Chapter 412: Miscellaneous Matters of Migration - Game of Thrones: Knight’s Honor - NovelsTime

Game of Thrones: Knight’s Honor

Chapter 412: Miscellaneous Matters of Migration

Author: BlurryDream
updatedAt: 2025-07-13

CHAPTER 412: CHAPTER 412: MISCELLANEOUS MATTERS OF MIGRATION

"Aren’t you going to issue an edict to warn those guys? Some of them are getting way too brazen."

In the Tower of the Hand, Daenerys, her belly already starting to show, looked gloomy as she read a freshly delivered report and spoke angrily.

Lynd took the report and glanced through it. The contents were simple: House Florent of Cider Hall had seized the opportunity of House Tyrell’s move from Highgarden to occupy it themselves, proclaiming one of their own as the Lord of Highgarden and Warden of the Reach.

Lynd set down the report, thought for a moment, and asked, "Wasn’t it just four days ago that House Tyrell finally completed their move?"

"Yes," Daenerys nodded and said, "You even made a special trip to Highgarden with Margaery just for those three trees."

"Since Highgarden is without a lord now, it’s not really a big deal if House Florent takes it over, as long as they don’t interfere with the migration." Lynd smiled casually and added, "Besides, House Florent has waited thousands of years for this day. Letting them have a taste of ruling Highgarden for a while isn’t a big problem."

Long before House Gardener had officially notified the Reach, House Florent had already set its sights on Highgarden. However, the status and bloodline of House Gardener were beyond reproach, and House Florent couldn’t find any fault with them, so they could only bury their ambitions.

Later, when Aegon the Conqueror arrived and wiped out House Gardener, House Florent, full of self-importance, believed that their noble bloodline would naturally allow them to inherit Highgarden. But Aegon, shrewd as he was, chose House Tyrell—the Gardeners’ stewards—to become the lords of Highgarden, successfully dividing the Reach.

Although House Florent recognized this as Aegon’s divide-and-conquer tactic, they willingly walked into the trap. For hundreds of years, conflicts between House Florent and House Tyrell never ceased. Only in recent years had relations slightly improved, with even some intermarriages between the two houses.

Now that House Florent found they could fulfill their ancestors’ long-cherished wish without shedding a drop of blood, they naturally seized the opportunity. As soon as House Tyrell finished moving out of Highgarden, House Florent moved in to take it over.

Their claims to the titles of Lord of Highgarden and Warden of the Reach were little more than empty boasts. They likely knew full well they could only occupy Highgarden temporarily. Before long, they too would have to migrate to the continent of Sothoryos. The fact that they hadn’t submitted any formal documents to the Iron Throne to change their titles was a clear sign of their intentions.

In fact, House Florent wasn’t even the first to pull such a move. After Sansa completed the migration and moved everyone from Winterfell to Sothoryos, Roose Bolton led his forces north through a blizzard, occupied Winterfell, and proclaimed himself Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.

Whether because fulfilling his ancestors’ wishes sapped his spirit, or because the bitter cold took its toll on his body, he fell ill after returning to Riverrun from the North and died there half a month later, causing some complications in Catelyn Tully’s relocation efforts.

For a noble house to migrate from Westeros to Sothoryos was no simple matter. It wasn’t just a matter of packing up and boarding a ship. Especially for the great lords with deep foundations, completing the move took a very long time.

Even Winterfell, which was sparsely populated and poorly resourced, took Sansa over two months to fully relocate. House Tyrell of Highgarden, with its much deeper roots, took more than a year to complete their move. They even finished after the Eyrie and Riverrun, which had started their relocations later. At present, only Casterly Rock among the Seven Kingdoms’ Wardens had yet to complete its move.

Although the Wardens of the Seven Kingdoms had migrated to Sothoryos, creating a massive power vacuum across Westeros, the remaining nobles weren’t in the mood to fight over the empty seats. Their only concern now was finding ways to move their house names as high up on the relocation list as possible.

"It’s getting dark again!"

Feeling the light outside dimming, Daenerys frowned and glanced toward the crystal window.

"Yes, it’s getting dark again," Lynd said as he also looked over at the window before quickly returning his gaze to the documents in his hand.

At that moment, several attendants entered the room and lit all the lamps, making the room as bright as day.

"Wait," Lynd called out to an attendant who was about to leave. He grabbed a ledger from nearby, quickly signed it, stamped it, and handed it over, saying, "Take this list to Lord Samwell Tarly and Lord Jon Snow immediately. It’s the latest migration roster. Tell them everything on the road is to proceed as usual. Also, summon Val and Lord Tormund."

When Lynd had first issued the proclamation warning that the Long Night was coming and eternal winter was approaching, plenty of people still didn’t believe him. But as the nights grew longer and longer, those who had been hesitant were finally terrified into action and hurried to register for the migration.

For more than a year, the entire continent of Westeros was swept into a wave of migration. To speed up land development, Lynd expanded the settler teams seven times over the course of that year, growing the numbers from just over twenty thousand to more than half a million. Meanwhile, with the Black Cave’s migration to the continent of Sothoryos, there had been numerous breakthroughs in the study of the dangerous creatures native to Sothoryos. These advances greatly accelerated the pace of territorial expansion, gradually accommodating the growing influx of migrants.

Because of the population surge on Sothoryos, Nymeria had already moved her administrative center from Ny Sar to New King’s Landing. The Old Men of the River Rhoyne had also completed a migration, crossing the sea and settling by the Yee River near New King’s Landing. Their presence cleared the river’s waters, driving away many dangerous aquatic creatures to more remote and desolate areas. Now, the Yee River had become the empire’s most crucial trade route for transporting goods.

"Your Grace, what can we do for you?"

Val and Tormund arrived at the Tower of the Hand and bowed to Lynd.

Compared to Val, who had already adapted to the customs and etiquette of the Seven Kingdoms and now even dressed like a noble lady, Tormund clearly hadn’t gotten used to the new way of life. He still wore a thick fur coat, though the addition of several pieces of gold jewelry made him look rather like a newly rich brute.

In truth, Tormund didn’t actually like wearing gold jewelry—it was just that he discovered adorning himself in it attracted thieves and bandits, giving him the perfect excuse to unleash his violent temper on them.

"How are your people preparing?" Lynd asked.

"We can move at any time," Val replied immediately, though she hesitated slightly and asked, "Weren’t we supposed to be among the last groups to migrate?"

"The situation has changed," Lynd said, handing Val a document.

Val took it, glanced through it, and her expression darkened. The document reported that several bands of Free Folk warriors, disguised as bandits, had taken advantage of the guards being busy assisting the migration to attack villages in the Reach, killing hundreds.

Val quickly explained, "Your Grace, this was the work of a few individuals, not representative of all of us..."

"I know it was only a few," Lynd said calmly. "That’s why I’m having you relocate early, instead of sending troops to crush the situation."

He pointed at Val. "You’re in charge of the migration." Then he pointed at Tormund. "You’re responsible for cleaning up the ones who refuse to obey. I want their heads displayed outside the King’s Gate by sunrise tomorrow. Understood?"

"Yes, Your Grace."

Knowing that once Lynd made a decision, it wouldn’t change, both Val and Tormund immediately nodded and left, cursing the troublemakers under their breath.

Daenerys said bluntly, "You should have sent them away long ago. This is already the fourth incident."

"Like how you sent away your roaring warriors?" Lynd replied smoothly without even looking up.

Daenerys pursed her lips but said nothing more.

Just as Lynd said, the Roaring Warriors who had followed Daenerys to Westeros were no different from the Free Folk warriors from beyond the Wall. They caused trouble everywhere they went. It had taken Lynd personally killing over a hundred of them to finally get the rest to behave—but even so, they were far from well-disciplined. Scattered reports of chaos still surfaced from time to time, eventually forcing Daenerys to send the remaining Roaring Warriors away, lest they completely infuriate Lynd.

The two of them didn’t engage in any more small talk. They quietly worked through the documents before them, while attendants came by twice, collecting the reviewed papers and delivering new ones for them to process.

"Why are there so many matters to handle? It feels like it’s never-ending," Daenerys said, setting down the quill and rubbing her sore hand.

While amending the solutions on a document, Lynd replied, "I’ve already sent the Small Council to New King’s Landing. Jon and the others are staying behind at Miracle Harbor. Most of the Council of the Seven’s members have migrated to Sothoryos. Right now, all the affairs of the Seven Kingdoms are pressing down on just the two of us, so of course we’re overwhelmed."

Daenerys suggested, "What about Margaery? We should bring Margaery and her council team here to help us deal with these matters."

"No," Lynd shook his head. "Margaery needs to merge the spirituality of the Three-Eyed Raven and Garth Greenhand. It’s best not to disturb her during this time."

Seeing Lynd reject her proposal, Daenerys didn’t insist further. Just then, a dragon’s roar echoed from outside the window. Moments later, Rhaegar, Aegon, and Viserys flew past the Tower. Daenerys couldn’t help but put down her work, push open the balcony door, and step out into the wind and snow to watch her dragons soaring freely through the sky.

Lynd also rose and, passing the coat rack, grabbed a cloak. He walked over to Daenerys, draped it over her shoulders, diverted the surrounding wind and snow away from her, and gently reminded her, "You should take care of your health—don’t catch a chill."

Daenerys smiled, lightly touched her belly, then looked back at her three dragons. A little puzzled, she asked, "I remember Rhaegar and Augustus’ dragons hatched around the same time. Why is there such a huge difference in their growth rates? Are Rhaegar and the others really alright?"

As time went by, the rapid growth of Daenerys’ three dragons had become strikingly obvious. In just a year, they had grown to almost the size of fully grown dragons, while Augustus’ dragons were still only the size of two horses. The difference was so stark that even a blind man could tell.

The spellcasters of Black Cave had taken an interest in the dragons’ growth patterns. After Daenerys arrived in King’s Landing, they requested permission to observe and record data on the dragons’ development. Lynd approved the request and arranged for researchers to study their bloodlines and other factors. Yet despite their efforts, aside from confirming that dragons were magical creatures, they uncovered little of practical value.

Lynd reassured her, "Don’t worry. There’s nothing wrong with their bodies. They’ll live very long lives—far longer than any human."

Daenerys smiled softly. To outsiders, her three dragons were mere pets or tools, no different than a hunter’s hounds. But in her heart, they were family—her children. The names she had given them, each borrowed from a beloved relative, made that plain.

After frolicking in the skies for a while, the three dragons finally descended onto the Dragonpit platform, where food had already been prepared for them.

Seeing the dragons land, Lynd and Daenerys left the balcony, returned indoors, closed the door, and added a few more logs to the fireplace to make the flames burn brighter.

Just as they were refocusing on the documents at the table, a knock came at the door. Without waiting for Lynd’s permission, the visitor pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Lynd was about to reprimand the intruder for their rudeness, but upon seeing who it was, he immediately changed his tone and asked, "You’re awake? How do you feel?"

The person who entered was none other than Little Rose, Margaery Tyrell. But she was very different from the Margaery of the past. Previously, even when chairing council meetings, she had always dressed in elegant and splendid noble attire that naturally commanded respect.

Now, however, Margaery looked more like a Child of the Forest. Her clothes seemed woven entirely from some kind of tree bark, and her headdress was fashioned from plant branches. She looked like a forest witch.

Her appearance had changed as well. The most noticeable differences were the three-eyed tree symbol now adorning her forehead and the brilliant green of her eyes.

After stepping inside and closing the door behind her, Margaery said, "I feel very well. I can see so much more clearly now. I also saw the message my brother Willas left for me."

"Lord Willas left you a message?" Lynd asked curiously. "What did he say?"

Margaery shook her head, indicating she wasn’t planning to share it. She then said seriously, "While I was spiritually journeying through the world using Garth Greenhand’s power, I saw something you should be aware of."

"What did you see?" Lynd asked.

Margaery looked at Lynd, then at Daenerys, and said, "The Dothraki Sea is covered in ghost grass. The Dothraki believe the end is coming. They have decided to betray Queen Daenerys and launch a raid on the southern coastline as a sacrificial offering."

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