"Upgrading the pickaxe is top priority."
To mine that meteorite, Daeron had to upgrade his tool.
He couldn't put it off any longer.
Past level 40 in the mines, the ore nodes were incredibly tough; a standard pickaxe barely made a dent.
He planned to set aside the materials and gold needed for a Copper Pickaxe.
Daeron sold all his non-Silver Star strawberries and forageable items.
"It's time to build a Barn."
With the experience of building the Silo under his belt, Daeron navigated the construction panel with ease, deposited the materials, and selected the location.
Barn Materials: 6,000 Gold, 300 Wood, 150 Stone.
Construction Time: Three days.
Bang!
He hit the confirm button. On the empty lot east of the Coop, a wooden construction platform appeared out of thin air.
Daeron checked his interface.
His gold count plummeted, nearly hitting zero.
"Easy come, easy go."
Daeron was pragmatic about it; he didn't feel a shred of regret.
He had initially debated whether to upgrade to a Big Coop or build a Barn first.
Coop Big Coop Deluxe Coop.
The Big Coop was an expansion that came with an Incubator.
Any egg placed in the incubator would eventually hatch, with the time required depending on the egg type.
Daeron had briefly wondered if he could put the dragon egg in the incubator.
If it hatched, he'd be unstoppable immediately.
But that was just wishful thinking.
In Stardew Valley, the Big Coop's incubator only worked for chicken eggs, void eggs (emo chicken eggs), and dinosaur eggs (which were really just lizards).
Even Ostrich eggs required completing the museum collection on Ginger Island to get a specialized "Ostrich Incubator."
The life tier of a true dragon was leagues above an ostrich.
The probability of a standard Coop incubator hatching a dragon egg was basically zero.
Still, even the slightest possibility had been worth considering, which was why he hesitated.
But now, things were different.
Since discovering that Solar Essence helped with the dragon egg's incubation, he didn't need to gamble on the Big Coop upgrade.
He could go straight for the Barn and get cows later.
Whether it was nutrient-rich milk or cheese made via a Cheese Press, dairy products were incredibly practical.
For daily consumption or combat fuel in the mines, cows were indispensable.
---
Noon.
King's Landing, the Mud Gate.
Daeron arrived at the harbor and saw the repaired royal ship.
"Look, Prince. The hull and deck are fully repaired, the sails are brand new, and the ram has been polished. She looks as good as the day she was launched," Count Owen said, his face glowing with pride.
Even he hadn't expected the repairs to turn out this well.
With its sixty-foot hull and unique design, crossing Blackwater Bay would be a breeze.
It certainly looked impressive from the outside.
Daeron nodded in approval. "My Lord, your efficiency is admirable."
"I live to serve the Prince."
Count Owen snapped to attention, acting more loyal than the most loyal of subjects.
They had the ship; now they needed a captain and a crew.
"My Lord, do you have anyone to recommend?" Daeron asked.
"I do, I do, Prince."
Count Owen immediately launched into a long list of names.
He pointed out a dozen men, all sailors with guaranteed character who had served the Royal Family before.
Then, Count Owen's eyes darted around. "Prince, there is one more man I'd like to recommend."
The deck of the royal ship was bustling with activity—people checking for leaks, others moving supplies.
Owen waved toward the deck, immediately catching someone's attention.
Three minutes later.
Davos Seaworth climbed down the wooden ladder from the deck to the dock. On his way down, he paused to scrub his hands clean in a water bucket and carefully smoothed the wrinkles in his clothes.
"Your Highness," he said.
Daeron looked him up and down. His face was ordinary, showing only nervousness and caution, with no trace of resentment over his arrest.
Count Owen, ever the perceptive one, immediately chimed in. "Prince, this is Davos Seaworth, the smuggler we caught last time."
"Don't let his low birth fool you, though. He's an excellent hand at sea. He's a master of reading the wind, repairing ships, fishing—you name it."
In short, a rare talent.
"I'll speak to him," Daeron said with a knowing smile, fully aware of Owen's blatant attempt to curry favor.
No wonder ancient monarchs loved their yes-men.
When someone sucks up to you this hard, it's honestly kind of hard to resist.
Count Owen gave a sheepish smile.
Turning back to Davos, Daeron asked, "Davos, how have the last few days been?"
"V-Very good," Davos stammered, trying to find the right words. "After I was caught, the Gold Cloaks didn't mistreat me. They even let me eat the onion stew I was smuggling. It was delicious."
"I didn't ask about the menu," Daeron said dryly.
Davos paused, then quickly added, "This Lord here has been very fair and kind. He assigned me to repair the ship and pays me 10 coppers a day."
As he spoke, he glanced at Count Owen.
The Count straightened his back, posing as a paragon of justice and integrity.
Daeron suppressed a laugh. "It seems you've been living well."
He looked at Davos's face and teased, "You look like you've put on weight compared to your time smuggling at sea."
Davos didn't dare reply to the joke. His mind was racing, trying to figure out why the Prince had summoned him.
While repairing the ship, he had gathered information about recent events in King's Landing from the other shipwrights.
The Prince standing before him was Daeron Targaryen, the King's favorite son, and recently appointed Vice Commander of the City Watch.
In just a few days, he had seized control of the City Watch, purged its ranks, and launched a massive cleanup of King's Landing's criminal underworld.
Davos had just been unlucky enough to get caught in the net.
"Davos, since Lord Owen has recommended you, I'm willing to give you a chance to show what you can do."
Daeron spoke suddenly. "You see this ship?"
"I'm taking it to Dragonstone. In the future, it might sail back and forth to the Wall or across the Narrow Sea."
"Tell me, do you have the confidence to captain a large vessel like this?"
Davos froze on the spot.
Did he hear that right?
Count Owen was stunned too. He panicked. "Prince, he's a smuggler! Using his talents is fine, but you can't give him command of a royal ship!"
A lowborn smuggler?
Who knew if he'd go behind the Prince's back and sell the ship off somewhere?
Hearing this, Davos felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head. He couldn't argue.
The Count was right.
In Westeros, where bloodline was everything, birth defined you.
And a smuggler was at the very bottom of the food chain.
The recommender and the recommended stood there with their own thoughts.
But Daeron had already made up his mind. "It's just managing a ship, not leading an army."
"But he is a smuggler!" Count Owen pleaded earnestly.
Daeron waved his hand, speaking dismissively. "So what if he's a smuggler? My father trusts a eunuch to be his Master of Whisperers, doesn't he?"
"Ah... well..."
Count Owen was left speechless.
The speaker might have been casual, but the listener took it to heart.
Davos, who had given up hope, looked up in surprise. He stared at the young Prince's nonchalant demeanor, etching this moment deep into his memory.