Riverrun — The Trident
"Ser, was it true?"
Jaime Lannister leaned forward eagerly over the banquet table.
"That Maelys Blackfyre actually had two heads?"
Ser Brynden Tully—the Blackfish himself—answered as if reciting a dull fact.
"It's true. When Barristan the Bold cut off the first, the second kept screaming."
Jaime's eyes shone like a boy hearing his first war story.
"Seven hells, I can almost see it! It must've been glorious—fighting side by side with heroes."
The Blackfish snorted.
"You're not there yet, boy. But almost."
He studied him carefully.
"You've already touched your life force, haven't you? Stay at Riverrun a few days. I can train you."
At fourteen, Jaime's grin could have lit a hall.
"Truly? That's all I want!"
Tywin's son had been sent here as a "courtesy messenger," but his father knew Crakehall could teach him no more. The Blackfish's offer was a gift Tywin hadn't foreseen.
Lord Hoster Tully's polite cough broke the moment.
"Brynden, not at the dinner table. You'll ruin the rites."
Brynden glanced at him without apology. Secretly, he meant to keep the lad close—perhaps even throw him in the path of his young niece, Lysa.
His brother only saw a nuisance.
Jaime, oblivious, leaned closer.
"Ser, when do we start?"
Not tonight, perhaps. The Blackfish's eyes slid briefly to Hoster's table—to two red-haired girls laughing beside a golden-haired squire—family and alliances, politics entwined like river currents.
But war and training would come.
---
Spring, Day 12 — Friday — Clear Skies — 9 a.m.
"Today's a good day, everything I wish for…"
Daeron hummed off-key at the lakeshore, casting his line with a practiced flick.
Fishing had become his meditation. His rule was simple: keep trying until the challenge breaks before you.
Two days of practice had made him deft—his wrists learned the rhythm of reel and tug. When a fish broke the surface, he caught it, slapped it twice, and grinned.
"Real life has perks. Can't do that in the game."
The glow of killing his first man had long ebbed away; today was luck day—iridium-star fortune, according to the interface.
If ever there was a time to profit before the Spring 13 festival, this was it.
---
[Farmer: Daeron Targaryen]
Farming Level 3
Mining Level 3
Foraging Level 1
Fishing Level 4
Combat Level 2
---
Two levels of farming from the great potato harvest.
Four levels of fishing from sheer stubborn effort.
The float twitched.
Plop!
A silver flash broke the water. Daeron reeled, tense—and yanked free a thick, gray-silver fish.
Silver-Star Bighead Carp (45 cm) — worth 93 gold.
"Not bad. Still no treasure chest, though."
He stowed it with a sigh.
Two days of catch had already earned him over 556 gold—far more than the two thousand he needed for strawberry seeds.
Today's goal: profit and maybe something rare.
Fishing often brought bonus loot—ores, seeds, gemstones, sometimes trash that wasn't trash.
Yesterday, he'd fished up a weapon:
Broken Trident (Lv 5 Dagger)
Damage 15–26 +1 Crit +1 Crit Chance
Small but vicious. Paired with a gem upgrade, it would slice through monsters like butter.
Still, what he really wanted was Neptune's Greatsword—the weapon every old player dreamed of.
He looked at his worn trident.
"Close, but not Neptune," he muttered, casting again.
The float vanished with a sharp tug.
Got one.
His reflexes kicked in—a fast parry of reel and line, every motion perfect.
Then the interface blinked:
> A Treasure Chest has appeared!
Jackpot.
The fish bucked like mad, diving and surging.
"You are not getting away," Daeron hissed.
Minutes dragged past. Sweat ran down his cheeks.
With a final snap, the line pulled tight and threw a massive bass onto the grass.
Large Mouth Bass (68 cm — Common) — worth 100 gold.
He grinned, slapped it twice for discipline, and knelt by the gleaming chest.
---
Creaaak.
Inside—three items.
Neptune's Greatsword
Lucky Ring
Diamond
---
Daeron stared for a moment. Then exploded into laughter.
"You've got to be kidding me! The gods do love me!"
He pulled the greatsword out first.
[Neptune's Greatsword (Lv 5 Sword)]
Damage 18–35 −1 Speed +2 Defense +4 Weight +2 Attack Speed
Slime Slayer
A monstrous weapon.
The slow swing didn't matter—the reach was long and the impact immense. Each hit knocked enemies back like waves from the sea.
The enchantment Slime Slayer turned it into a one-strike death sentence for the gelatinous menaces haunting the lower mines.
He swung it once.
The air whistled.
The ground shuddered.
"Now that's a sword."
Next, he lifted a tiny silver band.
[Lucky Ring]
Moon-shaped engraving. Luck +1
The numbers didn't do it justice—luck was everything. On a normal day, good fortune rose by 0.1 at best. The ring gave a flat +1 bonus, a miracle of odds.
Finally, the third treasure:
Diamond — value 500 gold
Daeron's eyes burned.
"This is how you reward hard work!"
He slipped the ring onto his finger, strapped the sword to his back, and laughed until the sound echoed off the lake.
"A lucky ring on the left. Neptune in the right."
"Now let's see any monster stop me."
The mine's one-hundred-twenty floors lay ahead, and this time the dragon-blooded farmer planned to conquer every last one.
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