The lord by the sea

Westeros, the North, Sea Dragon Point, Flint's Finger Castle.

A faint salty tang mingled with the sea breeze as evening approached. Once the sun sank entirely below the horizon, the evening clouds looked like the blood-dripping maw of some terrible monster, always leaving people uneasy and uncertain.

At that moment, in the attic of a lofty tower atop the castle on the seaside cliffs, Edd Flint stared blankly at the fading glow in the distance. Although he had grown accustomed to his current identity and circumstances after more than a month of adjustment, whenever he thought of the terrible future awaiting him, his heart filled with uncertainty and helplessness.

The real Edd Flint had died more than a month ago. The soul now inhabiting his body belonged to a Chinese wage slave from Blue Star. This young Chinese man, named Li Ke, had fallen victim to a telecom scam. Unable to come to terms with it, he had died of anger in his rented room.

Introverted and timid, and having grown up alone in an orphanage, Li Ke had always suffered from low self-esteem. A humanities student, he had begun a miserable working life after muddling through junior college. He had planned to save some money and return to the countryside, only to fall victim to a telecom scam. After those bastards sweet-talked him, Li Ke handed over all his savings. By the time he came to his senses, it was already too late.

After the initial helplessness and uncertainty, Li Ke gradually grew accustomed to his identity as Edd Flint. He accepted the name Edd Flint and became the lord of this castle and the head of House Flint.

"Knock, knock, knock..."

Just then, a soft knock brought Edd Flint back from his thoughts. He turned to look behind him and spoke toward the wooden door.

"Come in!"

The language of this world sounded somewhat like the ancient language of Britain on Blue Star. With the influence of the original owner's memories, Eddard quickly grew accustomed to speaking it. He had also inherited the original owner's memories, learning something about this world and the continent where he now lived.

"Creeeak..."

Although the grooves of the old wooden attic door had been greased with lard, it still made a teeth-grating noise when opened. Eddard, accustomed to modern life, found this deeply unpleasant.

That was precisely why Eddard had been writing down the knowledge of Blue Star he remembered in this attic. As time passed, some memories of his previous life would surely be affected by this world and gradually fade from his mind.

To survive in this cruel world, and to live a better life, Eddard had been doing all he could to squeeze out his meager store of modern knowledge and record it, hoping it could bring him wealth and power.

As the wooden attic door opened, a bald old man appeared before Eddard. He looked about fifty, and time had left deep wrinkles across his cheeks. Though he looked very old, his eyes were remarkably lively, almost seeming to reflect the dim candlelight.

The old man wore a gray robe over his slightly stooped body, its style much like the robes worn by religious believers during Blue Star's Middle Ages. A chain of links made from various metals hung around his neck. As he walked, the intermittent clinking reached Eddard's ears like some peculiar kind of music.

"Lord Eddard, I have told you before. Young though you are, writing for long periods in dim light will continually damage your eyes. I still hope you will retire earlier!"

After glancing at the dim light in the room and the paper and pen on the desk, he spoke to Eddard.

Though his voice was somewhat hoarse and shrill, his words were full of concern for Eddard. "Maester Albert, I stopped writing early. You needn't worry. I will take care."

Eddard answered Maester Albert. As he spoke, he walked quite naturally to the desk and put away the pages he had written.

Although Eddard was not quite sure why Maester Albert had suddenly come here, he invited him in quite naturally so as not to make a deliberate show of concealing certain "secrets." Just as the old maester turned his gaze toward the desk, Eddard spoke.

"Maester, it is already so late. You could easily have given it to me tomorrow. Besides, shouldn't you be resting in the rookery?"

Maesters held a very special occupation in this world. They were among the most important members of a castle's household, serving as the lord's advisers and personal physicians. Most maesters in the castles of Westeros came from a special organization called the Citadel.

Maesters called themselves servants of knowledge and civilization. Once formally becoming maesters, they were forbidden to marry or have children. In some respects, they resembled the monks of the medieval Church on Blue Star. Many noble younger sons without inheritance rights, as well as commoners unable to make a living, chose to become maesters.

The profession could raise them above others. Some maesters could even become personal advisers to kings, with the authority to handle affairs of state.

It was worth mentioning that Eddard had almost become one of them. As a younger son, he had originally had no right of inheritance. But several months earlier, his elder brother, father, and mother had died of a "fever," a disease in this world somewhat resembling a cold. With the family lacking an heir, he had ended his studies at the Citadel and come to this coastal domain, a place known as Flint's Finger.

"Lord Eddard, I have found the book you requested, Maester Child's Genealogies and Legends of House Stark of Winterfell. Since you have spent all this time writing in the tower lately, I came to see how you were doing."

Maester Albert glanced briefly at the papers behind Eddard before speaking to him.

Maester Albert had served House Flint for more than twenty years, and he had delivered Eddard himself. House Flint was an ancient noble house of the North in Westeros, with the ancient blood of the First Men flowing through its veins.

House Flint was an ancient clan of the First Men, and Flint's Finger was its ancestral land. It lay in the western North of Westeros, bordering the Sunset Sea to the west and the Neck of the North to the east, a vast peninsula extending from the continent of Westeros.

After receiving his predecessor's memories, Eddard had learned something about the world he inhabited, particularly the continent where he lived.

This continent was connected to a television series Eddard had watched in his previous life. But so much time had passed that only a few hazy fragments remained in his memory.

Certain specific people and events, however, remained very clear in Eddard's mind. This was a brutal world, a continent filled with violence and death. Without great strength and the backing of a bloodline, ordinary people found it difficult to survive here.

Moreover, somewhere in a mysterious region north of the North lived a powerful race, the Others. Like the necromancers in certain online games, they could control corpses. In the later stages of the television series, they had unleashed a terrible disaster resembling an "undead scourge."

After learning that he had come to such a world, Eddard's first concern had been how to live safely and peacefully here, rather than how to slaughter his way across it. His first thought, therefore, had been to develop his lands and advance their technology.

But after wringing his mind dry of the knowledge and memories of his previous life, Eddard discovered, to his embarrassment, that he had given all his knowledge of mathematics, physics, and chemistry back to his teachers. Once, he had considered choosing the humanities a very wise decision. Now, however, he truly wished he could return to that time and choose his field of study again.

It was already too late for any of that. Eddard also discovered that, apart from black powder, hot-air balloons, and cement, he possessed almost no useful knowledge for developing his domain.

"Lord Eddard? Lord Eddard!"

Seeing Eddard stand there in a daze after taking the book, Maester Albert could not help calling to him.

As Maester Albert looked at Eddard, who was only fifteen, he felt somewhat moved. Uncertainty and helplessness were perfectly normal in a young lord who had only just taken charge of his lands. Yet in Eddard's bewildered eyes, Maester Albert saw more emotions that he could not describe: a sense of loss, fear, and a certain dread that was difficult to put into words.

"Lord Eddard, you needn't worry so much. Your father was much the same when he first took charge of the castle. But you are different from him. At least you are a novice maester who has studied at the Citadel. Some of the knowledge you learned there will be quite enough to help you govern your lands well!"

Maester Albert's words brought Eddard back to his senses. He hurriedly collected himself and bowed to Maester Albert before speaking.

"Thank you, Maester Albert. I will work hard to fulfill my duties as lord. I will not bring shame upon my family. Well, it is about time. Let me see you back!"

Afterward, Eddard led Maester Albert down the tower. House Flint's castle consisted of a main keep and an outer wall. The place where Eddard had been was a small tower atop the main keep, formerly used to raise ravens (people in this world used ravens to carry messages; they were faster and cleverer than pigeons, and very easy to feed). It had also been Maester Albert's former residence and records room, and had always been under his management.

Later, as the old maester grew older, the father Eddard had inherited had moved his bedroom and office into a room in the main keep out of concern for his safety. After they left the room, a guard at the door immediately stepped forward to support Maester Albert.

Then, led by another guard, the group descended the old spiral stone staircase by the dim yellow light of a glass candle lantern. Although ravens had not visited the passage for a long time, Eddard could still occasionally catch a faint whiff of bird droppings.

The people and objects around him constantly reminded Eddard of how backward and impoverished this world was. They also constantly reminded him that this was a world that truly existed.

It was precisely these experiences and discomforts that kept Eddard thinking about how to change his life and fate. After all, it was easy to go from frugality to luxury, but hard to go from luxury to frugality.

After experiencing modern life, who would want to eat unpalatable black bread and drink ale in a dark medieval world while waiting for the apocalypse to arrive?

After escorting Maester Albert back to the rookery on the western side of the main keep, Eddard returned to his own bedroom in the keep. His head maid, the matron Aiju, had already lit the bedroom fireplace.

Heat was steadily radiating from the enormous chimney and hearth. After a prolonged exchange of warm and cold air, the fireplace had heated the room to a very comfortable temperature.

Although Flint's Finger lay close to the south, once night fell, cold winds from the north still blew through gaps in the building, leaving people too cold to sleep peacefully.

Eddard's house owed allegiance to House Stark of the North. This ruling house had a history stretching back thousands of years and was one of the nine greatest noble houses of Westeros. House Stark was also the central family in the television series Eddard had watched in his previous life. In his fragmented memories, a certain paralyzed heir of that family had emerged as the final victor.

"Creak..."

After a quick wash, Eddard jumped straight onto the soft feather bed. The bed legs made a teeth-grating scraping noise at his movement.

This luxurious sort of bed from southern Westeros was a favorite among all the continent's nobles. Exquisite woodcarving and various kinds of stuffing made lying in it feel like floating among clouds.

However, although the feather bed had been sprinkled with perfume from Myr across the sea, Eddard could still detect a faint smell of bird droppings. At such moments, he missed the modern life of his previous existence on Blue Star terribly. But there was no use saying anything now. All he could do was develop his domain, improve his life a little, and survive the disaster that would come in the future.

As Eddard's thoughts wandered, he sank into a deep sleep after his busy day and soon began to dream.

Meanwhile, in the main keep's rookery, Maester Albert was reading a rolled raven message from the south beneath a dim yellow glass lamp. Its contents left him unable to spare any attention for the messenger raven begging for food before him.

"Caw..."

When its begging proved fruitless, the raven let out a disgruntled cry. At its harsh call, the ravens in the cages around Maester Albert began calling as well. For a moment, the room was as unbearably noisy as the market outside the castle during the day.

"The Glass Candle... flames..."

Amid the ravens' clamor, Maester Albert murmured words carrying special significance as though talking in his sleep. As those syllables left his mouth, the ravens behind him grew even more raucous.