After the catastrophe.

Alongside the vigorous post-war reconstruction, tense and orderly preparations for war were also underway.

Due to its recent founding, the Gift has no culture of its own. Other than the history of the Night’s Watch and the thrilling war just ended, there are no stories to speak of. A lack of foundation often leads to weak unity. Fortunately, the Gift possesses other advantages to make up for these shortcomings.

There are no deeply entrenched interest groups with tangled relationships here. The minor frictions and disputes between the few existing tribes have vanished under the weight of law and the pressure of a common threat. In the face of humanity’s natural enemy, all are brothers and comrades-in-arms. With a clear goal and direction, the people unite. The resistance is negligible. At this moment, the entire strength of the region is focused in the same direction, under the command of the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch.

After a “long and meticulous search and reconnaissance,” the army’s official spokesperson finally “reluctantly” announced: Based on clues gathered and analyzed by the Rangers, the remaining White Walkers who survived the Battle of Long Lake have retreated Beyond the Wall through hidden paths, mountain passes, and the breach torn open in the Great Canyon defense line during the enemy assault.

To avenge fallen comrades, to reclaim the vast and fertile lands of the North, and more importantly, to ensure the safety of future generations, the highest command of the Night’s Watch passed a formal resolution. The rumors were now formalized into an operational plan with a confirmed timetable. The army would organize an elite force next month to cross the Wall and pursue the final enemies until they are entirely wiped out, bringing a conclusive end to this epic war.

The sworn black brothers, the followers of the Red God fighting for their faith, the former wildlings eager to return Beyond the Wall and regain their “freedom,” and the Gift soldiers who had hoped to earn glory but had failed to slay a White Walker… tens of thousands of hearts now beat with excitement at the thought of this glorious expedition. Their simple minds cannot fathom this: if the dragonglass weapons were replaced with ordinary steel, and the obsidian fragments in the bombs swapped for iron nails, then all the preparations made by the citizens of the Gift to eradicate White Walkers could, with a single command, be turned toward a campaign to the South. The testing grounds are already roaring, and the new weapon, said to be the nemesis of the White Walkers, is far more efficient at crushing flesh and breaking stone fortresses than killing the dead.

Under the fiery and inspiring atmosphere, undercurrents were quietly beginning to stir.

—

Years ago, Aegor tossed out a few sheets of paper in King’s Landing and used the power of rumors to incite rebellion in the Vale, forcing Littlefinger to retreat. Not only did he exceed his objectives in unexpected ways, but the most remarkable part was that no second person in the world was involved. There was almost no chance the secret would leak.

Now, he wanted to begin an unjust war. “Repaying the Queen’s kindness” gave the Night’s Watch an excuse to abandon neutrality. But convincing the citizens of the Gift not to object was far from enough. While preparing materially, Aegor also needed to win over the hearts and minds of the people under his rule to support the looming campaign to the South.

The three Stark women had already departed for Winterfell under escort, and dozens of small “Lightbringers” were dispatched to the various corners of the Seven Kingdoms as the Night’s Watch’s image ambassadors. But beyond these gestures of goodwill and public diplomacy, Aegor once again required the sharp blade of rumor to boost morale.

No one can guide public opinion alone forever without being noticed. Aegor now stood at the center of power, with countless eyes watching his every move. It was no longer feasible for him to handle such dirty work personally. So he had long since begun investing in his own media dissemination and propaganda networks. The “Night’s Watch Propaganda Department,” a department that does not appear on any official records, was responsible for the repeated promotion of the “Beyond the Wall Expedition” even before the command had officially announced it. Their efforts kept the topic alive in the minds of the Gift’s citizens.

Beyond gauging public sentiment and creating the illusion of strategic transparency, this was also a test operation—another in a long series of practical drills for the Night’s Watch Propaganda Department, which had been secretly cultivated over time.

The operation was, once again, a complete success. It proved the department’s efficiency and capacity to execute orders. Encouraged by this, Aegor began to wield this invisible weapon more boldly, stabbing at enemies with blades no one could see.

Silently, another new rumor began to spread, just like the last. Among the citizens sharpening their weapons and brimming with killing intent, a new tale spread like wildfire: that the King on the Iron Throne, and many lords who had never set foot north of the Neck, were enjoying the peace and safety provided by the Gift, yet had not expressed any support for the Night’s Watch’s plan to march Beyond the Wall.

Some were even quietly plotting. After the upcoming expedition, they intended to order the mountain clans to return to their old homes and simultaneously command the Night’s Watch to drive all the wildlings they had accepted back Beyond the Wall.

…

Stannis had always been a man of action, not words. He wouldn’t, and couldn’t, risk offending the North by vetoing something Robb Stark had already approved. Not to mention, he was now consumed by how to handle the threat of “two Targaryens” and how to save King’s Landing and the throne. He had neither the time nor the courage to care about the Gift, so far away.

The claim had no reliable source and was inherently illogical. Anyone with a bit of sense could tell it was a rumor. But human reason is often inversely proportional to anger. The people of the Gift, survivors of the war, rarely exploded with rage. But when they heard this, how many could remain calm and rational?

The people didn’t expect nobles they’d never met to thank them, but they absolutely could not stomach the insult of being used and then abandoned. Many wildlings didn’t care about life south of the Wall and were eager to return north, even if they weren’t driven out. But choosing to leave voluntarily is one thing. Being kicked out like stray dogs is another.

Soon, anger swept out from Crown Town like a tidal wave.

The rumor had been released. What Aegor needed to do now was let it ferment. Once it spread far and wide, and public opinion could no longer be controlled, he would step forward and strike. He would harvest the destructive force, shifting the “Beyond the Wall Expedition” into the “Southern Campaign” seamlessly, as if it had always been the plan.

—

Grand momentum was necessary, but small-scale adjustments were just as crucial.

Asha Greyjoy wasn’t the only one to come to Aegor’s office to negotiate. In the days that followed, Aegor continued to meet with the leaders of every faction in the Gift, some seeking him out, others summoned.

He certainly didn’t tell them directly, “The Beyond the Wall Expedition is a ruse. I’m preparing to march south and hope you’ll bring your men.” Instead, he gave subtle hints, using every means to ensure that anyone capable of influencing the outcome of the coming storm—if not an ally—would at least not become an enemy.

As Ser Denys Mallister once said at the Shadow Tower, anything can be traded, so long as the time is right and the price is fair.

From that perspective, politics is much like business. The difference is that merchants trade in goods and coin, while politicians use anything imaginable to form alliances.

For the mountain clans who had supported him from the beginning, Aegor chose appeasement. He reaffirmed that the original agreement still stood. The Gift would always be their home. For the wildling tribes willing to give up their nomadic life Beyond the Wall in exchange for shelter and supplies, he promised that their citizenship would always be recognized and they would never be expelled. For those still craving “freedom” and unwilling to bend the knee, Aegor proposed a peaceful parting: once the North was secured, they would be allowed to return home and even receive a “severance payment” to avoid starting from nothing again. If business could not be done, at least relationships should remain civil. If they could not be kin, then let them not be enemies.

Within the Night’s Watch itself: to conservatives wary of the future, Aegor swore that even if he fought for the Queen, he would prioritize the Watch’s core duty of guarding the Wall. The Black Cloaks would not be dissolved. For those who remained neutral, unwilling to get involved in the war of the Seven Kingdoms, he guaranteed they would not be forced into it. They needed only to remain at their posts. And to those with ambition and ability, those wishing to break free from fate and become more, Aegor carefully revealed fragments of his plan and promised the rewards they desired, while quietly preparing them—both physically and mentally—for what was to come.

In his plan to place the Queen on the throne, Aegor had drafted arrangements to knock many nobles off the game board. This was not only to fulfill Daenerys’s desire to “break the wheel,” but also for another reason. The wealth, lands, and titles of those soon-to-fall nobles, combined with the assets of the Gift, had already been written into promissory notes, some real, some hollow. Now, he was deliberately spreading these notes, buying loyalty, followers, allies, and strength, and securing promises from the neutral not to interfere at the crucial moment.

…

Another busy day ended. Aegor sat behind his desk, sipping hot soup as he listened to Humfrey’s report.

“The rumor is spreading across Crown Town. Some people have already gathered outside the inner keep gates demanding a statement. The guards dispersed them, but for now the effect is still limited to the surrounding area. I estimate it will take another one to two weeks to reach the rest of the Gift. The Propaganda Department could act to accelerate this, but that would expose us. If the wrong person notices…”

“No, don’t act. Let it spread naturally.” Rumors are easy to start but hard to stop. They function like an open conspiracy and don’t fear outside interference. Aegor didn’t care about so-called enemies catching wind of it. According to his plan, two weeks was ideal. “Issue some semi-official statements under your own name. Keep the rumor from burning too hot before the time is right.”

“Understood.” Humfrey followed his thinking without needing much explanation. “Also, Lady Asha has submitted a list. She’s requesting supplies and equipment, along with a few trusted personnel.”

Aegor glanced at the list. Everything on it was ordinary. The Gift was not limitless, but it certainly wasn’t short on this. As for the people, the list included a few Ironborn sailors captured with her during the Battle of the Coast. Clearly, these were her trusted crew.

“Give her everything. Count the supplies at one thousand golden dragons. You can set the unit prices afterward.” In truth, even with wartime inflation, the items could be bought for a hundred golden dragons in a larger city. But Aegor wasn’t running a charity. “For the personnel, one hundred golden dragons each. As for whether they ‘escaped’ or were ‘released,’ work it out with her.”

“Alright. One more thing. She asked whether Crown Town has poisons or someone skilled in using or making them.”

“Poison?” Aegor smirked. It seemed she was preparing to poison her uncle as a backup. “Did you ask the healers?”

“I did. All shook their heads. Only Maester Qyburn said he’s ‘somewhat proficient in medicinal theory.’ But he’s busy with the Powder Granulation Project. What do you think?”

If Humfrey hadn’t mentioned it, Aegor would’ve forgotten that although Qyburn had been brought in for his saltpeter expertise, he was an all-around lunatic inventor. If he claimed to be slightly proficient, he was likely being modest.

“Have him provide advice and assistance to Lady Greyjoy, so long as it doesn’t delay his main duties. His services as advisor can be counted at one thousand golden dragons. If he actually produces poison, consider it a bonus.”

“Heh, Maester Qyburn will be quite pleased to hear his work is worth so much.” Humfrey chuckled, then changed the subject. “One more matter. A small merchant caravan arrived from the South today. At dusk, one of them approached the inner keep gate, requesting to speak with you. He claimed to carry an important message from Winterfell and insisted on delivering it in private. I found him evasive and suspicious, so I had him detained. Should we see him, or send him away?”

(To be continued.)

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep