[Chapter Size: 3500 Words.]

—————————————

Thrid Person POV

Yi-Ti, 296 AC.

—————————————

The next day, Yin awoke to the sound of a hammer striking an anvil in a forge in a corner of the city. People were beginning to prepare for their day and get to work, but even before that, someone was already hammering away at the anvil. The Artican king himself was not alone; a curious crowd had gathered to watch.

Since Jon had requested a forge the day before, prior to returning to the ship with the city lord, he had received instructions and an address from Lord Kin’emon himself. At the break of dawn, he wasted no time. He left the ship accompanied by his guards, exchanging only a few words with his still-sleepy wives, and headed out to the address he had been given—the home of a blacksmith.

The man welcomed him respectfully as soon as they arrived, though he found it peculiar that a stranger who called himself a monarch would want to work in a forge on his own. Still, he refrained from asking further questions; after all, that was the other party’s concern.

The small men accompanying Jon looked around, commenting in a language the blacksmith did not understand about the forge’s structure. Though some remarks seemed less than favorable, he could sense their enthusiasm to see their king in action at the forge.

Jon wasted no more time. After discussing his workspace with the blacksmith and studying the forge—which was somewhat different from the traditional style but still served the same purpose and process—he stepped forward. Stripping off his shirt without any additional protection, he began heating the forge while some men unloaded crates from the ship.

He began unpacking the first items as the flames roared, preparing molds of his own design—different from those the local blacksmith used but similar to those for crafting armor. Jon had created these during the journey, allowing him to craft smaller items. Soon, a new metal emerged from the crates in the form of swords and armor plates, stunning the old blacksmith. The man watched, intrigued by the unique gleam of the material.

“This is… impossible!” he murmured in disbelief, recognizing the value of the metal.

“Don’t be surprised. We have plenty of it, and I intend to make a few things,” Jon replied, before returning his focus to the forge.

He began heating the metals, placing them in the furnace to melt under extreme heat. The process was lengthy. For hours, the metal was heated until it became liquid, while Jon organized everything—even pulling out his special hammer, crafted from Valyrian steel with runes etched into it.

The blacksmith of Yin observed, marveling at the wealth such material represented. Watching swords and disassembled armor plates being melted down, he was at a loss for words. To Jon, however, those swords and armor held little value; he wanted to reshape them into something truly useful.

After reaching the ideal temperature, Jon poured the molten steel into the molds, filling each piece according to his designs. Sweat trickled from his brow as he removed stray splashes of molten metal with his bare hands, leaving the blacksmith speechless. Jon worked tirelessly, hammering each piece after allowing it to cool slightly, even as they glowed red-hot.

The blacksmith and the dwarves who had come to watch were awestruck. Witnessing the master blacksmith of Artica at work was a rare spectacle. Jon, who had surpassed even Thor—his forging mentor in recent years—was crafting the world’s most precious metal with unparalleled skill before their very eyes.

Everyone watched in admiration as Jon handled the fire naturally, unbothered by contact with the flames. The blacksmith asked countless questions, but the language barrier made communication difficult. Even so, the guards tried to answer as best they could.

Finally, the first piece was complete. Jon set it aside and immediately began working on the next one. Piece by piece, he continued molding, impressing everyone with his dedication. None of them realized they had spent the entire day in the forge without eating, while Jon seemed unfazed, still fully focused on his goal.

“My king, night will soon fall. Perhaps it’s best to return and rest,” suggested one of the royal guards, approaching Jon but not too closely due to the heat radiating through the area. Unlike most blacksmiths, Jon didn’t have to worry about it, as he was immune to fire.

Jon, still focused on the forge, was reheating the metal. He carefully poured the molten steel with precision before finally looking at the guard who had spoken. Shaking his head, he made it clear he was unwilling to stop.

“No, I intend to finish this armor by tomorrow. I won’t leave until it’s done. Go back to the ship and bring other men to switch shifts,” Jon commanded.

The guards hesitated for a moment but ultimately obeyed their king. Jon then turned to the blacksmith from Yin who owned the forge.

“I’ll be hammering at the anvil all night. I hope I won’t inconvenience you, master blacksmith,” Jon said to the man, who regarded him with a certain admiration for his skill. He had never seen anything like it. Jon had spent the entire day crafting a complete suit of armor without stopping and showed no signs of fatigue, even intending to work through the night.

“No, you may work freely. My family and I won’t disturb you,” the blacksmith replied, snapping out of his trance and accepting the situation. Jon nodded in thanks and refocused on the tasks in the forge.

The royal guards began their shift change, heading back as instructed, but the dwarves refused to leave. They wanted to watch Jon at work. After all, it wasn’t every day one could witness Artica’s greatest blacksmith forging a unique masterpiece. For the dwarves, it was pure artistry.

When the new guards arrived to find their king still working as night fell, they too were astonished. Nevertheless, they assumed their protective positions. One guard reported that Jon’s family was worried about him, but he dismissed their concern.

“I already said I’ll finish what I started. There’s no need to worry, and tomorrow I’ll be with my family,” Jon stated firmly.

Night fell in Yin, but the light of the forge continued to burn on that side of the city. The sound of hammering echoed through the early hours as Jon worked tirelessly, piece by piece. Finally, at dawn, every component he needed was completed, exactly as he had envisioned. He added unique features to each armor plate—details that only a master blacksmith of his level could achieve. He inscribed runes into the armor plates, which glowed faintly on the metal’s surface as he imbued them with magic.

When he finished, Jon separated the pieces, examining them with satisfaction before quickly assembling them. The result was a full suit of samurai armor made entirely from Valyrian steel, adorned with magical runes. He had replaced the old armor he’d found in Valyria with a new creation, larger and tailored perfectly to his size—after all, he was taller than the knight who had previously worn it. Jon’s expertise in crafting armor was evident in the flawless execution of this final product, made from the magical steel of the ancient dragonlords.

What everyone there witnessed was unparalleled: the first fully forged Valyrian steel armor in the world since the fall of Valyria. While Jon planned to craft another suit for use in the West, he decided to incorporate elements of Yi-Ti culture into this one, finding the idea intriguing. Perhaps this would be the first in a grand collection of unique armors from different cultures that Jon intended to display alongside various swords in his halls in Artica.

Jon sighed, pleased with the outcome. He gazed at the completed armor while those around him kept their eyes fixed on the masterpiece, admiring and even coveting it.

“This is a work of art!” the dwarves exclaimed, clapping enthusiastically.

Jon merely smiled. With nothing left to do there, and the day already half over, he decided it was time to leave after 36 hours of uninterrupted labor. “Let’s return to the ship,” he said, before turning back to the blacksmith.

“Thank you for lending me your forge. Here is the appropriate payment for the use of your services,” Jon said, handing the blacksmith a very generous sack of gold.

The man accepted the gold, visibly pleased with the generous amount, far more than he expected, but also with a look of admiration—and envy—for the armor. He knew that a piece like that could even win the Shogun’s favor.

Thus, the Articans made their way back to the ship, transporting the armor through the streets in a well-guarded cart, covered with cloth to shield it from prying eyes.

“You really needed to spend an entire day forging armor without resting?” Ygritte asked as soon as they returned to the ship, transferring the armor onboard. She approached Jon with a slightly disapproving look.

“Don’t question such things, my wife. I have my own ways of finishing what I start,” Jon replied calmly.

Ygritte didn’t press the matter. While she didn’t fully understand the reason for such dedication, she respected her husband.

“Your guards said you didn’t eat anything. You must be hungry. We didn’t eat either while waiting for you, Jon. We thought you’d come back before noon,” Rhaenys said, approaching with her son and the dragons. They headed to the kitchen to eat after that, while the armor was taken to Jon’s quarters.

“Can I see your armor, Jon?” Arya quickly asked as he sat down. The armor had yet to be unveiled.

“Of course. You can visit it in my quarters,” Jon replied, and Arya nodded excitedly, even leaving her food to go see it. Jon didn’t mind.

“Ygritte, how are the ministers progressing with studying the local language?” Jon asked, turning to his wife, who hadn’t yet looked into the matter. He sensed a faint discomfort from Rhaenys nearby at the mention of this and raised an eyebrow at her, understanding almost immediately.

“I understand your anger if it’s because he’s a Lannister,” Jon continued, addressing his sister. “But he doesn’t seem like someone we should kill just because of his family. I don’t see the usual arrogance in him, and I don’t recall the Lannisters—at least not him—committing any crimes, unlike his brother.”

It was no secret that Rhaenys harbored intense hatred for those who destroyed her family. Jon could understand how Gerion Lannister’s presence aboard the ship unsettled her. That hatred had been nurtured over years, fueled by her mother’s family and constant reminders of the misfortunes the Lannisters had inflicted on the Targaryens. Even Jon’s mother had not escaped Rhaenys’s resentment, though Jon would not tolerate such feelings toward her.

When Rhaenys learned of the Lannister aboard the ship, she had nearly asked Jon to keep him away—or even to kill him—but had managed to restrain her anger. She focused on her son instead, attempting to suppress the urge for vengeance that sometimes surfaced. Growing up in Dorne, surrounded by talk of avenging her family, had made such thoughts almost habitual for her.

In the end, Rhaenys sighed and admitted, “Jon, I apologize for this.” She sounded sad, realizing it wasn’t healthy to hold onto so much resentment. She didn’t want her son to remember her as a bitter mother.

“Even so, the man seems rather downcast, as if he’s afraid of being with us,” Wind interjected this time.

“What do you mean by that?” Jon asked.

“She means he already knows what happened—what you all did in his family’s lands,” Wind explained. “He seems a bit terrified at the sight of dragons and discovering there’s a Targaryen on the ship.”

“Well, I can understand that,” Jon replied calmly.

“Jon, isn’t that dangerous?” Rhaenys couldn’t help but ask.

“Not after hearing that he has no intention of leaving… but I’ll also look into why that is,” Jon said finally. He resumed eating while they shifted to lighter topics of conversation.

Meanwhile, Gerion was in the city, assisting the ministers in learning and developing the local language. He was introducing Artican customs to the locals, much like Kin’emon had done with Jon two days earlier. Royal guards accompanied him, but his enthusiasm had noticeably waned. Though he knew he would earn a lot of money helping the group, he was shaken when they began recounting tales of their journeys.

Little by little, Gerion learned about the events involving his family. He was horrified to hear how his nephew, James, had been captured by the Articans and treated like a dog while a prisoner. He found out that Jon and his group had taken the boy to an important Lannisport stronghold, using him to demand concessions from his older brother. When Tywin attempted a counterattack as they returned to their fleet, he suffered the humiliation of having several of his ships destroyed.

Gerion was left speechless upon hearing about the fate of Gregor Clegane, known as the Mountain: castrated, tongueless, and with one arm rendered useless. He had never imagined such a thing could happen to someone like Gregor, the greatest war dog of his family and his brother’s most fearsome enforcer. And it had been the Artican King himself who had done this, treating Gregor like an animal.

Gerion stayed silent for most of the time, digesting this information. A second wave of shock hit him when the ministers told him about an attack by King Robert Baratheon with his fleet. Robert had launched a massive assault as the Articans returned to their homeland, only to suffer a crushing defeat. All his ships were destroyed. The Artican fleet, numbering just 200 ships, had annihilated the entire naval force of Westeros. Now, according to reports from the samurai who had sent scouts, the Artican fleet was even larger, totaling over 450 vessels.

Gerion also learned about the existence of dragons when he saw a white-haired, purple-eyed woman strolling on the flagship. It was evident she was a Targaryen. He knew all too well what his family had done to the Targaryens before Robert seized the throne. Now, he was surrounded by them.

There was another woman with her, though darker-haired but bearing the same purple eyes and Targaryen features. Their gazes made him uncomfortable. The first woman displayed distrust and perhaps suppressed anger. The second, however, radiated pure hatred, as if she wanted to kill him on the spot. Gerion laughed nervously, trying to mask his fear.

He later learned that this woman was the daughter of Elia of House Targaryen—possibly the rightful heir to the Iron Throne—now married to the Artican King, with whom she shared a son and dragons.

He could only hope that the King of Artica wasn’t as cruel as the stories suggested. If he were, Gerion feared Jon might kill him just for being a Lannister, much like his brother Tywin would have done if their positions were reversed.

So far, Jon had shown no inclination to harm him. On the contrary, he had even requested his services.

Gerion finally returned home after a day spent avoiding the ships. While bidding farewell to the Articans, he noticed Jon keeping an eye on him. Jon had started investigating him, seeking to determine if Gerion was truly trustworthy, though he already sensed the man was different from his infamous brother.

Through a discreet investigation involving animals, Jon uncovered something unexpected: this Lannister had formed a family in Yi-Ti. He had two children, one four years old and the other two, with a local woman. Perhaps this was the real reason Gerion hadn’t returned to Westeros. Jon nodded in satisfaction at the discovery.

On the third day, Gerion returned to the ship to continue teaching the ministers. That was when he saw Jon for the first time in two days.

“Gerion Lannister,” Jon remarked, crossing the ship’s deck. Gerion nodded, glancing at him and the Artican guards accompanying Jon with notable caution.

“I heard you were forging armor on your own. That’s unusual,” Gerion commented carefully, trying to ease the tension. Yet he couldn’t help but be impressed by how this young man—barely 18 years old—might be wealthier than Tywin, had already caused such chaos, commanded giants and an immense fleet, and even performed manual labor. Gerion still struggled to comprehend it all.

“It’s true. Depending on the Shogun’s response to this Empire, I’ll decide whether or not I can use it here,” Jon said calmly. He planned to wear the armor when traveling to the capital, assuming all went well.

“I see. Surely the Shogun will be impressed by the extraordinary young man that you are,” Gerion commented, still cautiously observing Jon. Despite his laughter, Gerion maintained a serious tone, and it was clear the Lannister was growing increasingly nervous.

“Tell me something, Gerion Lannister,” Jon began suddenly, looking directly at him. “I’m curious. Do you not plan to return to Westeros?” he asked seriously.

There were certain things Jon couldn’t allow to leave this place. He needed to ensure Gerion wouldn’t carry information about the dragons or the Targaryens traveling with him.

Gerion took a deep breath, carefully choosing his words. “I don’t intend to leave here, although, honestly, I like the idea of returning someday,” he admitted. “But I have a daughter. Her name is Joy. She’s the result of a union with a common woman. Let’s just say my older brother didn’t approve of it, and she was born with the name Hill.”

“I see… a bastard…” Jon murmured, understanding all too well the kind of life this girl must have. “And why did you leave her behind in search of your sword?” Jon raised an eyebrow, already aware that the man was pursuing the Lannisters’ ancestral blade. Jon knew the story. A Lannister, head of the house at the time—whose name Jon couldn’t recall—had set out for Valyria in search of treasures, disappearing along with the weapon a long time ago.

“In exchange for the sword, my older brother promised to petition the king to remove my daughter’s bastard status and make her a Lannister. That’s why I came here. Then… some things happened, and I ended up staying. With other unexpected events, I found myself starting my own family here, free from the pressures of the Lannisters,” Gerion explained.

“And your daughter?” Jon asked, arching an eyebrow.

“She should be here with me, along with our family, but I still can’t do anything about it,” Gerion replied with a tone of resignation and sadness. He genuinely wanted Joy Hill with him here, far from her bastard status, where they could live happily. But he couldn’t simply return or leave his current life, especially given the high risk of death in attempting to reach Westeros.

“I understand. It must be hard to be away from your daughter,” Jon remarked, thinking about his own daughter, Lyanna, who was back in Artica. After months of travel, he too felt the pain of being away from her as a father, unable to share important moments in her life. Yet he knew he was here for a better future for her and his other child.

“Thank you for your words, King of Artica,” Gerion said in the end, sincerely.

“It’s no problem. Please continue. I’ll be seeing Lord Kin’emon this morning. I’ll be leaving now,” Jon said, while Gerion went on his way to continue teaching the ministers.

Meanwhile, Jon returned to the city lord’s mansion with his family once again. The ship’s food supplies had already been consumed by the population, and now the city was restocked. The threat of food shortages had passed, and the people seemed happier. It was time for Jon to collect his gold and resolve a few more matters while awaiting the Shogun’s response from the capital.

The letter sent by Kin’emon’s family via carrier pigeon, carrying the important message to the capital, flew over forests and rice fields. However, midway through its journey, an arrow struck the pigeon, piercing it mid-air. It fell lifeless to the ground.

It didn’t take long for riders to gallop to the scene. A few dismounted, collected the letter and the pigeon’s body to eliminate evidence, and quickly rode east. Upon opening the correspondence, they found intriguing information about a new group that had arrived in Yin. They kept the letter and vanished into the horizon to relay the news to their leaders.

Meanwhile, the samurai assigned to personally deliver the message continued his journey to the capital. He was the contingency plan in case the pigeon was intercepted, though he had no idea it had already happened. He pressed on, riding days and nights along the roads on his horse.

After a week of arduous travel, he finally arrived at the capital, carrying with him the message that could change many things within the empire.

◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

? Raccoon here: ?

I deeply appreciate your support since the beginning of this exciting journey!

I hope each chapter has provided incredible moments. If you like my work and would like to support the continuation of this fanfic, consider becoming a patron with plans starting at $2!. As a token of gratitude, I offer access to more than 210 extra chapters with 7 active fanfics at the same time, along with other exclusive benefits on my profile, such as images and significant decisions for the stories.

Even if you are not a patron, I am making chapters available a few hours earlier here, so become a free member on the platform!

? RaccoonLeague | Patreon?

Visit our Patreon for more: /RaccoonLeague

Extra Content Already Available:

?‍☠️ One Piece – I Am a Different Luffy!: 30 extra chapters!

? Danmachi – Infinite Mana System!: 30 extra chapters!

? Game of Thrones: The Legend of Jon Arctic!: 30 extra chapters!

? Naruto – Minato Namikaze SI!: 30 extra chapters!

?️ The Witcher – As Uchiha Madara! 30 extra chapters!

⚡ Harry Potter – Shadow Monarch! 30 extra chapters!

? Game of Thrones: DragonBorn! 30 extra chapters!

Except for One Piece with daily chapters and DragonBorn once a week, all fanfics are updated 3 times a week, there’s just a pause in updating in the week, only to create drafts for the week’s chapters.

In addition to the extra chapters, daily chapters are posted and 25 chapters per week!

Your support is very important and makes all the difference in keeping these stories alive.

Thank you very much for being part of this journey! I hope you continue to enjoy the story and that it brings even more joy to your life!

Visit our Patreon for more!!

◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep