Melisandre spoke in Valyrian. Apart from the name Thoros, Aegor could not understand the rest. At this moment, the shop attendant who had escaped and hid with the Night’s Watch also spoke to him with a smile. “Commander, I am Tobho Mott. The person you sent earlier has conveyed the message. You have found the right person. I dare not say the entire Westeros, but I am definitely the only one in King’s Landing who can reforge Valyrian steel!”

So this person was the one he was looking for on this trip, but Aegor had no intention of talking to him at this moment. His attention was on the red-robed man opposite.

Perhaps simply to contradict Melisandre or considering whether others present could understand, Thoros replied in the common tongue. “The Lord of Light conveyed the oracle to me in the flames, my Lady. He told me that we must rush to the Wall as soon as possible to participate in His decisive battle with His archenemy. Such an epic battle, of course, needs the best equipment. So, we came here to acquire some goods.”

Tobho Mott would not accept this explanation. Relying on the backing of a group of Night’s Watch who looked capable, his voice grew much louder. “What epic battle, nonsense! Even if you go to heaven to kill a god, you cannot forcibly take the equipment I saved here for the City Watch officers!”

But no one paid attention to the shop owner. Both sides looked at the leader of the other with surprise. Aegor and Melisandre stared at the young noble with golden-red hair beside Thoros, while those on the opposite side carefully observed the Night’s Watch Commander who had suddenly appeared before them as if he had fallen from the sky.

After a moment, the young noble smiled and walked toward Aegor first, placing one hand on his chest and bowing. “It is an honor to meet you here, Commander. I am Beric Dondarrion. These two are my friends: Angei, the Marksman who won the archery competition at the tournament celebrating Eddard Stark’s appointment as Hand of the King; Reliable Luke, who is skilled in swordsmanship and possesses immense strength. The child outside watching the horses is my squire, Edric Dayne.”

“Lord Dondarrion, it is a pleasure to meet you,” Aegor returned the bow in kind, also briefly introducing Nina and Qyburn, but a ripple had already stirred in his heart. Beric Dondarrion? Is this the Beric who was killed countless times by Tywin’s army in the original plot but never died? He did not look similar at all, but thinking about it, on this timeline, he probably had not been killed even once yet. “Hearing Thoros of Myr say, you want to head to the North to support the Night’s Watch?”

“That is right,” Beric said with a spirited expression. “Commander, you and I are practically fated comrades-in-arms. We were just worrying about how to leave King’s Landing for the North, and by sheer coincidence, we bumped into you here. Surely your ship will not be short of these five spots for us!”

Of course, there was no shortage of these five spots. A few thousand catties of saltpeter in jars look like a lot in a small part of the warehouse, but it is far from enough to fill the blackbird. But, coming to Steel Street in King’s Landing to invite Tobho Mott, he actually ran into several Red God followers and warriors who obey the will of the Lord of Light, all of whom had roles in the original plot.

Is this a coincidence?

Only a ghost would believe that.

Could it be that the mysterious R’hllor, after learning about his idea of melting the sword and casting arrowheads, and his specific itinerary, notified Thoros and Beric and their group through fire to wait for him here today, thereby providing him with an excellent archer and three excellent warriors to cooperate, in order to maximize the power of the arrow version of Lightbringer?

The above is a better guess. There is an even worse possibility that Aegor did not even dare to think deeply about. Was the idea of melting the sword that suddenly popped into his mind shortly ago still a decision made independently by his free will?

Is it possible that R’hllor influenced his subconscious to implant the idea of melting the sword, guiding him to Tobho Mott’s blacksmith shop, and then giving Thoros an oracle that also made him have the idea of coming to the best blacksmith shop in King’s Landing to purchase equipment, thereby logically bringing the two groups together and helping the last missing group for this war catch a ride with him back to the Wall?

This guess seems to explain everything completely.

He lied to Melisandre saying that R’hllor instructed him to recast the sword into ranged weapons. Could it be that this was not a lie, but an accidental truth?

Just like the classic brain in a vat problem, how can he, in his current situation, distinguish whether he has been influenced or even controlled by R’hllor?

Aegor was chilled by this thought, so much so that he was stunned for a few seconds, not even hearing the Beric’s next sentence.

“My Lord?”

He quickly returned to reality. “Oh, of course, no problem. The Night’s Watch welcomes assistance from any ambitious person in the Seven Kingdoms.”

“Commander, let us be clear, we are just going to help you fight the dead,” the archer Angei, who looked like a big boy, added. “We are not joining the Night’s Watch. I have not had enough of women’s taste yet. If you make me swear not to marry, you might as well kill me.”

Beside them, Melisandre and Thoros had started arguing in the common tongue. The Red Priestess questioned the drunkard Thoros about why he had not completed the task assigned by the High Priest, while the latter unceremoniously retorted that he had his own way of serving R’hllor. Melisandre’s arrogant expression and aggressive tone showed that her status within the Red God was higher than Thoros’s, but the latter had a devil-may-care attitude like a dead pig not afraid of boiling water, seemingly not buying into the authority of the high priestess before him.

“Hey…” The shop owner, who had hoped that Aegor, who needed his help, would support him, did not expect that in just a few words, the two groups would hit it off and become allies. He immediately looked at Aegor with some worry. “Commander, you seem like a reasonable person. Can you persuade your friends? This equipment was ordered by His Majesty the King. I cannot explain it if you just take it away.”

Reliable Luke glared fiercely at the shop owner. “We are going to the North to fight the natural enemy of mankind, to end the Long Night and protect all the residents of the Seven Kingdoms. It is your honor to use the equipment in your shop! If you keep making excuses, when the dead come south and swallow the human kingdom, do you think the City Watch wearing your armor can act as the Night’s Watch?”

Aegor had also recovered from the chilling conjecture at this point, struggling to curb his runaway thoughts. He looked up at the equipment his new companions had taken a liking to. Shiny, well-made, and indeed quite good, but they were just a few sets of ordinary mid-to-high-grade armor. The batch that Lord Tywin donated to the Night’s Watch was no worse in quality. After distributing one set to each trusted officer, there were still more than ten sets left.

“Let us forget it, everyone. Mr. Mott still has to do business in King’s Landing and has his difficulties. Let us not trouble him. When we reach the Gift, I will open the warehouse and let you choose suitable equipment first.”

With this promise, he managed to quell the dispute. Suppressing his surprise and doubt, Aegor continued to handle the main business as planned. He asked Tobho Mott how he had considered it, whether he was willing to go to the North with him to reforge an unknown Valyrian steel sword for the Night’s Watch.

“Alas, of course I am willing, but why did you not bring the sword?” Tobho sighed. “It is not impossible for me to go North myself to do the work, but I must state in advance. As the best forging artisan in Westeros, my appearance fee is very high. We must negotiate the price here first.”

“Name your price,” Aegor never expected everyone to be enlightened enough to offer free services just because the Night’s Watch claimed to be fighting White Walkers. But he was just a common blacksmith, no matter how good his skills were, at most it would be a thousand or eight hundred golden dragons. How high could it be?

“You have decided to melt a Valyrian steel sword and forge as many arrowheads as possible.” Tobho Mott hesitated before quoting a price. “No matter how big that sword is, I want one-tenth of its Valyrian steel as payment, how about that?”

“One-tenth of the Valyrian steel?” Beric, who was standing nearby, laughed after hearing this. “That is a good price indeed. Lord Tywin would probably be willing to pay a hundred thousand golden dragons for any Valyrian steel sword, yet he spent half his life without finding a seller. You, a blacksmith, demand an appearance fee of over ten thousand golden dragons at once, more than what I, the Earl of Black Harbour, collect in taxes in a year?”

“An original and complete Valyrian steel sword is worth more than a hundred thousand golden dragons because, in addition to being a weapon, it is also a discontinued collectible. But after melting, it is just a material with excellent performance. And how much one-tenth of the material is worth, I really dare not make a judgment before seeing the size of this sword. In short, it is definitely not worth ten thousand golden dragons,” Tobho did not directly respond to Beric’s ridicule, but analyzed it righteously. “But my Lord, when you trust and choose me to reforge Valyrian steel weapons for you, have you ever thought: I learned the Valyrian steel forging technique across the Narrow Sea many years ago. After such a long time, will it become rusty?”

Who does business by questioning themselves and ruining their own reputation like this? Aegor was curious. He really had not doubted it, not because he could not think of it, but because the other party had successfully forged Oathkeeper and Widow’s Wail in the original plot, which made him subconsciously trust him.

“Is it still not too late to ask now, have your skills become rusty?”

“I can answer you with certainty, no!” The shop owner said decisively. “Not because I have a good memory or high talent, but because I have practiced persistently. Valyrian steel swords are hard to find in the world, but various small items such as maesters’ links, miniature daggers, rings, etc., can sometimes be seen on the black market. When I first offered my tuition to the grand artisan in Qohor to learn the skill of re-forging Valyrian steel, the grand artisan reminded me: I might never have the chance in my life to encounter someone coming to me to re-forge a real Valyrian steel sword. But even so, I still spend hundreds of golden dragons every year to purchase fragmented small Valyrian steel items, repeatedly re-forging and re-forging, until it finally fails and the Valyrian steel deteriorates and loses its properties, and then I summarize the lessons from the failures and think about how to avoid them. Such a skilled worker cultivated at a huge cost, waited countless years just to serve you and your sword one day. Thinking about it this way, do you still think the price of one-tenth of the Valyrian steel is expensive?”

So he was beating around the bush to praise himself, but the shop owner’s words were reasonable. Not only did Aegor not feel disgusted by his self-praise, but he was even moved by his craftsmanship. Just like the art of dragon-slaying, spending time, energy, and money to learn and practice repeatedly, yet it is highly likely that one might never encounter a dragon in their entire life. This kind of hopeless waiting has a subtle similarity to the spirit of the Night’s Watch. From ancient times to the present, how many Night’s Watch have guarded the Wall their entire lives for White Walkers who would never attack?

If this statement is true, then Tobho’s appearance fee is indeed worth the price he is asking.

“Forging Valyrian steel arrowheads?” The archer Angei became interested. “By the Seven, I have never used a Valyrian steel weapon. Commander, if you are willing to give me ten such arrowheads after the re-forging is successful, I will prove to you why I won the championship at the Hand’s tournament!”

“As long as your archery skills are as divine as Lord Beric says, I will consider it,” Aegor replied with a smile, then looked at Tobho and answered his question in a deep voice. “Forget one-tenth, I will give you one-fifth. But with two additional conditions. One, if there is a failure during the re-forging process resulting in loss, it will be deducted from your one-fifth first, meaning, if the loss exceeds one-fifth, you will have to work for me for free. Two, your payment, I want to use it first to deal with the White Walkers and the Night King, and pay it after this war is over, within a year at the latest. If the arrows are shot out and less than one-fifth are recovered, I will compensate with golden coins.”

Aegor’s conditions were quite harsh, but for an artisan at Tobho Mott’s level, making money was no longer his life goal and ideal. The experience of forging a real, complete Valyrian steel sword itself was already a huge reward.

The shop owner did not hesitate. “Good. But please allow me to prepare. I am not familiar with the conditions in the Gift. Forging a Valyrian steel sword requires complete and good forging facilities and environment, as well as a lot of unusual tools.”

“Crown Town has all the forging facilities and environment you need, and I can borrow what is missing from Winterfell. As for the tools, do you not practice regularly? Are you not prepared? I remember telling the person I sent to make it clear, either agree and leave with me immediately, or I will keep that complete sword as a family heirloom.”

This was not a negotiation tactic or a threat. Aegor had truly decided this. Melting Dark Sister into arrowheads and renaming it was originally a whim without any reason. He could not waste even a single day on such a casual move at this critical juncture.

Using the influence of that famous prophecy and directly renaming the sword Lightbringer would achieve no less effect.

Tobho Mott pursed his lips, struggling internally for more than ten seconds under everyone’s gaze, and finally decided not to let this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity slip away. “Alright, please allow me a moment to explain the shop’s operations and follow-up work, and then we will depart immediately. Gendry! Go and get that small box under my bed, then prepare two horses and come with me to the Wall!”

(To be continued.)

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep