In the blink of an eye.
Day 22 of Spring, Monday, Sunny, 11:00 AM.
King's Landing, The Red Keep.
White Sword Tower.
Daeron bent over his desk, his quill sketching a defensive map of King's Landing.
He was wearing armor.
His silver-gold, ear-length hair fell naturally. He wore a purple silk shirt beneath silver engraved armor, with a golden cord hanging across his chest and a purple cloak draped over his right shoulder.
On his feet were the leather boots rewarded from the Level 10 mine chest.
Framed by the cold, stern armor, his youthful and handsome face had already cultivated the calm, noble air of a high-ranking ruler.
It couldn't be helped.
Having taken over as Deputy Commander of the City Watch, he had to patrol various parts of King's Landing.
Neither the Trial by Combat nor fighting monsters in the mines had made him wear armor, but certain places in King's Landing forced him to be on guard.
After all, the unruly citizens of King's Landing were infamous.
"Prince, the frostbite ointment you requested has been prepared."
Maester Harvy spoke in a soft whisper, for fear of disturbing him.
"..."
Receiving no response, Maester Harvy moved to the corner of the room, only occasionally glancing toward the round table.
Naturally shy and timid, he felt an extraordinary respect for the benefactor who had changed the trajectory of his life.
Daeron had taken charge and promoted him to Acting Grand Maester.
Until The Citadel elected a new Grand Maester, he could temporarily carry out the duties.
Compared to eight days ago, his entire mental state had improved tremendously.
His face had regained a healthy color, his body was no longer so frail, and a pair of square-framed glasses now sat on his face above his small mustache.
The lenses were two magnifying glasses hand-polished, and the frames were a gift from Prince Daeron.
In one stroke, he had rid himself of the negative effects of high myopia.
"The Prince is truly hardworking."
Harvy withdrew his gaze and continued mixing healing medicines.
In recent days, the Prince's demand for healing ointments had increased, and he had also requested preparations for frostbite.
Furthermore, the King's daily sedative was also essential.
On the other side, Daeron was fully concentrated on his work.
"That should just about do it."
Daeron put down his quill and picked up the result with satisfaction.
The map of King's Landing drawn on the paper was perfectly accurate to the actual locations.
"Eight days in office, and the groundwork is finally laid."
Daeron had a plan in mind.
To outsiders, over the last eight days, he had spent his time holed up in the White Sword Tower, using the Kingsguard's weirwood round table as if it were a daily routine check-in.
In reality, he had quietly accomplished many major things.
Dragon Language Farm — City Watch.
First, regarding the farm: ripe strawberries were harvested on the 18th, 21st, and 22nd of Spring.
On the 18th and 22nd, the 16 strawberry plants accelerated by the Sprites produced a total of 32 strawberries.
On the 21st, the normally grown strawberries ripened, yielding 29 berries.
A total of 61 fresh strawberries: 45 normal quality, 15 silver-star quality, and 1 gold-star quality.
The first gold-star quality crop ever grown on the Dragon Language Farm!
After the large harvest, his Farming level naturally rose to Level 5, unlocking the [Farmer] profession, which increased the sale price of crops by 10%.
With the [Farmer] profession active.
Daeron kept the single gold-star strawberry for himself, gave several silver-star strawberries to his mother Rhaella and sister Shae, and sold all the rest.
The sale price reached as high as 7,590 gold.
He kept the gold coins for now; they would be useful later.
Armed with the neptune greatsword and the lucky ring, he had reached Level 45 of the mines and begun extracting iron ore.
Harvest: Smelted iron bars and crafted three Basic Sprinklers.
Difficulty: Starting from Level 40, the mines entered a frozen region where the environment was bone-chillingly cold.
It was especially unpleasant for Daeron, being a Targaryen.
Outside of farm matters.
Daeron stretched his limbs and stood by the tower window. "Maester Harvy, has Lord Manley come to see me?"
"Yes, yes, Prince."
Harvy pushed up his thick glasses and said hurriedly, "Lord Manley said that many knights have joined the City Watch recently, which has drawn resistance from the middle-ranking officers of the original City Watch. Both sides are quite unhappy."
"Then I am relieved,"
Daeron said calmly.
Harvy: "Eh?"
The Prince's words were too complex; he didn't understand.
Daeron: "Maester, if others think I'm staying in the White Sword Tower just to avoid work, that's a perfect opportunity."
He hadn't realized until he looked.
The City Watch was actually corrupt to this extent.
The two-thousand-man Gold Cloaks establishment hadn't been at full strength for years. Captains at all levels were involved in bribery, embezzlement through ghost soldiers, and press-ganging people to make up numbers... their crimes were too many to record.
Lord Manley Stokeworth had plenty of loyalty but lacked capability.
During his tenure, he found it difficult to suppress his subordinates, so he could only win over a group of veteran Gold Cloaks to try and maintain the dignity of the Commander of the City Watch.
"It's rotten to the core; the bone must be scraped to cure the poison."
Even with Daeron's mild temperament, he was starting to get angry.
Knock, knock, knock!
A servant of House Lannister knocked on the door, announcing that the Lord Hand requested an audience.
Daeron: "Lead the way."
As he left, he reminded Maester Harvy to continue developing a more effective sedative to help his father, Aerys, kick his dependency on Milk of the Poppy as soon as possible.
Maester Harvy nodded vigorously, looking as if he were ready to put in every ounce of effort... Tower of the Hand.
"You've come, boy."
Tywin sat behind his desk, with a pile of freshly processed documents by his hand.
Looking at the deep frown lines on his forehead, it was clear that being the Hand was no easy task.
Daeron asked, "My Lord, what are your instructions?"
Hearing this form of address, Tywin frowned slightly.
However, at the thought of using official titles during work, that bit of dissatisfaction faded.
"I sent for you to inform you of something."
Tywin pulled out a document and said solemnly, "Your position was designated by the King; it wasn't the ideal role I would have chosen for you."
"And since you took office, you haven't consulted me before making big moves. Now, you've stirred up trouble."
Daeron picked up the document to review it.
It was a joint petition of impeachment.
"Just some small characters."
Daeron glanced at it and placed it back on the table.
The densely packed names were all captains of various levels in the City Watch, with at most a few merchants and minor nobles acting as their mouthpieces.
The content of the impeachment accused Daeron of nepotism, disrupting the internal unity of the City Watch, and so on... nothing of substance.
Seeing his nonchalant attitude, Tywin knit his brows. "Boy, you may look down on those flies, but don't forget that beasts often stand behind flies."
"You should offer them some appeasement and produce results as soon as possible to win the unanimous approval of your subordinates and the noble lords."
For the student he had meticulously trained, he gave a clear solution.
Daeron shook his head. "Beasts? I see a flock of sheep."
"Manley Stokeworth is the sheep!"
Tywin raised his voice and said sternly, "The noble lords behind those flies could skin you and swallow you alive."
Great nobles rule minor nobles by winning their hearts.
It's not that because you wear a crown and shout 'I am the King' that you are truly the King.
Arrogance only leads to destruction.
Daeron: "In my eyes, they are all sheep."
Tywin's expression changed.
Daeron tapped the document with his finger and asked in return, "Teacher, when a lion eats a sheep, does it care about the sheep's opinion?"
"I am a true dragon. I do not care about the opinions of sheep."
With that, Daeron gave a slight bow, turned, and pushed the door open to leave.
That flock of posturing sheep had gone too long without seeing a dragon's wrath; their perception had become flawed.
Daeron would use his actions to show them.
What is meant by the 'Wrath of the Sleeping Dragon'.
Bang!
The door closed gently.
Tywin's eyes were filled with surprise; he couldn't see through his student's thoughts.