The Black Dragon's fief, the prince's crown

The sounds of the Red Keep 'Small Council still lingered in the air when Daemon's footsteps echoed from outside the hall. It wasn't the carefree, lighthearted sound of Daemon Targaryen, but a steady, steady sound, like the gentle friction of dragon scales against the rocks, a prelude to the Black Tide washing over the reefs.

Everyone turned their heads in unison, and saw him pass through the curtain, his long silver-gold hair gleaming coldly in the morning light. His deep purple eyes swept over the three maps on the long table, and finally, as if he had been prepared, landed on the map of Crab Claw Peninsula marked with "wasteland to be cultivated", "swamp" and "pine forest".

The Blackfyre was slung across his waist, and the dragon pattern on the scabbard was made even clearer by the light, as if it were echoing his choice.

I choose Crab Claw Peninsula.

One sentence instantly silenced all the whispers in the hall.

Jaehaerys's hand, which was pressed against his forehead, paused. A hint of approval flashed in Baelon's eyes. Otto's fingers suddenly clenched the scroll, his knuckles turning white.

Daemon walked to the long table, his fingertips lightly pressing on the map of Crab Claw Peninsula, tracing the map from Crab Bay in the northeast corner of the Crownlands to Blackwater Bay in the southwest. His voice was as steady as the deep currents of the Narrow Sea: "Bloodstone Island is barren, and it involves the interests of the Joint Fleet and the feudal lords, only adding to the turmoil;

In the Summerhall borders Dorne, a place ravaged by war year-round. Gael should not be confined to the smoke and fire of the frontier.

Crab Claw Peninsula, seemingly barren, actually holds endless possibilities.

He raised his eyes, his gaze sweeping over Otto, his tone carrying an undeniable certainty. "This place has a long coastline, suitable for building deep-water harbors, connecting to White Harbor in the north, King's King's Landing in the south, and the Narrow Sea route in the east. It will become the trading hub of northeastern Westeros in the future."

Although the inland areas are mostly swamps and pine forests, there are large tracts of wasteland waiting to be cultivated. The artisans and refugees gathered by Tyrosh after their surrender can be put to good use.

The families of Brune and Crabb on the peninsula, whom I fought alongside against the Wildlings during my travels years ago, are now under the Iron Throne's decree of expansion. Combined with the dragon's might and vested interests, they will not be difficult to unite.

As for those mountain natives and Wildlings, if they surrender, they will become laborers; if they resist, they will be intimidated by the Dragonfire of their Glutton. How can we not transform the wilderness into fertile land?

"Besides all that, Your Little Daemon, do you know anything about the Crab Claw Peninsula?" Otto Hightower forcibly suppressed his unease, then feigned composure and solemnly quoted records from ancient texts to "admonish" him, "The descendants of their First Men are unruly, and their family feuds run as deep as a swamp. Even the Andals military lords, the House Darklyn, and the House Mooton have failed to completely subdue them. Why do you think you can, Your Highness?"

"I'm not here to conquer, but to build together." Daemon sneered, gently gripping the hilt of the Blackfyre. "They don't trust outsiders, yet they revere dragons; they don't obey their lords, yet they crave stability."

I will give them land so they can cultivate it; I will give them workshops so they can make a living;

To grant them laws and resolve their blood feud, they must first pledge allegiance to the Iron Throne and bow to the Targaryen dragon banner.

As for those historical losers, they had no dragons, no expansion orders, and no ability to integrate the resources of the Seven Kingdoms. How could they compare to me?

He turned to look at Jaehaerys, his deep purple eyes filled with sharpness. "Grandfather, the pioneering order I need is not only the right to cultivate wasteland, but also the right to build my own castle on Crab Claw Peninsula, appoint my own tax collectors, and independently command my own private army."

Within three years, I will build a new city on the southern coast of the peninsula, bordering the Narrow Sea to the east and the Crownlands to the west, making it a more prosperous port than Duskendale and a more fortified barrier than Maidenpool.

At that time, Crab Claw Peninsula will no longer be a wild and untamed land on the edge of the Crownlands, but a strategic location where the Iron Throne controls the northeast of the Narrow Sea. Isn't that more valuable than being trapped on Bloodstone Island and mired in the conflicts of Summerhall?

Jaehaerys remained silent for a long time, his fingertips lightly tapping the scepter.

He recalled the history of the War of War of Conquest, when Queen Visenya subdued Crab Claw Peninsula, and the awe and reverence of those "half- Wildlings" lords kneeling before her. Daemon was about to do now was a more thorough expansion than simply appeasing them; it was to truly Targaryen the wildlands under the control of the Targaryens.

Baelon chimed in softly, "Little Daemon is absolutely right. Although Crab Claw Peninsula is close to King's King's Landing, it has swamps and pine forests as natural barriers, posing no threat to the Crownlands while serving as a buffer for the royal family. With the Glutton keeping things in check, and the support of families like Brune and Crabb, we're sure to succeed."

"Granted." Jaehaerys finally nodded, slamming his scepter heavily on the ground. "He grants Daemon Blackfyre Targaryen the right to choose any part of the Crab Claw Peninsula as his fief, bestows upon him the title of Prince, grants him the Expansion Order, and authorizes him to build his own castle, appoint his own tax collectors, and command his own private army."

The Iron Throne grants you 5,000 golden dragons, 3,000 people recruited from Tyrosh after the war, and 500 Myr artisans to aid your initial expansion.

If Crab Claw Peninsula can achieve initial scale within three years, then the title of "Guardian of Crab Claw Peninsula" will be bestowed upon it.

And remember your words, my daughter Gael should not be trapped in the smoke of war on the frontier.

Crab Claw Peninsula isn't far; if you don't Gael to visit me and your grandmother more often—"

"Thank you, Grandfather! Your grandson will certainly follow the teachings of Your Majesty, the the Conciliator." Daemon bowed and flattered the king, mimicking the others, a hint of a smile flashing in his eyes.

He knew that in this struggle for fiefdom, he had not only won a seemingly barren but infinitely potential land, but also the right to develop it independently. This land was several times larger than the Blackwater Rush Territory that Daeron had given him in his previous life, and it offered him a greater chance to build his own "King's Landing."

Otto stood there, his face ashen.

He hadn't expected that Daemon would not only dare to choose Crab Claw Peninsula, but also persuade Jaehaerys to grant such generous permissions.

According to the Black Dragon, once that despised and untamed land is integrated, it will become the Black Dragon's most solid foundation, making it even more difficult for Viserys to control the Black Dragon after he ascends to the throne.

He subtly winked at Mund Hightower behind him, Mund understood and scribbled something down in his sleeve.

Corlys and Taimond exchanged a glance, both seeing calculation in each other's eyes.

Corlys thought that once the port on the Crab Claw Peninsula was built, the House Velaryon silver ships would have another trade route;

Taimond, meanwhile, was planning to take advantage of the opportunity to seize the mining rights on the peninsula by the Smith' guild in the Westerlands, since there might be many untapped treasures hidden beneath the swamps there.

"Congratulations, Little Daemon!" Daemon Targaryen finally joined today's Small Council. He swayed over from the doorway, spitting out the straw in his mouth, and expertly put his arm around Daemon's shoulder. "Crab Claw Peninsula may be remote, but it's big enough for you to mess around in. Don't chase me away when I ride Caraxes to hunt wild boars!"

"You're welcome anytime, just don't burn down my port."

Daemon responded with a smile, but his gaze caught sight of Larys in the corner outside the hall.

Larys, leaning on his cane, a sly smile playing on his lips, nodded slightly to him, clearly understanding his intentions.

By consolidating the power of the Crab Claw Peninsula and secretly cultivating its own strength, it serves as a springboard for conquering Essos on the other side of the Narrow Sea in the future, and also helps it weather future storms.

After the meeting, Daemon had just stepped out of the council chamber when Gael, lifting her skirt, hurried over, her light purple eyes filled with joy. "I knew you'd choose Crab Claw Peninsula! Jocelyn's mother was worried it was too harsh there, but I told her that with you here, even the most desolate place can become a garden."

"Then you'd better be prepared, it looks like you'll be going to suffer with me for the next few years." Daemon held her hand, the warmth of his palm seeping through his fingertips.

Although Gael unintentionally revealed her reluctance to "leave home too far," and Daemon's choice of the Crab Claw Peninsula as the main reason for this choice, there must be some underlying reasons, right?

After all, for this Black Dragon from a century in the future, his Targaryen family and the hard-won kinship in King's Landing were also a kind of "home" he couldn't bear to leave too far behind.

"I'm not afraid." Gael looked up at him, her eyes shining. "As long as I'm with you, I'm willing to live in a tent and eat coarse grains. By the way, Vaegon said the stars are good this month, and next month is a good time to start building the castle. We can build the castle on High Hermitage by the sea, overlooking the harbor and protecting it from the sea winds."

Daemon smiled and nodded, already sketching out the outline of the new city in his mind:

Build a harbor by the sea, fortresses on the high slopes, workshops and residences around the castles, dig drainage channels along the edges of the swamps, establish hunting grounds and mines in the pine forests, use artisans from Myr and Tyrosh to build stone houses, use surrendered Wildlings to cultivate the wasteland, use the private armies of Brune and Crabb to maintain order, and have surrendered pirates patrol and protect the sea frontier. In less than three years, no, perhaps not even three years, that place will surely be completely transformed by its own reclamation.

He turned to look at Jarman Waters and Larys, who had followed him, and whispered, "Jarman, have a few brothers from the Dark Blade Guard who are easy to deal with go to Crab Claw Peninsula to scout the terrain, mark the locations of ports, castles, and workshops, and find out the distribution of various families and natives;

Larys, you will remain in King's Landing for now to coordinate the allocation of resources to the Iron Throne, and at the same time gather information on the blood feuds and conflicts of interest among the various families of Crab Claw Peninsula. I need to know every key figure I can either win over or suppress.

In a few days, I may resign from my position as Minister of Intelligence, but you can rest assured that my nominee will be one of our own, and he will certainly cooperate with your work.

Moreover, I know about your little mice in King's Landing. Even if we leave King's Landing, I will still need you to use your talents to keep all the intelligence in King's Landing under our control!

In addition, have Rupert Crabb contact his father and brother to inform Berna Brune to reorganize the forces at Dyre Den. In three days, I will lead the first group of refugees and artisans to Crab Claw Peninsula.

As for our Lord Otto, there's no need to worry about his and Sir Leonno's positions Hand of the King of the Court. Only one of them will remain. Even if he's lucky enough to keep his position, Sir Leonno will share his power, and he'll be hampered by the other ministers of the Small Council."

"Your Highness, rest assured," Jarman bowed and replied, his single eye scanning the surroundings warily, keeping a watchful eye on Otto's movements in the distance.

Larys smiled and nodded, tapping his cane on the ground. "Your Highness's new city and port will surely become the most dazzling jewel on the east coast of Westeros."

By the way, Alys Rivers just sent word that she's familiar with the mountain paths of Crab Claw Peninsula and wants to accompany you to help you subdue the natives.

Daemon frowned slightly. Alys Rivers's mystery had always made him wary, but this enigmatic "swamp witch" did indeed possess useful knowledge and medical skills, as well as an understanding of certain things, not to mention her other unpredictable and mysterious special abilities.

"Let her come," he said after a moment's thought. "I'll keep an eye on her myself, but she needs to report to me beforehand what she requires."

A knowing glint of amusement flashed in Larys's eyes as he bowed in agreement.

Three days later, the docks of King's Landing's Landing were packed with people.

Besides the five thousand golden dragons, there were countless grains, tools, and building materials; three thousand Tyrosh women and children dressed in uniform clothing; and five hundred craftsmen carrying toolboxes. These were far more valuable than the five thousand golden dragons on the surface.

Gael rode Dreamfyre, Daemon rode Glutton, and Grey Ghost curled up on Daemon's shoulder, a piece of honey cake Gael had just given him dangling from its mouth.

Jaehaerys, Alysanne, Baelon, Jocelyn, and others saw him off in person. Jocelyn held Daemon's hand, tears welling up in her eyes. "Remember to take care of yourself and Gael. If you need anything, immediately send a raven back to King's Landing."

"Don't worry, Mother. Besides, I'll be back in a few days for the Small Council." Daemon hugged her and climbed onto the dragon's back.

The Glutton let out a deep dragon roar, spread its jet-black wings, and Dreamfyre followed closely behind, its pale blue Dragonfire gleaming in the morning light.

The three transport ships of the Joint Fleet also raised their sails, carrying refugees, craftsmen, and supplies, and headed towards the Crab Claw Peninsula.

Daemon looked down and saw the Red Keep of King's Landing's Landing gradually shrink, the outline of the Crab Claw Peninsula emerging at the end of the Narrow Sea —there were dense pine forests, vast swamps, a long coastline, and countless wastelands waiting to be cultivated.

At this moment, he gripped the Blackfyre at his waist with one hand, his heart filled with determination.

In his past life, a hundred years later, he was Blackfyre, who instigated a rebellion, ultimately dying on the battlefield and suffering complete disgrace.

In this life, a hundred years ago, he would be a Targaryen prince, wielding dragons and power, ultimately expanding his territory.

This desolate land, in the eyes of the world, will be the starting point for him to rewrite his destiny once again, and the foundation for him to protect Gael, stop the Dance of the Dragons, conquer the other side of the Narrow Sea, and deal with the future invasion of the White Walkers.

On the distant Narrow Sea, sunlight spills onto the waves, like scattered gold flowing.

Daemon knew that the road ahead would not be smooth. The scheming of nobles like Otto, the family feuds, and the shadow of the unknown White Walkers still existed. But as long as he had dragons, Gael and the others, and his loyal followers, he could turn this wilderness into an eternal territory belonging to the Targaryen, and the strongest barrier in Westeros.

The wind from Crab Claw Peninsula, carrying the dampness of the swamp and the fresh scent of pine forest, blows in your face.

Daemon took a deep breath, a sharp glint in his eyes—the foundation of the new city was about to break ground today; his era was about to begin in this desolate land.