The Mountain of Ice and Fire

Chapter 21: Sharlot Arrives

Gregor felt moved as he watched Thomasman savor his bacon soup.

His subjects under his banner, like Thomasman, had endured hardship for far too long.

The other subjects were the same.

Gregor only ate half-heartedly, finding that with each bite, aside from the honey-smeared bread, which was still decent, the soup and meat seemed increasingly coarse and unpalatable compared to yesterday.

Yet, everyone else ate with gusto.

Even a noble like Addam Sharlot ate with grease dripping from his lips.

Roasted and boiled meats piled high on the platter before him.

Yesterday, after Gregor overcame his poppy addiction, everything tasted like the finest delicacies.

Now he understood, it wasn't that the food was exceptionally delicious, but that he was simply too hungry.

Various meats, including hunted boar and bear, were not thoroughly infused with salt due to their large size. The roasted meat was slightly better, but the boiled meat, having been cooked for too long, was tough and had a terrible texture. Moreover, the cook hadn't prepared any dipping sauce.

There was no custom here of dipping boiled meat in sauce. Furthermore, besides knives and forks, there were no chopsticks.

The refinement and deliciousness of culinary culture in this world simply couldn't compare to that of Earth's civilization. After all, an agricultural-era, cold-weapon civilization was several levels behind the internet and technology era.

Gregor glanced at the wide wooden dining table: no MSG, no ginger, garlic, or cilantro, no soy sauce or vinegar, no salt as fine as sand and as white as snow, no chili peppers, no Pixian chili bean paste or Lao Gan Ma. Despite this, salt was the king of all flavors, and even boiled meat dipped in salty seasoning would suffice, but the salt here contained a lot of grit, and some even had a slightly bitter taste, clearly indicating poor salt quality and refining techniques.

Gregor then looked outside the stone fort's gate, at the pitch-black darkness, with the croaking of frogs, the chirping of insects, and a few small fireflies, but no electric lights, no streets, no cars. He had no phone in hand, and no computer in the room.

A very primitive civilization!

Gregor missed China's new four great inventions: high-speed rail, mobile payment, online shopping, and shared bikes.

Remembering the new four great inventions, the old four great inventions came to mind: the compass, which wasn't difficult to make, he'd learned it in middle school science class; printing, papermaking, and gunpowder.

Hmm, the compass could be used to escape, gunpowder could be used for blasting and mining, and even for killing enemies; as for papermaking and printing, in an era when the White Walkers would soon attack the Seven Kingdoms, in a 'doomsday' era where the lives of the entire human race on the continent were uncertain for even a few more years, Gregor had no intention of spending time researching paper.

Regardless of what he wanted to do in the future, or what he could accomplish, first of all, he had to mine, mine gold, and privately mint gold dragons. The Seven Kingdoms would be in chaos, and Littlefinger Petyr Baelish, the master of coin, would leave King's Landing and disappear. The law against privately minting coins would become a mere formality. This was the worst of times, but it created the best opportunity for privately minting gold dragons.

In this world, no one had yet made counterfeit money, so Gregor decided to be the first. There was a very professional business term for this: a blue ocean market.

It doesn't matter if it's a black cat or a white cat, as long as it catches mice, it's a good cat.

Only gold dragons are the real deal.

Coming from a higher civilization, Gregor was not content to be a dog for a lord with a small territory and no more than thirty thousand troops in an agricultural civilization.

Estimating the territory of the Westerlands, it was only equivalent to an ordinary city in Chinese civilization. The Seven Kingdoms were not large either, only a few thousand miles from north to south, and the total strength of the Seven Kingdoms was only about three hundred thousand.

Gregor recalled the history of China he had studied, the warring states, the change of dynasties, with millions of troops fighting each other at every turn. Various ingenious schemes emerged one after another, various fierce generals and strategists fought each other for strength, wisdom, and military tactics, vying for supremacy in the Central Plains. Heroes were unparalleled, taking the heads of enemy generals from a million-strong army; strategists planned and directed operations in a tent, ensuring victory from thousands of miles away.

In ancient China, a large feudal lord, a duke, could mobilize hundreds or thousands of retainers for a brawl, and armies easily numbered over a hundred thousand. But in this world, a legion of a thousand men was already considered a large lord. Even the wealthy Sharlot family, with gold and silver mines, usually had no more than two thousand warriors, and only three thousand combatants when they gathered farmers and miners during wartime. A lord with three thousand combatants was already the strongest in the Westerlands nobility. A knight as brave and famous throughout the Seven Kingdoms as Gregor himself had a small territory and few subjects, only eleven households.

Gregor made up his mind to walk his own path, change his predetermined fate, and if this world was not ultimately destroyed by the White Walkers in a few years, then let the flower of Chinese civilization bloom here. If the situation was not right, then he would take the gold dragons and escape across the Narrow Sea, heading east without looking back.

*

In the morning, a troop of cavalry rode down the Golden Road. The leader was none other than Alan Sharlot, the captain of the guard of Alva Sharlot, who had been scared to death by Gregor. The standard-bearer beside him held a flagpole in both hands, with a lifelike peacock in full display on the banner, representing the Sharlot family of Silverhill.

From afar, Polliver saw this banner on the roof of Clegane's Keep.

"They're here, Notebook, the Sharlots are here," Polliver shouted.

Notebook, who was in the courtyard watching Drennan teach Julie how to practice swordplay with left and right turning steps, immediately jumped on his horse: "How many men are there?"

"About thirty," Polliver shouted.

Notebook shouted to Rafford Clegane on the stone steps: "Notify Lord Gregor, the Sharlots are here."

Rafford waved his hand, and Notebook rode out of the courtyard to scout the enemy.

Drennan stopped Julie's training, strode into the house, dropped the training sword, put on his armor, fastened his sword belt, checked his short sword and steel-tipped dagger, and hung his long sword. He came out and went straight to the hall.

Gregor was in the hall, with his fearsome greatsword, a huge oak shield, and heavy armor hanging on the wall. Sweetmouth Ralph and Horseman Thomasman were helping Lord Gregor put on his armor.

Julie Clegane ran in, holding her skirt, and the training sword in her hand had been replaced with a short sword. Gregor noticed that Julie's skirt straps were dragging on the ground.

Gregor disliked his armor for being too complicated. His physique was too large, and the front and back steel plates had to be fastened and tied piece by piece, requiring two people to help from the front and back, which was very troublesome. The steel backplate and shoulder armor also required the help of guards, which was very inconvenient. If he was ambushed, there would be no time to put on the armor.

This was unavoidable. In the age of cold weapons, armor was similar to bulletproof vests in his previous civilization. For safety, no matter how heavy or troublesome, he had to wear it.

However, Julie's skirt could be modified, changed into tight-legged pants from Chinese civilization. All the skirts should be removed, and all the decorative belts around the waist should be discarded, replaced with a special sword belt that could hang many weapons.

Julie's sleeve cuffs were also too wide, and practicing martial arts and swordsmanship would hinder the cleanliness and neatness of her movements. If tight cuffs were adopted, locking the sleeves with buttons, fastened on the wrists, it would definitely increase the speed of drawing the sword and reduce resistance.

Hmm, first design a set of training clothes for Julie. All wide styles should be changed to compact styles, wide sleeves, floor-length skirts, and decorative belts should be eliminated, and elastic tops, mandarin jackets, and wide-crotch, tight-legged pants should be worn. Oh, right, there are no mandarin jackets in this world yet.

Gregor stared at Julie intently. In his eyes, Julie had turned into a young woman wearing the simple and capable training clothes he had designed, with the aura of a technological civilization. She was clean and neat, well-tailored. Her every move, turn, and dodge had no restraint or burden from clothes and skirts, minimizing the resistance and inconvenience caused by skirts during movement.

Julie's short sword stabbed towards Gregor's eyes: "Hey, what are you looking at!"

Horseman Thomasman and Sweetmouth Ralph were both startled.

They were afraid of Gregor's rage.

Gregor was expressionless. He didn't know why Julie wasn't afraid of him at all, given his infamous reputation. He guessed it had something to do with Julie's misfortune. The little girl's soul and heart might have died several times.

She might not be afraid of death at all, or she might have already considered herself dead, and being alive now was already a bonus!

In short, Julie was not a 'normal' little girl.

He couldn't let the little girl who wasn't afraid of him take advantage of the situation. Gregor said in a indifferent and stern voice: "Julie! Drennan! Escort Ser Addam Sharlot from the dungeon."

"Yes, Lord," Drennan and Julie said in unison.

Drennan walked in front, and Julie walked behind. When leaving the gate, Julie turned her head and winked her right eye at Gregor.