In this world, can one truly get anywhere without noble status? While the statement might sound absolute, it is almost always true in Westeros. No one is born untouchable. Once you enter this world, you have to play by its rules. But Aegor saw beyond the surface, past the aristocratic system that seemed to define everything. The noble system was merely a visible layer of the game in Westeros. Beneath it lay the deeper, more fundamental rules: every problem was ultimately one of resources and power.

Take the messenger from the Iron Bank, for example. He was just an ordinary clerk, yet even Queen Cersei, who had purged all her political opponents and wielded supreme power in King’s Landing, had to treat him with courtesy. Was it because of his title? No, it was because he represented the immense resources of Braavos across the narrow sea. Or look at the High Sparrow, whose rise to power caused so many kings and queens untold trouble. Was his influence derived from his title or the favor of the Seven Gods? No—it stemmed from his armed followers and the public’s support, combined with the weaknesses of his enemies.

Even Littlefinger, after being granted Harrenhal, became one of the highest-ranking nobles in Westeros. But if he hadn’t already forged ties with the Lady of the Vale, what would his noble title have truly amounted to?

In the end, nobility in Westeros was a tool for controlling resources, not the source of power itself. In this world, control over resources came first; nobility followed after.

Once you understood this cause-and-effect relationship, the path forward became clear. If Aegor could amass resources, even if he spent his entire life branded as a member of the Night’s Watch, legally no better than a common soldier he could still achieve great things with a mere gesture.

Firmly believing this, Aegor began to plan.

…

His initial strategy had been simple: use a Ponzi scheme to amass capital, channeling the profits into supplies for the Night’s Watch while strategically placing people loyal to him within its ranks. Slowly but steadily, he intended to make the Watch dependent on him, both materially and ideologically. This would ensure his personal safety and grant him freedom of action.

With that foundation secured, he could then use his resources and advanced knowledge to establish a vast network of influence throughout Westeros. When the time was right, he would carefully leverage his power to participate in the Game of Thrones, remove the shackles of his Night’s Watch identity, and ultimately explore the possibility of reversing his time travel.

—

Aegor had laid out this ambitious plan, eager to employ his wisdom and knowledge in navigating the chaotic world of Westeros. But before he could even begin, Melisandre had appeared and in doing so, had pulled back the curtain on this world, revealing a greater and far more terrifying truth beneath its surface.

A month ago, Aegor had doubted the existence of “fate” when he failed to prevent Bran Stark’s fall. But when Tyrion successfully returned to King’s Landing, it overturned his earlier suspicions. Convinced that there was no such thing as destiny or divine interference in this world, Aegor had grown ambitious, crafting an enormous plan to reshape Westeros and rewrite its history.

But now, Melisandre’s words hit him like a hammer to the head. Supernatural powers did exist, and they were influencing the mortal realm. Tyrion’s return hadn’t disproved this; it simply meant that the gods had been too preoccupied elsewhere to interfere.

Aegor felt like a child, quietly preparing to play games or watch movies in his room, only to look up and notice a camera on the ceiling. The excitement drained from him immediately. Who could remain cheerful while being watched, scrutinized from all angles by an all-seeing, father-like presence?

…

Melisandre observed Aegor’s prolonged silence and mistook it for fear. She inwardly scoffed. Even a man who had faced White Walkers and killed one trembled when confronted with true supernatural power.

“Do you have any other questions?” she asked, keeping her tone neutral. After all, it was natural for mortals to fear the extraordinary. She herself had felt this awe before. “Since I’ve been so forthcoming, would it be acceptable if I asked a few questions in return?”

Aegor’s plans needed to change. It wasn’t enough to keep a low profile in the eyes of Westeros’s nobility; he now realized he would also need to stay under the radar of the “demigods” and “gods” that influenced this world. Half of the plans he had painstakingly crafted could be scrapped right then and there.

“Ask,” he said, his voice calm despite the turmoil inside. “I’ll tell you everything I know.”

—

Over the next half hour, Aegor and Melisandre exchanged questions and answers. Though still somewhat shaken, Aegor forced himself to maintain composure. To his relief, all of Melisandre’s inquiries focused on matters Beyond the Wall and at the Wall itself. This meant she hadn’t doubted his identity as an ordinary ranger of the Night’s Watch. So long as he told the truth, there was no need to fabricate any stories or risk exposing himself.

By the time their conversation ended, the Red Priestess wore a somber expression, clearly deep in thought. Aegor, meanwhile, used the brief reprieve to steady himself and work through his panic.

At last, reason returned—belated, but better late than never. Aegor realized that conspiracy theories could explain everything, but leaning too heavily on them was a sure way to scare himself into paralysis. He had deceived plenty of key figures in this world using half-truths and misdirection. Who was to say Melisandre wasn’t doing the same?

And even if she believed what she said, it didn’t necessarily mean it was true. As a devout follower of the Red God, Melisandre might very well be brainwashed, no different from Jojen Reed, who was manipulated by his green dreams.

Was the Red God real? Was Melisandre simply another pawn in the game of a higher power?

It was possible that many events in the original plot had indeed been orchestrated or influenced by supernatural beings. But if Aegor started viewing everyone and everything through that lens wondering which god they served, or what divine agenda they represented he would end up paralyzed. Better to abandon such thoughts entirely and focus on what was within his grasp: surviving, building his influence, and continuing his fight against the White Walkers.

Even if there really is a group of beings quietly influencing the real world on a subconscious level, if there’s no way to identify who they’ve affected or what these gods actually want, then how different are they from not existing at all?

Regardless of these transcendent forces, the plan remains the same! Just a few adjustments to make oneself more low-key.

Aegor’s thoughts were clear, and he quickly formulated a countermeasure: from now on, he would need to pretend to be a loyal and upright Night’s Watchman, not only when meeting outsiders but even when no one was watching. Compared to acting recklessly for selfish goals, standing firmly against the White Walkers might not bring immediate benefits, but it would at least ensure that the Lord of Light and his followers wouldn’t target him without cause.

As a mortal, I am far too weak, not even qualified to remain neutral in this conflict. What a predicament.

“The God of Cold is moving faster than we expected,” Melisandre said, unaware of Aegor’s inner thoughts. She had her own troubles. “Thankfully, the Lord of Light has shown me in the flames that the Great Wall can block the power of the God of Cold and his servants. We still have time to prepare before winter comes and the sea freezes over.” She raised her head and looked at Aegor, her demeanor growing serious as she shook off any unnecessary expressions. “So, my friend in black, is there anything I can do to help the Night’s Watch?”

Aegor met her gaze. After everything the accusations of heresy, the bloodletting, and the tension, things finally seemed to be back on track. At the very least, Melisandre wasn’t lying about wanting to help the Night’s Watch. Unfortunately, Dragonstone had limited resources. The island couldn’t provide food or weapons, and Melisandre didn’t have a large following of her own. Unless she was willing to abandon Stannis, whom she mistakenly believed to be the reincarnation of Azor Ahai and head north to the Wall herself, her ability to help would be limited.

As he stared at the priestess, her face serious and sincere, a question began to form in Aegor’s mind, growing larger and heavier: was the struggle between these gods truly a battle for survival, or was it simply a game, a competition among themselves? In the eyes of these higher beings, were the White Walkers, the Night’s Watch, and even priests like Melisandre merely soldiers and weapons in a war or were they pawns, used in passing, to amuse these gods in their spare time?

If he could figure this out, his plans could be revised with far greater precision and clarity.

Unfortunately, even if Melisandre was a devout servant of the Lord of Light, there was no way she could know secrets on this level.

“The Great Wall lacks everything,” Aegor finally said, sighing and shaking his head. “But what it needs most right now is people, food, and equipment. I was sent here to address that. But I think Dragonstone is in no better position than the Night’s Watch. If you truly wish to help, then focus on ensuring the mining of obsidian progresses smoothly.”

“No problem.”

Wait. Dragonglass. Aegor’s eyes widened slightly as a thought struck him. How could he have overlooked something so important? “I almost forgot to ask,” he said quickly, leaning forward slightly. “Do you know how the dragonglass dagger kills White Walkers? If we can figure out the secret behind it, we might be able to find other ways to deal with these creatures.”

***

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep