ASOIAF and GOT Compilation

Year 276 of the Age of Aegon, the Southern Sea of Westeros.

A merchant ship battled through the stormy seas, its progress slow and grueling. Inside the cabin, a man lay weak and frail on the bed. His complexion was ashen, his skin so pale it seemed almost translucent. The relentless torment of his illness and fever had long robbed him of the ability to speak.

His name was Morton Costayne, the eldest son of Earl Houghton Costayne and heir to the Costayne family of the Three Towers in the Riverlands.

Eight months earlier, he had traveled to Essos with two personal guards and servants. After his journey, he boarded a merchant ship bound for Oldtown. Unfortunately, he fell gravely ill aboard the ship just as the journey was nearing its end.

The severe illness, compounded by a five-day storm, left him bedridden and unable to rise. Despite the devoted care of his fiancée and servants, the lack of medical supplies on board could not halt the dimming of the flame of life in his eyes.

Alice knelt beside his bed, tears streaming down her face, her hands tightly clasped around Morton's gradually cooling hand.

She had long, silvery-gold hair cascading down her slender back, and her eyes were a mysterious violet, like flowers blooming in a deep valley, exuding a captivating and noble aura. At that moment, her abdomen was slightly swollen, indicating her pregnancy.

Morton gazed tenderly at his beloved, admiring her silver hair and violet eyes. She was his greatest treasure from his travels—a remnant of the Targaryen bloodline.

The Targaryen family, with their dragons, had ruled over Westeros for three hundred years. Countless nobles and scholars believed them to be the closest to the divine. For nearly three centuries, many families had yearned for Targaryen blood, especially in their women, even though the dragons had been extinct for nearly a century.

However, the Targaryens had meticulously protected their bloodline. Even their bastards were confined on Dragonstone, and few families had ever obtained it.

The Costayne family, a small house in the Riverlands, had never dared to hope for such fortune.

Until Morton met Alice during his travels—an inn maid of lowly status. Initially drawn to her appearance, he grew to love her through their time together. Her revelation of a secret she carried was a tremendous surprise.

But now, his body could no longer hold out for him to return to his family. Letters alone could not persuade his stubborn and indifferent father. Morton knew that the Targaryen bloodline would likely never be accepted into his family.

Looking at Alice's slightly rounded abdomen, Morton felt he should say something. He strained to speak, "Alice, our child is about to enter this world, but I fear I may not live to see that moment. If it's a boy, name him Gavin. Gavin—this name will give him courage and strength to face whatever comes in the future." Morton gasped for breath, each word seeming to be squeezed from his very soul.

Alice, struggling to hold back her grief, could barely speak through her tears, but she nodded and replied tremulously, "Yes, Morton, our child will be named Gavin."

Morton managed a faint smile, a smile that seemed to hold a deep hope for the future, before slowly closing his eyes. The ship continued to sway, but it could no longer awaken this father about to depart.

After days of rocking, the merchant ship finally reached the port of Oldtown. The guards immediately sought out the Silent Sisters and sent ravens to House Hightower for assistance.

In the castle, Earl Houghton Costayne sat in a high seat, his face darkened like the sky before a storm, his gaze cold and sharp as he read the letter.

"This is a disgrace to the family!" Houghton thundered, his voice echoing like thunder in the hall. "The child in her womb has sullied the honor of my house. Moreover, I will never allow my eldest son to marry a woman from Volantis!"

The earl's outburst rendered the hall silent. Maester Edric glanced around at the bowing vassals, hesitated, and then spoke cautiously:

"My lord, if I may be so bold, given the current dwindling numbers of the Costayne family, and considering the continuation of the bloodline, why not…"

"No, this child is a bastard and cannot be a member of my house. I do not know what filthy tricks that Volantine woman used to seduce my son, but I will not acknowledge it."

Maester Edric tried to say more but was interrupted by a wave of the earl's hand.

Houghton turned to the guards and ordered, "Bring my son's body back, and ensure it is not damaged." He hesitated before adding, "Bring that woman back too. Let her stay in the castle to give birth, but once the child is born, she must leave."

He then instructed Edric, "Send a raven to the Reach, informing House Tyrell that my heir is deceased. I want to appoint Aemond as my new heir. Also, have Aemond resign from his position and return quickly."

"Yes, my lord." Edric could only bow in resignation and comply.

At the Three Towers.

In a dimly lit guestroom, Alice sat despondently by the bed, tears streaming unchecked. Morton had sworn to marry her and hold a wedding upon their return to Westeros.

Though Morton was gone, she had hoped for some recognition for herself and her unborn child. However, when she arrived at the Three Towers, the harsh reality exceeded her worst fears.

Despite her efforts, she was unable to even see the earl. Every request was coldly rejected, leaving her heart sinking into an abyss of despair and sorrow.

Year 277 of the Age of Aegon, six months later.

In the same dim guestroom, Alice's anguished cries echoed within the room, the pain nearly causing her to faint.

Finally, with the assistance of maesters and maidservants, the child was born with a clear cry.

Though the baby's hair was sparse, it was still silver. Maester Edric, after a careful examination, handed the child to the weakened Alice and said, "Congratulations, it's a boy."

He then ordered the servants to take care of the child and hurriedly left. After several exhausting transfers, he finally climbed up a tower, his trembling hand raised to knock on the door.

Knock, knock, knock

"Come in," a voice called from inside.

-------

Maester Edric pushed the door open and walked in. Seeing Edmund standing by the window, he bowed briefly and said with some relief, "Master Edmund, the child is born—a boy. Both mother and child are safe. His face resembles your brother's when he was a child, though his hair is silver like his mother's. The child appears very healthy."

Hearing the news, Edmund's face lit up with a smile. "Oh? Truly?"

The old maester nodded, smiling. "Absolutely, master."

Edmund clasped his hands behind his back, pacing the room. "Very good. Have the kitchen prepare some good food. And does my father know?"

The maester lowered his head slightly, looking uneasy. "I haven't had the chance to report to the Earl yet."

Edmund stopped, his expression turning serious, his eyes resolute. "Then don't tell him. You know how stubborn my father is. How long can we keep it hidden?"

The maester hesitated. "But the Earl will find out eventually, and the servants…"

Edmund sighed bitterly. "It's fine. I'll tell the staff to keep quiet. If my father finds out, just say it was on my orders and blame me."

The maester took a deep breath and nodded solemnly. "Yes, I understand, Master Edmund." He bowed to Edmund again and left.

Gavin's birth did not bring much joy to this cold castle; only his mother, Alice, looked at him with joy.

When Tyler Smith regained consciousness, he found himself in a completely unfamiliar environment. Everything around him seemed enormous and blurred, and his body felt tiny and frail.

Then, he realized with horror that he couldn't speak, and even simple movements were difficult. This small body was entirely beyond his control.

The unfamiliar environment and situation left Tyler confused. He remembered that he had been playing games at home before accidentally knocking over a cup of water onto the keyboard. After a crackling sound, he lost consciousness. Could it be that he had traveled through time? Had he become a baby?

He tried to observe the people around him—unfamiliar faces. There was only one woman, with wet silver hair and purple eyes filled with endless tenderness.

Is this my mother in this life? He tried to speak, but what came out was the cry of a baby.

Year 282 of the Aegon calendar

Tyler Smith, now Gavin Flowers, stood on the beach, holding an iron pot tightly in his hands, staring at the blue sea. He carefully walked to the shore, squatted down, and slowly dipped the pot into the water. Once it was full, he lifted it with difficulty and carried it to the pile of firewood he had prepared.

Gavin set the iron pot down and began to build a fire skillfully. His small hands fumbled with the branches and hay, and beads of sweat gradually appeared on his forehead.

This body is still small, and such tasks are tiring, but the next step is easier.

He placed his hand close to the hay and snapped his fingers. A small flame appeared between his fingers, instantly igniting the hay. The fire flickered to life and gradually grew stronger.

Though Gavin was accustomed to this ability, he still felt a thrill every time he used it.

He had discovered this ability when he was four years old. At the time, he was trying to light a fire with flint, but the damp stone failed him, and his hands were sore from the effort.

Just as he was about to give up in frustration, a spark appeared in his palm. Initially, he thought it was an illusion, but after calming down and trying again, the flame reappeared. Though it flickered and quickly died, Gavin was certain it wasn't just his imagination.

The sudden discovery of this magical power had surprised him. After calming down, he decided not to tell anyone—not even his mother.

Having observed the world around him since birth, he knew he had been transported to a place similar to the Middle Ages. He feared that revealing his extraordinary abilities might lead to him being branded a monster and burned at the stake.

Understanding the risks, Gavin kept his secret and only practiced when alone. Now, he could summon a flame at will and sustain it for up to a minute.

Steadying the iron pot over the fire, Gavin watched the seawater inside with intense focus. As the flames heated the pot, steam began to rise, and droplets of water condensed on the sides, rolling down into the boiling liquid. Gavin's face turned red from the heat, but he continued to tend the fire, ensuring it burned steadily.

As the seawater boiled, bubbles rose to the surface, and soon, white crystals began to form at the bottom of the pot. Though these crystals were not pure, this was the salt consumed by commoners in this world.

Without hesitation, Gavin extinguished the fire and let the pot cool slightly. He carefully collected the coarse salt and placed it on a clean cloth. He then poured some fresh water over the salt, stirring it gently before returning the mixture to the pot for further purification.

After adding a handful of wood ash for the final step, Gavin repeated the process until crystalline white salt blocks formed at the bottom of the pot.

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Gavin carefully collected the refined salt, placing it in a small cloth bag. He then tidied up the fire and put the pot away. Satisfied, he picked up the iron pot and began the walk back to the town beneath the castle.

On his way back, Gavin touched the bag of salt in his arms, feeling a sense of accomplishment.

This small bag of salt could be traded for five copper stars. In this town, two copper stars could buy a loaf of bread, though the bread was hard—nothing like what Gavin had eaten in his previous life. Once it cooled, the bread here could be used as a weapon, almost as hard as a brick.

The town beneath the castle was close to the sea, and the people here were not short of salt. However, most commoners could only afford coarse salt, which had a bitter taste. Fine salt was reserved for the nobles in the castle and was mostly mined from salt deposits. The process of purifying sea salt was unknown here, making fine salt ten times more expensive than the coarse variety.

Using knowledge from his previous life, Gavin secretly made some refined salt to sell, supplementing his family's income. Though he and his mother had lived in the castle for a while, the amount he sold was always small enough to avoid attracting attention. However, he knew that if he continued, someone might eventually take notice, and it could bring serious trouble.

---

Since Gavin was born, he lived in the castle with his mother, Alice. His mother worked as a laundress in the castle. Gavin also learned about the situation there and his life situation through the discussions of people around him. After all, servants never avoid talking in front of a child.

His father, Morton Costayne, the eldest son of the Earl, died of illness on the ship back to the territory, leaving only Alice, who was pregnant with Gavin. In this world, noble marriages would not be recognized without the presence of a septon and the registration of a maester. The heirs born were also called illegitimate children. According to what others said, Gavin's mother, Alice, was a foreigner from another continent.

Gavin lived in the castle for three years. His grandfather, the Earl, never showed up. Instead, he tried to drive them out of the castle many times. It was only due to his uncle Edmund's strong objection that they were not expelled. As a result, Edmund was reportedly punished by the Earl multiple times. Sir Edmund would occasionally visit Gavin and even bring him some "toys" that Gavin didn't really need.

Just when Gavin thought he would grow up there, an accident happened. The War of the Usurper broke out, and the Costayne family responded to the call of their liege, House Tyrell. His uncle Edmund Costayne, as the heir to the Three Towers, replaced his elderly father, Earl Houghton, and went to Highgarden to respond to the call, leading troops to attack the Stormlands.

Not long after Sir Edmund left, Gavin and his mother were expelled from the castle. Perhaps anticipating this, Sir Edmund had arranged a place for Gavin and his mother in the town below the castle.

He also arranged for Alice to work in the barracks, washing clothes. From time to time, someone from the castle would send money and goods to help them survive.

The pain of losing her lover, the strain of childbirth, and the years of labor took their toll on Alice, making her increasingly frail. Her once radiant face became rough, her eyes sunken, and she was often sick and bedridden.

As a result, their finances were often precarious. Alice, with her weakened body, occasionally did laundry, but her meager income barely supported their difficult lives. If it weren't for the frequent delivery of money and goods from the castle, their situation would have been dire.

The pressure of survival forced Gavin to refine salt using his knowledge from his previous life to earn some income, but this was also a last resort.

Gavin knew that using knowledge far beyond this world to make refined salt was undoubtedly a risk. Before making this decision, he had thought about it repeatedly. If someone with ill intentions found out, it could cause trouble. After all, this technology in his hands was like a child carrying gold through a busy city—he had no power to protect it. Gavin was already considering whether to abandon the salt-refining technology in exchange for something safer.

After bypassing a hill full of thorns and weeds, Gavin could see the town beneath the castle. His forehead was covered with sweat. Gavin raised his sleeve to wipe the sweat away, cursing his young body that had not yet matured, finding even this short distance challenging.

Three Towers Castle stood like a shining pearl on the cliffs of Whispering Bay's southern shore, facing the confluence of the Redwyne Straits and Whispering Bay. It was only three days away from Oldtown, the seat of House Hightower. The scenery here was magnificent. The castle resembled a resolute giant, standing atop the cliff by the sea. The three towers were like sharp swords piercing the sky, serving as both watchtowers against enemies from the sea and lighthouses guiding ships at night. The castle was named after these three towers.

This was a purely military castle. Due to its relatively small area, people living in the castle gradually expanded outside the walls. Over time, a small town slowly developed below the castle.

Three Towers Castle was the seat of House Costayne, which ruled over two attached towns and dozens of villages.

House Costayne had a long history, dating back to the Age of Heroes, and was once powerful. However, during the Dance of the Dragons over a century ago, the then-lord, Earl Owen Costayne, sided with the blacks, only to meet a tragic end under the sword of Jon Roxton during the Battle of the Honeywine. Most of his family members perished alongside him.

The death of their lord drastically weakened the family, and Three Towers Castle was captured by House Hightower. It wasn't until the Dance of the Dragons ended that the castle returned to House Costayne. However, by then, the only remaining heir was a young boy. Over the following century, constant pressure from House Hightower left House Costayne in an increasingly difficult and embarrassing position.

Now, only three household knights remained, with just a hundred trained soldiers on standby. Even if the militia was fully mobilized, it would be hard to muster a force of a thousand men. It was already quite challenging to fend off raids on villages and towns by the Ironborn. If it weren't for the Redwyne fleet's regular patrols in the straits, the Ironborn raiders would have looted the nearby fishing villages long ago.

In a nameless tavern in the town, Gavin handed the salt to the proprietress, Raman. When she saw the six-year-old Gavin coming to sell salt again, she couldn't help but pinch his rosy cheek, then weighed the cloth bag of salt, took five copper stars from behind the counter, and gave them to Daemon. She patted his head and said, "I squeezed a lot of goat's milk this morning. I'll bring some for you." As Gavin thanked her, she walked toward the kitchen.

Lady Raman had become Gavin's only regular customer in recent months. Through previous interactions, Gavin found her to be down-to-earth, especially kind to children, and most importantly, she always gave him extra food.

Six-year-old Gavin looked like a porcelain doll. His silver hair complemented his fair face, which was as smooth as marble with a faint blush. His large, watery eyes sparkled like purple stars in the night sky, bright and lively.

Gavin leaned against the counter, listening to the conversations in the tavern. This was also an important way for him to gather information from the outside world.

The main topic was always the ongoing War of the Usurper. As people of the Reach, everyone hoped for victory, especially wishing for Sir Edmund to return home triumphantly. Every time there was a major victory, the territory would hold a grand celebration, and many looked forward to participating in it.

---

But Gavin knew that the Tyrell family did not win the war in the end. They simply laid siege to Storm's End for over a year until Robert Baratheon defeated Rhaegar Targaryen and claimed the Iron Throne, bringing the war to a close.

King Aerys Targaryen, who had once counted on the Reach's loyalty, was brutally slain by his own Kingsguard. The former enemy had suddenly become the new king. However, the Tyrell family had still besieged Storm's End for a full year, forcing the king's brother to live on rats within the castle walls. Gavin suspected that the Tyrells would now have to work tirelessly to mend relations with the Iron Throne. According to the timing of events, the war was nearly over.

Soon, Raman hurried out with a small jar of goat's milk. She affectionately pinched Gavin's cheek before handing the jar to him. Then she knelt down, looked into his eyes with tenderness, and planted a kiss on his rosy little face.

Although Gavin felt embarrassed, he did not want to raise any suspicions. He could only pretend to be a child and accept it silently. After all, the woman not only paid him but also gave him extra food. According to Gavin's understanding, the forty-year-old Raman had no children of her own, so he could understand her affection.

As Gavin walked home along the path, his thoughts raced, contemplating the world's plot.

Yes, Gavin had figured out three years ago that the world he had come to was the American TV series "Game of Thrones" he had watched in his previous life.

At first, he thought this was a parallel world resembling the Middle Ages until three years ago when the servants in the castle started discussing it.

Robert Baratheon of Storm's End, Eddard Stark of the North, Hoster Tully of the Riverlands, and Jon Arryn of the Vale had jointly launched a rebellion against the Iron Throne. The familiar names and houses had instantly brought back Gavin's past memories.

It was at this time that his uncle, Edmund, responded to the call and led his troops to Highgarden. If calculated according to the timeline of the plot, the war would soon be over.

Gavin, well aware of the plot's direction, silently planned his future. Relying on the unique advantage of foresight, he could, in the future, successfully attach himself to a powerful figure, shedding his illegitimate status, which had caused him so much discrimination, and transforming into a nobleman.

Just like Bronn in the show. Bronn was originally just a mercenary with a humble background, yet he eventually became an earl.

Moreover, Gavin's own knowledge and technology far surpassed the current level of this world. He firmly believed that with these advanced and unique ideas, he would be able to establish an industry for himself and amass great wealth.

In addition, Gavin had another area of keen interest: magic. In this world, magic undoubtedly existed, and from what he had gathered so far, he already had the potential to use it.

Gavin secretly mused that if he could find a way to study systematically, when the red comet arrived, whether he could become more powerful in magic, whether he could use this to gain even greater strength, and then pursue more mysterious and extraordinary things—he was filled with expectations and longing for all of it.

Suppressing his chaotic thoughts, Gavin carefully held the small jar of goat's milk and quickly returned home. Inside, his mother was lying weakly on the bed, coughing incessantly as if trying to expel her heart and lungs. When Gavin came back, his mother suppressed her physical discomfort, forced a smile, and greeted him.

Then, his mother struggled to sit up and said in a slightly hoarse voice, "It's time for our lessons." She took out a book from a small box under the bed. The cover of the book was worn, and the pages were made of sheepskin.

A year ago, his mother began to teach him some strange words and languages. Recently, this teaching had become more frequent and systematic. But oddly enough, none of these words or languages belonged to the Common Tongue of Westeros. Gavin had secretly guessed that it might be the language and writing of Essos, given that was where his mother came from. Although he was full of curiosity, he knew that knowledge was invaluable, and mastering another language was not a bad thing, so he never pressed for more information.

In the evening, after Gavin's lesson was completed, Alice watched her intelligent son, who had learned to read and write High Valyrian in just one year. An inexplicable look appeared in her eyes as she unconsciously touched the pendant on her chest.

This was a unique pendant, carefully carved from bone. It was round and oblate, smooth to the touch but with a mysterious coolness. On its surface, there was a hexagonal pattern that stood out. This pattern was strange and enigmatic, as if it contained some ancient and profound secret, or perhaps it was a symbol of mysterious power. As Alice touched the pendant, her eyes gradually grew firm, and she seemed to make up her mind.

Alice gently brushed Gavin's silver hair, her face full of tenderness, and asked softly, "Gavin, have you ever heard of Valyria?"

Gavin was very surprised that his mother suddenly brought up this topic. But thinking about what he knew from the plot, he pondered for a moment and replied:

"I once heard the maester in the castle mention that before the Doom, the Freehold of Valyria was extremely powerful. There were 40 dragonlord families who governed together. They had thousands of dragons and conquered most of Essos. However, after the Doom, all the dragonlord families, except the Targaryens, disappeared. Even though the surviving Targaryens were only a minor family among the 40 dragonlord families, their remaining power still succeeded in conquering Westeros."

Full of doubt, Gavin looked at his mother's silver hair and purple eyes, then thought about his own similar appearance. He secretly formed a guess in his heart and asked tentatively, "Mother, why did you ask me this?"

Alice's expression instantly became serious, and she said sternly to Gavin:

"Gavin, after the Doom, not only did the Targaryen family survive, but several other members of dragonlord families also endured. However, after the Doom, the remaining dragons outside Valyria died off one by one for unknown reasons, and in the subsequent Era of Blood, several major city-states rebelled, and the rioting slaves killed many dragonlords who had lost their dragons. Only the Targaryens, who were hiding on Dragonstone, survived."

Gavin's eyes widened as he looked at his mother in disbelief, yet he was already anticipating her next words, waiting for her to continue her story.

-----

"Gavin, I want to share a secret with you, one that only your father knew before. My real name is Alys Belaerys, and I belong to one of the Dragon Lord bloodlines that survived the Doom of Valyria."

As she spoke, she retrieved two worn books from the box under the bed, handing them to Gavin. "These books contain the history of House Belaerys," she continued. "One records the events following the Doom, passed down by our ancestors who survived. The other is a diary written by one of our forebears, chronicling some of the family's deepest secrets. These secrets have cost many lives, leaving me as the sole survivor."

Gavin took the books and quickly skimmed through them, his mind racing with the realization that he might indeed have the potential to command dragons. He looked at Alys and asked, "Mother, the script in these books is the same peculiar writing you've been teaching me. Did you teach me this so I could understand these texts?"

Alys smiled gently, her expression softening. "Yes, Gavin. The language is High Valyrian, the tongue of our ancestors and a language every member of our family must master. You can read these books now and decide for yourself if you want to pursue the secrets within when you're older."

Gavin sat by the shore, staring at the pot of seawater simmering in front of him. The flames, dwindling due to a lack of firewood, barely held his attention as his thoughts drifted back to the revelation Alys had shared two nights before. He had since devoured the contents of the books and now possessed a clearer understanding of his mother's lineage.

The history of House Belaerys, as chronicled in the books, was largely filled with praise for the family's power, though key details were sparse. Nevertheless, the text provided a glimpse into the might of Valyria and the political machinations of the Freehold's ruling council. It emphasized the dominance of House Belaerys within the council, a house that once wielded immense influence.

The Valyrian Freehold was governed by a council composed of forty Dragon Lord families. The council itself was led by three prominent families, each wielding significant power. House Belaerys, one of these elite families, even held veto power within the council. The family's name originated from their first and most powerful dragon, Belaerys.

Belaerys was described as a dragon of unmatched power, living for 800 years and casting a shadow over the skies. In battle, it was said to transform its flesh and blood into flames, rendering it nearly invincible. The dragon's rider would be engulfed in fire as well, becoming one with the beast. Even in the height of Valyria's power, Belaerys was unparalleled.

Beyond their dragon-riding prowess, the Belaerys family was also known for their mastery of fire magic, a skill that had been passed down through generations. This made them formidable, even without dragons. The other two ruling families had their own unique abilities—blood magic and prophecy.

The diary belonged to Orpheus Belaerys, the ancestor from whom Gavin's lineage descended. At the time of the Doom, the 18-year-old Orpheus was in Braavos, narrowly escaping the catastrophe. His dragon, however, was still young and was slain during the subsequent Age of Blood when slaves revolted. Orpheus fled Braavos, losing even the ancestral sword, which later became a prized possession in the Sealord's treasury.

Orpheus spent years wandering Essos, unable to reveal his true heritage. In his diary, he recounted how House Belaerys had established a hidden dragon lair far from Valyria, containing dragon eggs, knowledge, and vast wealth. The lair was deep underground, potentially untouched by the Doom.

In his fifties, Orpheus attempted to reclaim the family's treasures and dragon eggs from the ruins of Valyria, leaving behind tokens and instructions for his descendants. He never returned. Over the centuries, others in the family ventured into the ruins, but none survived. Eventually, only Alys remained, the last of her line, until she met Morton and settled in Westeros.

The dwindling fire brought Gavin back to reality. He quickly added more firewood, trying to keep the flames alive. As he did so, he absentmindedly touched the pendant hanging from his neck.

The pendant was milky white, with a smooth, moist surface. Under the faint light, it glimmered with a mysterious sheen. According to the books and Alys, the pendant was a family heirloom, carved from the bones of Belaerys itself.

Gavin examined the pendant closely. The night Alys gave it to him, he had sensed the energy within it. For two days, he had tried to understand it, feeling the slow trickle of energy into his body but unable to fully comprehend its power. Confused, he decided to put his doubts aside, gathered his belongings, and made his way back to the town.

Soon, Gavin arrived at the familiar tavern. As he stepped inside, Laman's wife greeted him with a warm smile, pinching his cheeks affectionately. "Oh, Gavin, you're becoming more handsome by the day," she cooed.

The tavern was bustling with activity, and the patrons were animatedly discussing recent events.

"Did you hear? Robert Baratheon smashed Prince Rhaegar's chest with his warhammer, and this war is nearly over," a bearded man declared loudly.

"That's old news," a tall, thin man interjected. "The war is already over. Tywin Lannister tricked his way into King's Landing and sacked the city."

---

"No, the Lannisters are truly ruthless," muttered an old man in coarse linen, shaking his head in dismay.

"I also heard that that brute, Gregor Clegane—'the Mountain'—raped and murdered Princess Elia, and slaughtered her two children. And to think that Gregor was once knighted by Prince Rhaegar himself!" added a one-eyed man fiercely, taking a long swig of ale.

At this moment, Laman approached Gavin with a few eggs in hand, and with a warm smile, said, "Little one, I've heard the Tyrells have withdrawn their forces, lifting the siege of Storm's End. They've recognized Robert Baratheon as king. Ser Edmund will be back soon, and life will be much better for you when he returns. Perhaps you'll be back in the castle before long."

Despite the good news, Laman noticed that Gavin's reaction was odd—he was trembling, his face a mix of shock and surprise. Mistaking it for excitement, Laman quickly rubbed Gavin's little face and said, "You're overjoyed, aren't you, Gavin? Now, take your things and head home."

Gavin made his way along the bumpy, winding path homeward, the setting sun painting the sky a bloody red, casting his thin but resilient figure in a long shadow. The evening breeze tousled his hair, and though his face showed uncontrollable excitement, his mind was a whirlpool of thoughts.

It wasn't the news Laman had just shared that consumed him; rather, it was the pendant around his neck. The energy from it he had absorbed had triggered something within him—a mysterious panel had appeared before his eyes.

Host: Gavin Flowers

Age: 6

Bloodline:

Bloodfire Dragonborn (Developed 15%): Valyrian bloodline, with potential for dragon mastery and fire control, not yet fully activated.

Attributes:

Power: 15 (can be upgraded through the panel)

Skills:

High Valyrian: ProficientFire Control: Basic

Energy Points: 3 (gained by absorbing magic in the surroundings or actively drawing it in)

A storm raged within Gavin as he stared at the panel, excitement bubbling in his chest. So, it's true, he thought. If transmigration is possible, then having a Cheat System isn't out of the question. All his previous feelings—the heavy sense of humiliation, the constant oppression, and the overwhelming confusion in this unfamiliar world—dissipated like morning mist under the rising sun.

The plan he had steadfastly clung to was gradually replaced by something far more powerful: ambition. It swelled within him, wild and uncontrollable, like a horse breaking free of its reins.

Gavin realized that even the Iron Throne, the symbol of ultimate power, was not beyond his reach. And more than that, he yearned for a dragon egg—those rare and precious remnants of a bygone era.

I'm a dragon by blood, Gavin thought, his heart racing. That means I could control a dragon. And even if there are no dragon eggs now, the three eggs Daenerys hatches in the story could be mine if I play my cards right. Who knows what other dragon eggs might still exist? In this medieval world, dragons held absolute dominance in the skies and unmatched power on the battlefield.

But as the initial rush of excitement faded, Gavin sobered. Dragons were not invincible. He recalled how a scorpion bolt could kill a dragon, or how the Night King brought one down with a single javelin. And here he was, just a bastard. Even with the advantage of foreknowledge, his plans were uncertain, and dragon eggs seemed a distant possibility. At least Daenerys was an exiled princess—she had the status to receive a dragon egg.

Gavin's gaze returned to the mysterious panel, eyes locking on the plus sign beside his bloodline and skills.

After careful consideration, he decided to enhance his bloodline first. As he tapped the plus sign next to the strength attribute, his bloodline development increased to 16%. A warm surge of energy coursed through his body, filling his limbs and bones with newfound vigor. His muscles seemed to expand quietly, his strength growing like a rising tide. Even the iron pot that once felt heavy in his hand now seemed lighter.

Yet Gavin understood this was merely the illusion of sudden power. Nonetheless, his physical condition had genuinely improved.

Next, Gavin focused on his skills—High Valyrian and Fire Control. After pondering for a moment, he invested another point into Fire Control. The skill level instantly advanced from basic to proficient, and a wealth of knowledge on manipulating flames flooded his mind, as if he had spent countless years honing this skill.

Eager to test his newfound power, Gavin hurried to a secluded corner. With a snap of his fingers, a brilliant flame ignited at his fingertips. It was stronger, hotter, and more responsive than ever before, dancing to his will with effortless grace.

However, when he looked back at the control panel, he noticed the plus sign had disappeared. It seemed he couldn't use it under his current conditions.

Fully aware of the profound changes in his body and abilities, Gavin felt a surge of confidence and expectation for the future.

With one energy point remaining, Gavin fell into deep thought. He speculated that the source of these energy points was most likely the mysterious magic contained within dragon bones.

I must find a way to collect more energy points, he resolved. But obtaining them was no simple task. So far, he only knew that dragon bones contained magic, but with his current status, acquiring such bones was nearly impossible. Gavin recalled that the Red Keep in King's Landing housed numerous dragon bones, and dragon bone artifacts were scattered across the world, but these were either incredibly hard to obtain or prohibitively expensive.

Moreover, dragon bones had become a prized commodity among the male nobility, who believed in their peculiar effects, often grinding them into powder for consumption. As a result, most of the dragon bones in circulation had been reduced to mere dust.

I need to learn more skills, Gavin thought. A plan formed in his mind—to offer the knowledge of refined salt production in exchange for an opportunity. But it could only be given to one person: his powerful and kind uncle, Ser Edmund Costayne.

It was no coincidence that, according to the events he knew, this bloody and brutal rebellion had come to an end. Ser Edmund was on his way back.

With his decision made, Gavin's thoughts continued to whirl, strategizing his future and contemplating how best to present the salt-making method. Should he offer it to his uncle directly, or find a more opportune moment to reveal its value?

---

In the year 284 after Aegon's Conquest, Ser Edmund returned to the Three Towers with his men. Though they had not secured victory in the war, the Three Towers contingent suffered no casualties—a fact that was celebrated upon their return.

Earl Horton, to mark his heir's safe return, announced a grand feast within the castle. He generously distributed food to the townsfolk, and both the castle and the surrounding lands buzzed with a long-missed sense of joy.

After the castle's festivities, Ser Edmund was summoned alone to Earl Horton's study.

In the spacious but slightly dim room, Horton's face was dark with anger as he paced with his hands clasped behind his back. Edmund sat stiffly on a chair, his own expression sour.

Horton stopped abruptly, turned to glare at Edmund, and shouted, "You fool! In the midst of war, you nearly dueled with the Hightower heir over a woman! Do you realize how fragile our family line is now? We're the last of our blood! If you get yourself killed over some petty squabble, what will become of the Costayne name? Who will carry it on?" His voice echoed off the study walls, and his face trembled with anger.

Edmund shot to his feet, his face flushed with defiance. "Father, the Hightowers are our sworn enemies! They humiliated our family by pretending to flirt with my betrothed. I couldn't just stand by and let them disgrace us!"

Horton's expression softened slightly at this, and Edmund pressed on, "If you're truly worried about our dwindling line, why not acknowledge my brother's child? Bring him into the family, train him in the castle. He is of Costayne blood, after all."

Horton snorted derisively, turning away. "Absolutely not! He's a bastard. An illegitimate child will never tarnish our family's honor!" With that, he sighed heavily, paused, and looked at Edmund with a cold gaze. "I'm leaving the castle's affairs to you now. You're responsible for making decisions, but adding members to this family is not within your rights. That's for me to decide—after I'm gone!" With a dismissive wave, he turned away, ending the conversation.

Edmund clenched his fists, his teeth grinding together in frustration, but finally he sat down, letting out a long, weary sigh.

As he left the study, a contemplative look crossed Ser Edmund's face. The Costayne family had not lost anything in the war, but neither had they gained the expected rewards.

Edmund had hoped to use his contributions in the war to persuade Lord Mace Tyrell to settle the dispute over two villages on the border between the Costayne and Hightower lands. But the war had ended abruptly, leaving the matter unresolved.

Calling for his attendant, Edmund asked in a stern tone, "What's been happening in the territory during my absence?"

The attendant bowed his head respectfully and reported on recent events. Edmund listened quietly, occasionally nodding or frowning.

Suddenly, as if recalling something important, Edmund asked, "And what of the mother and son outside the castle?"

The attendant hesitated for a moment before responding, "My lord, their lives have been peaceful, but…"

"But what?" Edmund prompted, his eyes narrowing.

"Well, my lord, recently some refined salt has been circulating in the territory—the kind only nobles usually afford. My investigation traced it back to your brother's illegitimate son, Gavin Flower."

Edmund's interest piqued. "Does my father know?"

"No, my lord," the attendant replied, bowing lower. "You instructed me to look after the mother and son. I didn't want to act without your direction. Selling salt without permission is against the laws of the territory."

Edmund was relieved by the answer. As the second son of an earl, he had never expected to inherit the family's castle or title. Those were meant for his older brother. But six years ago, a letter from his father changed everything—his brother had died of illness on his way home, and Edmund became the unexpected heir to the Three Towers. The Tyrell family had even arranged a betrothal for him with a woman from a minor branch of their house. The news had brought him both the joy of inheritance and the sorrow of losing his brother.

Having gained what rightfully belonged to his brother, Edmund felt a pang of guilt. He had always cared for his brother's illegitimate son and the Volantene woman who was the boy's mother.

After a moment's thought, Edmund decided he would meet the boy and bring them both to the castle.

The next day, as Gavin was preparing lunch alone at home, a bright fire burned in the stove, the rising smoke filling the small kitchen. He turned the food in the pot with practiced ease.

A knock came at the slightly worn door, and Gavin quickly wiped his hands before hurrying to answer it.

Outside stood a man dressed in noble attire. Gavin greeted him respectfully, "Good afternoon, my lord. How may I be of service?"

Edmund raised his head slightly, scrutinizing Gavin with sharp eyes. "Do you know who I am?" he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he continued, "Never mind, you're just a child. Where is your mother?"

"Lord Edmund, my mother is doing laundry at the barracks. She should be back soon."

Edmund was surprised by the boy's calm demeanor. "Do you know me?" he asked again.

"I saw you outside the castle on the day of your return, my lord," Gavin replied with respectful clarity.

"Return? That was no triumph," Edmund scoffed, a hint of helplessness in his tone. "We did nothing but march, with no honors won in this war."

"Even so, my lord," Gavin said with a polite bow, "your dedication and loyalty are admirable and worthy of respect."

Edmund laughed heartily at the compliment, clearly pleased. He noted that Gavin, despite being only six years old, was sharp-witted and uncommonly composed. There was no fear in his eyes, only clear, calm intelligence.

This boy is worth cultivating, Edmund thought. "Little Gavin," he asked, his tone thoughtful, "do you know who your father is?"

"Yes, my lord," Gavin replied steadily. "People talk, and my mother has told me as well."

Edmund's gaze intensified, curiosity mingling with scrutiny. "And tell me, little one—do you resent the Costayne family?"

---

Gavin took a deep breath, bowed to Edmund, and replied, "I don't harbor any ill will, my lord. I am grateful to my father for giving me life, and I appreciate your kindness towards my mother and me."

Edmund listened without speaking, observing Gavin closely. He saw genuine sincerity in the boy's eyes, and at just six years old, Gavin was clearly not pretending.

Gavin seized the moment to muster his courage and continued, "My lord, I have a method for making salt. It can transform coarse sea salt into refined salt, and the process is quite simple. I wish to offer this method to you as thanks for your years of kindness towards me and my mother."

Edmund's face softened with a slight smile. "Don't worry about the refined salt for now. Since you've shown awareness of your circumstances, I would like you to come live in the castle with me. Once you're there, Coach Ryan will train you in swordsmanship. Are you prepared for the challenge?"

Gavin was taken aback but quickly responded, "Yes, my lord! I am eager to learn swordsmanship and hope to become a noble knight in the future."

Edmund laughed heartily, ruffled Gavin's hair, and said, "Very well, little Gavin. I'll arrange for someone to fetch you and your mother this afternoon. I hope you will work hard and grow into a formidable knight."

Gavin and his mother moved into the castle, and that night, Gavin handed the salt-making method to Ser Edmund.

After reviewing the method and calculating the potential profits, Edmund was pleasantly surprised. The refined salt production could significantly strengthen the family's position, providing a steady income for House Costayne.

Seeing Gavin before him, Edmund felt reassured about his decision to bring the boy into the castle. Thus, Gavin officially began his life at the castle.

The territory selected young children from the families of local soldiers for early training, and Gavin was among them. After more than ten days of group training, Coach Ryan would also give Gavin additional exercises in the afternoons.

One early morning, with the sun still partly hidden behind the clouds, Gavin stood in the training field in front of the stables, alongside a group of eager yet nervous children. Their eyes were fixed on Coach Ryan, who stood with his arms folded, wearing a serious expression.

Coach Ryan surveyed the children with a commanding presence and said in a steady, authoritative voice, "Children, from today on, I will teach you how to wield a sword. The sword will become your most important companion. It's not just a weapon but a symbol of your honor, courage, and commitment. When using a sword, you must maintain a steady heart, a firm grip, and a focused gaze. Remember, each swing of the sword must be full of strength and determination because, on the battlefield, your sword is your lifeline!"

Coach Ryan paused, then continued, "First, you must learn how to hold the sword properly."

By afternoon, Gavin received a summons from Coach Ryan. Excited about the opportunity, he hurried over.

Upon arrival, Gavin saluted respectfully, "Good afternoon, Coach Ryan."

Coach Ryan glanced at him and said in a casual tone, "Don't dawdle when you arrive. Start with the basics!" He then tossed a wooden sword to Gavin.

Gavin caught the wooden sword with eagerness, awaiting further instructions.

Coach Ryan straightened up and declared, "Today, we'll start with sword swings. Watch closely!" He demonstrated with his feet shoulder-width apart, leaning slightly forward, gripping the sword hilt tightly, and swinging the wooden sword from right to left with fluid, powerful motions.

Gavin attempted to mimic the demonstration, but his movements were awkward and clumsy. His swings were feeble, and his form was uncoordinated.

"Hey! Are you swatting flies, boy? Pay attention to your arm strength and use your torso to guide your swing!" Coach Ryan's voice boomed.

Gavin blushed and tried again, improving slightly but still struggling.

Next, Coach Ryan demonstrated the chop technique. With both hands gripping the wooden sword, he raised it high and brought it down with force, shouting, "Like this, put all your strength into it!"

Gavin followed suit but nearly stumbled due to his excessive force.

"Steady! Control your power and avoid flailing like a headless chicken!" Coach Ryan admonished, his eyes wide with frustration.

After several attempts, Gavin gradually improved his chopping technique and became more adept.

Coach Ryan then introduced the straight thrust. "When you thrust, focus on the target, shift your body's weight forward, and extend your arms fully!"

Initially, Gavin struggled to hit the target accurately, and his thrusts were slow.

Determined, Gavin persevered. With Coach Ryan's strict guidance and his own relentless effort, he eventually mastered the thrusting technique, significantly improving his speed and precision.

At the end of the training day, Gavin was exhausted, panting and sweating, but his eyes were filled with dedication and hope for the future.

Returning home, Gavin noticed a new entry on the panel—a skill called Swordsmanship: Basic. There was a plus sign next to it.

Gavin stared at the panel with intense focus and thought, "Finally, I've made progress!" He promptly allocated his remaining energy points.

The skill level upgraded from Basic to Familiar, and Gavin instantly absorbed knowledge and skills related to sword handling and combat, as if he had trained for years and faced countless battles.

Holding the sword, Gavin felt a profound connection, and reflecting on the panel's benefits, he thought, "With the panel's help, I can master any skill quickly, though gaining energy points isn't easy."

With these thoughts, Gavin fell asleep, exhausted but content.

Years sped by, and by the 291st year of Aegon's calendar, on the training ground, a young man stood poised with a sword. His silver-gold hair gleamed in the sun, and his deep, bright purple eyes were focused. At 14, Gavin faced Coach Ryan with determination and composure.

"Gavin, show me how much you've improved over the years!" Coach Ryan declared, leading the charge with an attack.

Gavin dodged sideways, effortlessly evading Ryan's sword strike, then countered with a lightning-fast thrust. Ryan barely managed to parry, but it was too late. Within just two moves, Gavin had knocked Ryan's sword from his hand.

With a smile, Gavin placed his sword at Ryan's neck and said, "Coach Ryan, you've lost."

Coach Ryan was momentarily stunned but then burst into hearty laughter. "Well done, lad! You've truly surpassed me!"

Gavin retracted his sword and offered a respectful salute. "Coach Ryan, this is all thanks to your years of teaching."

At that moment, Ser Edmund approached, his face beaming with admiration. "Gavin, your growth and progress have been remarkable. I knew I made the right choice bringing you here."

Gavin quickly saluted and said, "My lord, thank you for your support and guidance."

Ser Edmund patted Gavin on the shoulder. "My child, I've witnessed your growth firsthand. But remember, a true knight must possess not only excellent swordsmanship but also noble character and steadfast beliefs."

Gavin nodded earnestly. "I understand, my lord."

Ser Edmund gazed at Gavin's familiar features with a touch of nostalgia. The resemblance to his brother, Morton Costayne, was striking, except for the difference in hair color. It made his elder brother seem to come alive again.

Ser Edmund composed himself and said, "Gavin, considering your skills, I believe you should become a knight's squire with either House Tyrell or House Redwyne. Have you considered it? I would recommend House Tyrell, as it would greatly benefit your future development."

Gavin lowered his head slightly and replied with a hint of embarrassment, "My lord, I appreciate your kindness. I would like to spend some time studying in the city first, so I hope this decision can be postponed."

Ser Edmund was taken aback. "Studying in the city? My child, maester must seek glory and forgo their surnames."

Gavin responded sincerely, "My lord, my desire for knowledge is as strong as my desire for glory. It is acceptable for me to study without immediately taking the oath of maester."

Ser Edmund regarded Gavin thoughtfully and, after a moment, said, "If you are determined, I can write you a letter of recommendation."

Gavin saluted gratefully. "Thank you, my lord!"

Ser Edmund was slightly surprised but, after a brief pause, added, "I am saddened by your mother's passing. Please accept my condolences. But remember, you still have family, and I have always considered you like a nephew."

Gavin looked up, tears glistening in his eyes, and said emotionally, "Thank you for your concern, my lord. My mother would be very pleased to hear this. I have always thought of you as family."

After bidding farewell to Ser Edmund and Coach Ryan, Gavin, moved by thoughts of his mother, decided to visit the beach. He left the castle with a heavy heart, his steps steady but his mind drifting through memories.

Over the past eight years, Gavin's mother, Alice, had seen her health deteriorate like a flickering flame. Since Gavin's arrival in this world, he had relied on her. In his heart, Alice was his warmest and most steadfast support in this unfamiliar world.

Though Gavin had come through transmigration, the love Alice gave him was pure and profound. It was the gentle comfort on countless nights, the warm embrace during every setback, and the meticulous care in daily life. Her love was unreserved, like a spring breeze on his face, like the warm sun shining down, providing endless warmth and peace in a world full of uncertainties and challenges.

Yet, seeing Alice on her deathbed felt like his heart was being pierced by a thousand sharp knives, and he suffered each moment. He had cried silently countless nights, praying to the gods for his mother's recovery, but cruel reality seemed to tighten its cold grip on his hope.

In the seventh year after moving to the castle, Alice passed away from her illness. Gavin arranged for her cremation according to the customs of House Belaerys.

As the flames roared and consumed everything, Gavin watched with tear-filled eyes. The burning flames seemed to reveal his mother's gentle smile and worried eyes from before. Memories surged within him.

As the fire eventually dwindled, Gavin's tears flowed freely. He knew his mother would find peace in another realm. He stood quietly, saying a silent farewell to her in his heart.

Walking out of the castle, Gavin looked back at its towering majesty. Many of the outer walls had been renovated, replacing the old, worn stones with new, solid structures. The newly installed ballistae gleamed coldly in the sun, a testament to their formidable power. Even the bumpy roads had been repaired and smoothed out.

The strength of the territory had significantly increased, thanks in large part to Gavin's salt-making method. This innovation had brought a substantial influx of golden dragons, bolstering the military strength of House Costayne.

The year before last, House Costayne had responded to the king's call and participated in the campaign against the Iron Islands. During that conflict, Ser Edmund Costayne had achieved glory and wealth through his family's robust strength.

Post-war, the family had reaped substantial rewards, gaining not only treasure but also an elevated status within the kingdom.

Prime Minister Jon Arryn had intervened in the dispute over two border villages between House Costayne and House Hightower. Arryn's decision was a partial resolution—granting one village to House Costayne while leaving the other unresolved, keeping both families at odds. Gavin, hearing of this, silently criticized the Prime Minister's cunning.

Moreover, the devastating blow dealt to the Iron Islands had ended the coastal raids and looting that had once terrorized the locals. In a nearby port, three captured pirate ships from the Iron Islands—one large sailing ship and two narrow longships—were moored, a silent testament to past battles and victories.

Host: Gavin Flowers

Age: 14

Bloodline:

BloodFire Dragonborn (development 29%): The blood of the Dragon Lord of Valyria, with initial awakening of dragon-riding and fire control abilities.

Domination:

29 (Your followers can upgrade through the panel)

Skills:

High Valyrian: Mastery

Fire Control: Mastery

Swordsmanship: Master

Bow: Mastery

Lance: Mastery

Energy Points: 2 (obtained by automatically absorbing ambient magical energy or actively absorbing it)

----

Still at the salt-making seaside, Gavin stared at the panel data before him. Energy points could generally be absorbed naturally each year. Recently, he rarely used energy points to enhance his bloodline, but as he grew older, its awakening was still progressing. However, Gavin could clearly feel that the rate of awakening had slowed. He feared that in a few years, he might only be able to rely on energy points to make further improvements.

Most of his energy points had been spent on improving his combat skills, and his swordsmanship had reached a master level. Additionally, through years of training and the growth of his bloodline, his physical fitness had been significantly enhanced.

Looking at the reserved energy points on the panel, Gavin began to carefully plan his future.

Going to the Citadel, Gavin had clear goals in mind. One was the magical tomes housed there. Although he had magic power, forming it into strength had proven difficult. The Citadel might offer solutions to this dilemma.

Another goal was Maester Qyburn, who would be expelled from the Citadel in the future. This idea stemmed from the control function on his panel.

Two years ago, during the war against the Iron Islands, Ser Edmund had taken most of the territory's soldiers. The young recruits trained by Coach Ryan had been formed into a patrol team, along with some militiamen. Gavin, being the strongest among them, was appointed one of the captains. At that time, he was eager to test his command abilities.

He had initially planned to use the command function to enhance his teammates' abilities, but the result was disappointing. The command panel only displayed the names of his subordinates with a prompt stating, "This unit does not belong to you." Despite numerous attempts, the command function remained unresponsive, leaving Gavin deep in thought and questioning.

He analyzed various potential reasons and eventually suspected that the issue might be that these people could not truly swear allegiance to him, or perhaps those under command needed to possess magic to be recognized by the panel.

However, these ideas were not feasible at the moment. With his current status, achieving a title or becoming a knight in a short time was nearly impossible. Thus, making these soldiers follow him wholeheartedly and testing the command function seemed out of reach.

After much contemplation, Gavin decided on a bold alternative. If the living could not be loyal, what about the dead? This daring and unconventional idea lingered in his mind.

Recalling that in the play, Qyburn had resurrected the Mountain, transforming him into a formidable being that obeyed commands without question, Gavin saw a potential solution to his problem. Although the Mountain had seemingly regained some self-awareness or obsession later, it still provided Gavin with a direction.

Gavin contemplated this possibility repeatedly and began to believe it might be the key to resolving his current dilemma. If he could master the ability to resurrect the dead and use fallen warriors again, he would no longer worry about the loyalty of his soldiers. They would follow orders without reservation and become the most loyal and formidable force under his command.

This idea filled Gavin with both excitement and trepidation. It was a method that defied common sense and morality. Yet, faced with his predicament, Gavin felt he had little choice. He resolved to find a way to acquire Qyburn's knowledge.

Gavin joined the caravan and slowly set out on the road to Oldtown. The journey revealed the picturesque river bay, unfolding like a vibrant painting before him.

The vast farmlands stretched out like a green ocean, gently swaying in the breeze. The crops in the fields were lush and vibrant, showcasing the land's fertility and abundance.

Five days later, in the evening, Gavin arrived at Oldtown, and the towering Hightower came into view, its height exceeding 100 meters.

In Gavin's previous life, such a height might not have been remarkable, but in this medieval setting, it was impressive. Legends spoke of the tower's construction aided by magic, and it seemed these legends had some truth.

Gazing at the tower with its enigmatic and majestic patterns, Gavin's thoughts wandered. A nearly wild idea took hold: If the tower was indeed built with magical power, did it contain hidden magic? If he could touch the tower, might he have a chance to acquire precious energy points? Once this notion took root, it spread through his mind like wildfire.

Moments later, Gavin smiled wryly. He knew that with his current status, approaching the Hightower and the mysterious tower was a mere fantasy. However, just because it was unachievable now did not mean it was impossible for the future. He looked at the towering structure with anticipation.

Soon, Gavin regained his composure. Leading his horse, he strolled through the streets of Oldtown, searching for a place to rest. He found a hotel that looked quite comfortable and checked in.

After settling into a quiet corner of the hotel, Gavin, weary from his journey, waved to the waiter. "Please arrange a clean room and prepare some food and water."

The waiter quickly complied. When the food arrived, Gavin tipped the waiter with a few bronze stars and, while eating hungrily, asked about the Citadel.

The next morning, Gavin rose early. After breakfast, he went to the Citadel to register using the letter of recommendation from Ser Edmund. Along the way, people cast curious glances at him. In Westeros, silver hair and purple eyes were symbols of House Targaryen, the former rulers of the Iron Throne.

The managing maester who received Gavin was somewhat surprised by his appearance and inquired about his background. Given the Iron Throne's current stance on dragons, the Citadel, though neutral, preferred to avoid trouble.

The maester relaxed after reading the recommendation letter from the nobleman, which detailed Gavin's identity and credentials.

The maester then led Gavin to the Affairs Office, explaining as they walked, "You need to pay 10 gold dragons for tuition each year. You may choose the subjects you wish to study, but only one subject can be selected in the first year."

After you choose a subject, I will arrange for a Maester in that field to be your mentor, and you will train under the Maester as an apprentice.

When you feel you have learned enough, you can take the Maester's exam. After passing the exam and forging the corresponding chain link, you will be granted the title of Maester.

The Citadel no longer charges tuition, and there will be monthly subsidies. The amount of the subsidy depends on the number of chain links you forge, and it varies according to the number."

The Maester then explained many of the Citadel's rules to Gavin, such as prohibitions on drinking and fighting, with violators facing expulsion. Soon, they reached an empty office and began the registration process for Gavin.

Gavin touched the gold dragons in his pocket, feeling reluctant, but he still handed over most of his wealth to the managing Maester.

Over the years, Ser Edmund had occasionally given him some pocket money. He had saved 30 gold dragons from selling salt and his salary as a guard. This was a substantial amount; in Westeros, 2 silver stags were sufficient for a family of three to live for a month, and 1 gold dragon could be exchanged for 10 silver stags.

The managing Maester accepted the extra gold dragons with a smile and said enthusiastically, "My name is Maester Mishu; you can call me Maester Mishu. There are still many available dormitories. I'll give you the booklet, and you can choose one yourself. I'll arrange it for you once you've made your choice.

Additionally, Maester apprentices need to request permission to go out. If you need to leave in the future, just come to me directly.

Have you decided which subject to choose? Would you like me to recommend one? I am familiar with the Maesters in various disciplines."

Gavin frowned slightly, thought for a moment, and said, "Maester Mishu, I want to study medicine and magical research under Maester Qyburn." Gavin took the opportunity to make his request.

"That's a good choice. Maester Qyburn has made significant achievements in medicine, and for magical research, I recommend Maester Marwyn. Though most Maesters in the Citadel are skeptical of magic, it must be said that Maester Marwyn is the best in this field. However, apprentices can only choose one subject in their first year. I suggest you choose Maester Qyburn, as he also has some knowledge in magical research. The Citadel generally believes he will forge Valyrian steel links sooner or later. This way, you can cover both areas of interest." Maester Mishu smiled and offered his advice.

"Thank you for your recommendation, Maester Mishu. I will follow your advice and study medicine under Maester Qyburn," Gavin said without hesitation.

Maester Mishu shrugged. "Alright, I'll arrange it for you. If you need any assistance in the future, don't hesitate to find me."

Gavin thanked him hurriedly, and after receiving his Maester's uniform, he took his luggage and walked toward the dormitory he had chosen.

In the dormitory, after Gavin had cleaned up his room, he lay on the bed, silently contemplating his plans. The Citadel provided food and accommodation, but he needed to consider how to earn money. Selling technology directly would be like killing the goose that lays the golden eggs, and starting an industry himself was impractical due to a lack of startup capital and the strength to protect it.

After some thought, Gavin turned his attention to the martial arts competition. Every year, the Tyrell family hosted a martial arts tournament in the Reach. Although the prize money was not as high as the tournament held by Robert in the story, the first-place prize for the lance competition was only 5,000 gold dragons. However, participants needed to be knights, which excluded him, a bastard.

The first-place prize for the group and archery competitions was 2,000 gold dragons each, and anyone could participate. With the competition scheduled for seven months from now, Gavin could use some energy points to upgrade his bow to the master level and likely secure 4,000 gold dragons.

Gavin assessed his current level: his physical fitness barely exceeded that of most knights in their prime, considering his body was still developing at age 14. In terms of swordsmanship, Gavin was confident he ranked among the best in Westeros, as he had relied on cheats.

After receiving the money, Maester Mishu arranged everything for Gavin the next day, and he officially became Maester Qyburn's apprentice.

Five months later, in the Citadel. In a slightly dim room, Gavin was focused on treating the wound of an old soldier with a broken arm. The old soldier gritted his teeth, enduring the pain as sweat poured down his face.

Gavin's eyes were steady and intent, his hands moving with practiced skill. He deftly extracted the blackened, rotten flesh with tweezers, each movement precise and deliberate.

Maester Qyburn stood nearby, observing Gavin closely with an expression of admiration and surprise. He nodded approvingly and said, "Gavin, your performance is improving remarkably. At your current level, you're ready to forge a silver chain link in medicine."

Gavin continued his work, modestly responding to Maester Qyburn's praise, "It's all thanks to your excellent teaching, Maester. I still have much to learn." He smiled sincerely.

After finishing the operation, Gavin carefully bandaged the soldier's wound. Maester Qyburn inspected it and said with satisfaction, "Well done. Clean up and follow me to tend to the other injured."

As they walked out of the room into the sunlight, Maester Qyburn shared more experience and skills with Gavin. Gavin listened attentively and occasionally applied insights from his previous life to ask questions and offer his perspectives. Maester Qyburn praised his analytical ability and appeared very pleased.

As time passed, Gavin made swift progress under Maester Qyburn's guidance and the help of the panel. Gradually, Qyburn came to view Gavin as a research partner rather than just an apprentice. Gavin's insights frequently enlightened Qyburn, solving many long-standing issues with his fresh perspectives.

Qyburn even considered involving this exceptional apprentice in his private research, but such studies were not sanctioned by the Citadel, so he hesitated to extend an invitation to Gavin. However, Qyburn, troubled by long-standing issues, eventually tested Gavin repeatedly.

Gavin, sensing the opportunity, shared his thoughts on medicine and expressed support for some experimental theories combining magic and medicine proposed by Qyburn, particularly in human experimentation. Gavin showed no resistance and offered many valuable suggestions.

In Qyburn's study, Gavin and Qyburn discussed medical knowledge. Qyburn lamented the inaccuracies in human anatomy diagrams and repeatedly proposed restarting related research to the Citadel, though each proposal was rejected.

-------

"Maester Qyburn, I strongly agree with your perspective. I have an idea. Our understanding of the human body is not comprehensive enough. Without a thorough understanding, our treatments will be flawed. Therefore, I believe that medical progress should not only focus on new concoctions but also on understanding the human body, which is the foundation of everything." Gavin spoke with enthusiasm, as if he would risk everything for the advancement of medicine.

"Gavin, your idea is exactly what is currently being overlooked in medicine. However, this type of research is expressly prohibited by the Citadel. As it stands, we can only focus on medicine development and treatment methods," Maester Qyburn said with a frown, expressing his helplessness.

"What if the Citadel doesn't know? Maester? We are here for academic research and medical advancement. If we achieve significant results, it would benefit everyone," Gavin said eagerly, his eyes shining with excitement.

"This idea of yours is very dangerous, Gavin. You are still quite young. It's better to accumulate more knowledge and experience. You should study more theories in this area. I believe the Citadel will gradually change. Don't jeopardize your future," Maester Qyburn said again, waving his hand before Gavin could reply.

"That's enough for today. I still have some medicines to attend to, and I have an operation scheduled for tomorrow. Remember to arrive early. You may leave now, Gavin."

Gavin bowed respectfully and replied, "Yes, Maester, I won't disturb your work. See you tomorrow."

After exiting, Gavin closed the door respectfully, rolled his eyes, and silently complained, "Old fox, you want my help but don't dare to say it. It's been over ten days of trying, and I don't want to push it too far. If I push too hard, it might scare Maester Qyburn away, and that would be even more troublesome. Over the past few months, I've uncovered some sensitive information about Maester Qyburn secretly using corpses for experiments, but the evidence isn't sufficient. Otherwise, I could directly threaten him, which would be much better than playing this game every day."

Gavin returned to his dormitory, changed out of his formal academic uniform, carefully strapped his sword around his waist, and walked slowly toward the Old Town.

The Old John Tavern was bustling with activity and a diverse crowd. Most of the patrons were mercenaries and pirates visiting the Old Town port, and their identities were often fluid. The air in the tavern was thick with the smell of ale and sweat.

Gavin followed the waiter into a private room and saw five people seated inside.

They were all mercenaries hired by ships, laughing and drinking ale. The leader, a tall man with a hatchet on the table, was the captain of this mercenary group, Domus Thorne.

He wore somewhat worn leather armor, its scratches telling tales of past battles. His muscular arms were exposed, veins bulging like winding earthworms. The blade of the hatchet glinted coldly in the light.

Gavin took a deep breath, approached with a smile, and said, "You must be Captain Domus. I am Gavin."

Domus greeted him warmly, "You must be Gavin. Come and sit down! Thank you in advance for treating my teammates. I'll be grateful on behalf of Luca."

Gavin nodded, smiling, and quickly took his seat. Gavin had saved a mercenary named Luca a month ago. During their conversation, Gavin had learned from John that a year ago, Luca's team was hired by the Sea lord of Braavos to explore the mysterious ruins of Valyria.

Although the expedition suffered heavy losses, they were fortunate enough to find an entryway. Their captain, Domus, had secretly drawn a simple map of the waterway.

Gavin was highly interested and proposed to pay 5 gold dragons for a copy of the map. He had come today specifically to complete this deal.

At this moment, a burly mercenary with a long scar on his face put down his ale, looked at Gavin sideways, and said, "I heard you treated Luca, but the waterway map is very valuable. 10 gold dragons for your good treatment of Tom." His voice was rough, and his eyes were provocative, like a beast ready to pounce, testing Gavin's resolve.

Gavin remained silent, glanced at Domus, and saw that he was feigning nonchalance. Clearly, this was Domus's suggestion. The price was acceptable to Gavin, so he smiled and agreed, "Alright, 10 gold dragons."

The scar-faced mercenary smirked disdainfully and said, "I've changed my mind. It's now 20 gold dragons."

Gavin's left hand instinctively tightened around the sword at his waist. He suppressed his anger and said, "It seems you have no intention of making a fair deal."

The mercenary's contemptuous smile widened. He looked at Gavin sideways and sneered, "Boy, do you want to use your sword? Why don't you step outside and have a go? If you beat me, I'll give you a gold dragon. Of course, if you lose, you'll have to pay 40 gold dragons for the map!"

Gavin responded disdainfully, "There's no need to go outside. Stay here. I'll let you make the first move."

Feeling insulted, the mercenary drew his sword with a roar and lunged at Gavin. But in a flash, Gavin's sword was faster, and with a "clang," he disarmed the mercenary. Before the mercenary could react, Gavin left a cut on the back of his hand and had his sword poised at the mercenary's neck.

The private room fell into stunned silence. The other mercenaries stared with disbelief. The scar-faced mercenary's face flushed with humiliation and frustration, unable to react.

Gavin smiled slightly, took out a gold dragon, and placed it on the table. He sheathed his sword and said, "I accept."

The mercenary gritted his teeth and said, "I was wrong. Your swordsmanship is impressive!"

Domus laughed and tried to smooth things over, "See? I told you this guy is good!" Everyone laughed, and the atmosphere lightened.

As night fell, Gavin, who had just finished copying the navigation map, chose to stay overnight at the tavern. The Citadel has strict regulations; if an assistant Maester returns too late, he would surely be reported by the guards. To avoid any issues, staying at the tavern was a wise choice.

He successfully exchanged a gold dragon for the map before nightfall.

He had made friends with Domus and, through conversation, learned that this group operated flexibly between robbers and mercenaries.

Gavin also inquired about the Valyrian ruins and the Sea of Smoke and unexpectedly gained valuable insights into the division of pirate forces on the Narrow Sea, the conflicts between the nine major trading city-states, and various intriguing aspects of Essos.

--

Even news about the Targaryen siblings exiled across the Narrow Sea had surfaced. It was said that Ser William Darry, who had protected them, had died, leaving the two siblings to wander in Braavos.

Some nobles even offered a reward for the capture of the exiled princess Daenerys. However, this proved difficult due to their status as guests of the Sea Lord of Braavos.

There would undoubtedly be further contact. Gavin had also been planning how to acquire the dragon egg that Daenerys should have possessed, though he was unsure if the egg had already come into the possession of Illyrio.

With no suitable plan at present, Gavin lay on the slightly uncomfortable and simple bed in the tavern room, his thoughts a whirlwind. He wondered if altering the plot might allow the Night King, who never received the dragon, to breach the Wall. His greatest advantage was his foresight of future events. If he wished to change the plot, he had to proceed with caution, especially with the upcoming tournament in mind.

He knew that this was a rare opportunity that could not only showcase his strength but also bring him considerable fortune.

Unfortunately, it was difficult to achieve a promotion in status through the tournament. The nobles of Westeros tacitly block the advancement of commoners and illegitimate children, always wary of such individuals. While some illegitimate children might gain recognition and support from their families to become knights, very few could rise to the status of lords. Many were even regarded as family shame and ignored.

Gavin's situation was relatively favorable. Although he encountered the stern and indifferent Earl Horton Costayne, he also met Sir Edmund, who showed him kindness. Sir Edmund genuinely cared for his future and had arranged a path for him to become a knight, although it might take more than a decade. Without the panel, Gavin might have followed Sir Edmund's arranged path.

The next morning, warm sunlight mischievously crept through the window gap, gently caressing Gavin's cheek and slowly rousing him from his sleep. He rubbed his sleepy eyes, got up, washed briefly, and hurried back to the Citadel. He still had patients to attend to that day.

Maester Qyburn, who had just finished his work, removed his mask and called for Gavin: "Gavin, when you are done, come to my study."

Gavin bowed slightly and replied respectfully, "Yes, Maester Qyburn." But he thought to himself, "I fear this old fox will try again. It never ends." Despite this internal sentiment, Gavin's expression remained respectful.

Shortly after, Gavin arrived outside Maester Qyburn's study. He took a deep breath, steadied his emotions, and knocked gently on the door.

"Knock, knock, knock," the sound echoed in the quiet corridor.

"Enter," came Maester Qyburn's voice from within.

Gavin opened the door gently and stepped inside. He saw Maester Qyburn seated at his desk, holding several books, a smile on his face, but with a subtle depth in his eyes.

Maester Qyburn looked at Gavin and said gently, "Gavin, I asked you to expand your theoretical knowledge. These books are not typically read by assistant Maesters, but I believe you are close to advancing further. I see your enthusiasm and dedication to medical research. These books cover some advanced knowledge related to the human body. Take a look."

As he spoke, Maester Qyburn handed the books to Gavin, then waved his hand, saying, "Study these books privately, and don't let others know. Remember to return them after you've read them."

Maester Qyburn still wore that seemingly kind smile, but his eyes remained fixed on Gavin, as though he was trying to gauge his reaction.

Gavin took the books with both hands, nodded solemnly, and said, "Thank you, Maester. I will not let you down and will keep this confidential."

Maester Qyburn nodded slightly, then returned to his chair, beginning to organize other items on the desk without looking at Gavin.

Gavin clutched the books tightly, bowed to Maester Qyburn once more, and then carefully turned and left the study, closing the door gently behind him.

Back in his dormitory, Gavin, like a hungry beast with its prey, eagerly began studying the books. He spread them out on the table and scanned the pages with intense focus.

After a preliminary review of the books, he found two that detailed the exploration and research of the human body by mysterious blood mage, including descriptions of various dark and sinister sorceries.

Moreover, he discovered numerous annotations and queries in neat handwriting, indicating unique insights. He couldn't help but suspect these were added by Maester Qyburn, perhaps setting questions for him.

Over the next three days, Gavin almost completely isolated himself in this small research world. He lost track of time, ignored the noise from outside, and immersed himself in the complex but alluring knowledge within the books. He subsisted on simple dry food and light fruits, sleeping only briefly when exhaustion overwhelmed him.

Finally, on the third night, Gavin's bloodshot eyes, weary from fatigue, revealed a glimmer of relief and excitement. After intensive research, he had likely reached a preliminary conclusion.

The books detailed several blood sorcery techniques used by blood wizards for cursing others, repairing their own body functions, and temporarily enhancing their abilities. They also contained scattered knowledge about blood wizards. However, all these techniques required the unique blood of a blood mages, similar to how fire wizardry depends on the blood of the fire dragons.

Gavin had read about this in the historical biographies of the Belaerys family. Among the forty dragon lord families, another high-ranking family possessed the ability to control blood sorcery. Their bloodline had been passed down through generations, retaining the special abilities of blood mage. This ability inheritance was somewhat akin to the fire magic inherited by the Belaerys family, both relying on blood to maintain their power. However, blood sorcery was more sinister, malevolent, and unpredictable.

Carefully considering the contents recorded in the historical biography of the Belaerys family, it was evident that among the high-ranking families of the forty dragon lord families, in addition to their dragon-controlling abilities, they also possessed other extraordinary abilities. These powers were crucial in maintaining their dominance over most of the other dragon lord families.

----

Among the complex and intricate blood sorcery knowledge, there is only one ritual called Blood Puppet that can be performed without the restriction of having a blood Mage's bloodline. Based on the effects described in this ritual, Gavin secretly speculated that this might be the method Qyburn would use to resurrect the Mountain in the future.

According to the book, the process begins by finding a fresh corpse. This corpse must be intact, with minimal damage to its muscles and bones. Then, a series of mysterious and intricate runes must be carefully drawn on the corpse's skin using special materials. These runes possess magical power and guide the subsequent infusion of energy.

Next, special drugs are introduced and carefully injected into various parts of the corpse to ensure an even distribution and to alter the internal environment of the body.

The most critical moment follows. Blood and magical substances must be slowly and steadily injected into the corpse's blood vessels, gradually replacing the original blood.

During this process, there are strict requirements regarding the speed, quantity, and location of each drop of blood. A slight error could lead to the failure of the ritual.

However, this sorcery is not particularly powerful according to blood wizard records. It is generally used by blood wizards to create their own servants.

Since the puppet's strength and level are limited by its state during life, and if magical power is not regularly infused, maintaining the puppet becomes challenging.

The ritual's content is extremely complex, with the most critical part being the precise injection of magical blood and special drugs to replace the corpse's blood. This step requires extreme precision and caution. While a blood wizard who can control blood might handle this easily, it is a significant challenge for others.

Gavin became intrigued, realizing that Qyburn would later overcome these difficulties. After all, he didn't believe Qyburn himself possessed magical power, and the best source of magical blood for the puppet would be the master who controls it. Thus, once the Blood Witch Puppet is resurrected, it would be entirely loyal to its master, obeying orders without question.

From this perspective, it was clear that Qyburn's transformation of the Mountain did not meet the requirements for a Blood Witch Puppet. At the final moment, the Mountain had an uncontrollable obsession and chose to defy orders.

Gavin studied the list of materials and medicines required for the ritual, his eyes scanning the dense text. His brow furrowed slightly because he could only identify some of the items.

However, the known materials and medicines each exuded an aura of expense and rarity. Some herbs grew only on inaccessible cliffs or in ancient, mysterious forests, while some minerals required significant effort and time to mine from deep underground. Fortunately, with sufficient funds, acquiring these items was possible.

Drawing on his past experience and knowledge, Gavin became increasingly concerned. He shook his head slowly, speculating that the cost of producing a Blood Puppet would never be less than 1,000 gold dragons—a staggering expense.

Gavin clicked his tongue and frowned, thinking about the prize money from the tournament he had yet to receive. Even if the prize money came through as expected, after careful calculation, it would only cover the cost of about four Blood Puppets.

Reflecting on this, he sighed, feeling a mix of helplessness and frustration: "Making money is always the primary challenge, and in the future, it will likely be a serious issue I will continue to face."

The silver lining was that if his guess was correct, the mysterious panel ability could greatly enhance the strength of the flesh puppet, potentially allowing even a mediocre corpse to become an extraordinarily powerful being through this mysterious power.

The more Gavin considered this, the more excited he became. Yet, while he was enthusiastic, he couldn't help but worry about the future: "If we want to use this method to create an undead army, the road ahead will be long and arduous!"

Gavin had many product ideas that could bring immense wealth. However, every time he thought about putting them into practice, he felt a deep sense of powerlessness.

He understood that with his current strength and status, he could not effectively protect these valuable commodities.

Once these commodities showed significant profit potential, they would attract countless greedy opportunists eager to seize them.

Powerful individuals would never miss an opportunity to plunder, and Gavin felt completely helpless against them. He was already considering forming a partnership with someone influential.

The next day, Gavin returned to Qyburn's study with the precious books in hand. He composed himself, raised his hand, and knocked gently on the door.

"Knock, knock, knock," the sound echoed in the quiet corridor.

"Come in," Qyburn's voice called from inside.

Gavin opened the door and stepped into the study. With a polite and humble smile, he bowed slightly to Qyburn and said, "Maester Qyburn, thank you for lending me these books."

Qyburn smiled and nodded, then asked, "What are your thoughts on the contents of the books?"

Gavin walked to the desk and began to share his insights in an organized manner. The two engaged in a detailed discussion about various issues in the books, and the atmosphere was warm and focused.

Gavin's extensive knowledge and understanding of magic surprised Qyburn greatly, resolving a problem that had long troubled him as magic was heresy by faith .

After a lengthy discussion, Gavin leaned forward slightly, with a hint of expectation and sincerity in his eyes, and said to Qyburn, "Maester Qyburn, this exchange has been incredibly beneficial. I sincerely hope that, with your status, I might have the opportunity to read more similar magical texts to further broaden my horizons. Would this be possible?" Gavin rubbed his hands gently, showing his inner tension and desire.

Qyburn leaned back in his chair, scrutinizing Gavin. He tapped the table lightly with his fingers and said after a moment's thought, "Gavin, this is a serious matter. Most of these books are precious and secret, reserved for Maesters. However, it is not impossible for you to read them, provided you promise to keep their contents strictly confidential." Qyburn's expression was serious and solemn.

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