Night fell.
After a long day's work, Daeron lay back in bed, ready to rest.
"What a busy day."
Daeron stretched, the corner of his eye still catching the glow outside the window.
It was the light of the forge.
Taking his leave of Count Owen, he'd seized the free afternoon to head to the mines.
With the neptune greatsword in hand, he'd pushed smoothly down to level 25.
Copper ore, coal, stone, and quartz—he'd hauled in a mountain of them.
Four furnaces outside were smelting iron ore.
"So much copper ore—as expected of the lucky ring."
Daeron lifted his left hand; the golden crescent on the ring looked exquisite.
The haul didn't end there.
On the table sat a pair of leather boots and a steel light-sword.
Leather Boots: +1 Defense, +1 Immunity.
Steel Light-Sword (Lv. 1): 4–8 Attack, 0.02 Crit Rate, +2 Speed.
One had come from the chest on level 10, the other from the chest on level 20.
"Not bad."
Daeron already knew what to do with them.
After such a tiring day, sleep came quickly.
"Time to sleep."
Daeron yawned, tucked the dragon egg beside his pillow, and gently closed his eyes.
"..."
2:00 a.m.
The whole farm lay silent; the last copper ingot finished, and the furnaces quietly died.
Clippity-clop!
Remember us—101 Reading Network.
With a soft flutter of wings, a flickering light bobbed toward the farm.
"Hehe."
A Sprite appeared again, gazing at the newly planted Strawberry Seeds below. It waved its little wand and sprinkled powder brimming with Life Force.
The patch of Strawberry Seeds absorbed the powder, bursting with vitality.
"Hehe."
The Sprite flew away... Next day.
Spring 14, Sunday, windy, 6:30.
"Ah~ slept like a log."
Daeron stepped outside, then froze at the sight before him.
"Did the Sprite event trigger again?"
His hand instinctively went to the lucky ring.
In the newly tilled plot, thirty percent of the crops had sprouted—green vines hung with plump, ruby-red strawberries.
Why wait?
He slapped on his straw hat and bent to pick.
"Strawberry bumper harvest... Strawberry bumper harvest..."
He couldn't stop humming the harvest song.
Fist-sized berries filled his basket, and his mood soared with every point of farming EXP.
Ding!
A sweet chime; a panel popped up:
"There's something you should consider before the day ends."
Farming Level up: 4.
Daeron grinned. "One step closer to richest man in the Seven Kingdoms."
When the picking was done:
16 berries in total—13 normal, 3 silver-star.
High-quality yield was low, but getting any berries a day early was a windfall.
By the calendar, these should've ripened first on Spring 21.
Second harvest: Spring 25.
After two pickings there wouldn't be time for a third before the season turned, leaving only pickles.
stardew valley months have 28 days.
Spring 25 to Spring 28 is three days.
So—ripe today, then every four days:
Spring 18, 22, 26.
One harvest on each.
16 × 4 = 64.
Total yield: 64 berries.
Base price per berry: 120 gold; 64 berries ≈ 8,000 gold.
Those 16 plants alone would pay for a barn and a cow.
Basic Barn: 6,000 gold, 350 wood, 150 stone.
Cow: 1,500 gold.
"By end of spring the farm will be on track."
Daeron could hardly contain his grin.
The remaining 29 unripe plants would give 58 berries by Spring 25.
At 120 gold each, that's about 7,000 gold.
"Enough to upgrade my pickaxe twice."
He mapped it out:
Pick to Copper: 5 copper ingots + 2,000 gold.
Copper to Iron: 2 iron ingots + 5,000 gold.
A plain pick is useless past level 40; the stone turns hard and the ore stubborn—tools must improve.
An iron pick can carry you to level 120.
"The future's bright—can't slack now."
He sorted the 16 berries:
Three silver-star into his bag—premium stuff for family and himself.
Thirteen normal into the chest; no rush to sell.
At Farming Level 5 he'd face two choices:
Rancher: animal products worth 20% more.
Tiller: crops worth 10% more.
Early game, crops rule—Tiller it is.
Once he has Tiller, these berries will fetch even more... King's Landing.
Silk Street, tavern.
Alliser, in black, sipped rye ale.
"Heard you gave Count Owen coin—how'd you end up so skint?"
A big, thick-armed man thudded onto the opposite bench and slammed down a tankard.
Square-jawed, black curls, pride in his eyes.
"Jeremy, you've no idea what I've been through."
Alliser snatched the tankard without ceremony.
Jeremy Rykker laughed. "Everyone knows Owen's a grinning fool—gift him and you'll be riding nags forever."
He wasn't mocking, just blunt—nearly earned Lord Hand's wrath once.
Alliser ignored him, savoring the ale.
"Cat got your tongue?"
Jeremy frowned. "So—leave the city or find some lord to serve?"
To buy Owen's favor, Alliser had sold his war-horse; he was broke.
If he didn't solve it soon, he'd be a hedge knight.
"I have a master."
Alliser said it lightly.
Jeremy blinked. "What?"
Alliser set down the cup, flexed, proud. "I've met Prince Daeron.
"The talk's true—Count Owen's tight with the prince.
"I used his name and got an audience."
He paused, tasting the memory. "The prince gifted me a rare fish—every bite bursting with Life Force, fragrant, divine."
Jeremy shot up. "Alliser, recommend me to the prince!"
House Rykker rebuilt the Brownhold after the Darklyns fell.
This was the age when Rykkers were most loyal to the crown.
Would serving Prince Daeron pay off?
Mad King raved; Crown Prince Rhaegar was far away on Dragonstone.
Daeron, young and able, generous, already the king's favorite—soon promoted to Deputy Commander of the City Watch.
The winds in King's Landing could shift any day.
"No back door for you."
Alliser sneered and stood. "Want to serve Prince Daeron? Join the City Watch first.
"All of us looking for a future—join the City Watch.
"The able rise, the weak fall.
"Kick those lazy leeches out and take their seats."
He stalked off, brandishing a brand-new steel light-sword.
Jeremy stared after him, muttering:
"City Watch..."