passed was a future elite.
This army was his pride—and Lord Luke's pride.
At night, Luke stood on Dragon Rise Terrace, looking down at the brightly lit land.
In the distance, the silhouettes of the six satellite towns could faintly be seen.
Closer by, the construction lights of Draco City blazed. Even closer, the training chants of soldiers echoed from the barracks.
A satisfied smile curved on his lips.
An army is the foundation of a state.
The people are the foundation of a strong nation.
With both, his empire had its roots.
One hand grasping "the masses," the other grasping "the army"… what could he not achieve? He didn't even need a damn cheat!
As for those nobles still scheming and fighting for power in King's Landing, those so-called "great lords" still cracking heads over a scrap of authority… let them fight.
We'll just co out later and clean up the ss!
When true winter finally descends, they will discover that real power was never on the Iron Throne!
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