The next day, in the early morning, Ameon got up feeling refreshed. Attended by a maid, he went to the dining hall for a meal. Because he was in a good mood, everything looked pleasing to the eye.
"Your Highness, won't you reconsider?" Count Bakin sincerely requested as he scooped a spoonful of fresh soup. "Seagull Town needs a dragon tamer to hold the fort."
"No, I..." Ameon was about to dismiss him directly.
Lanaer, sitting next to him, reached out and held his large hand, lightly pinching his fingertips. Ameon was slightly taken aback and turned to look at her. Not just him, the entire room noticed this scene.
Lanaer calmly said in a soft voice, "Ameon, defeating the Three Women Kingdom is one of your father Daimon's honors. You are his heir."
One can ignore, but one cannot avoid the question. Ameon picked up on the underlying meaning and changed the subject. "Valley Town is currently occupied; if the Three Women Kingdom causes trouble again, I can lend a hand."
"With your help, the Three Women Kingdom is sure to lose," Count Bakin quickly flattered.
Ameon's brow furrowed, pondering the art of language. The pirates of the Three Women Kingdom raided the strait, and Valley Town indeed felt the impact. Denying assistance outright would raise suspicions of wanting to benefit without contributing. Positioning himself as an outside support would instead give him more freedom.
"Don't always drink milk; occasionally try some soup," Lanaer pushed over half a bowl of fresh soup, tilting her head to gaze into his eyes.
"Is it sticky?" Ameon glanced at the porcelain bowl, which contained cream of mushroom soup.
"Give it a try; the taste is different," Lanaer's eyes encouraged him, and she took away the half-glass of milk in front of him.
Ameon's brow furrowed even deeper as he scooped up a spoonful of mushroom soup and forced himself to swallow, his face twisting in discomfort. The prince was very picky about food and reluctant to try new things.
"So, how is it? Does it taste good?" Lanaer asked, her lips slightly curving as she slowly drank half a glass of milk. Not being willing to accept new things wouldn't do. If one couldn't tolerate the disturbances from the outside world, they could only stay in the countryside and play alone.
"It's not tasty, but my mom taught me not to waste food," Ameon's mood calmed down as he drank the mushroom soup in one go, elegantly wiped his mouth with a napkin, and remarked, "My mouth is full of cream flavor; Renira will definitely like it.
Lanaer was slightly taken aback, her beautiful eyes flashing with an indescribable emotion. Mentioning another woman in front of a woman could stir a war.
"You should drink more milk," Ameon glanced at her with a meaningful expression. After saying that, he got up and left the table.
Lanaer furrowed her brow and looked down, unable to see her own toes. She was filled with self-doubt. Do I really need this?
"Ahem." Sir Harold cleared his throat a couple of times and said earnestly, "His Highness is leaving; I will go see him off." As a royal guard, there was no room for error in this action. Before leaving, he observed Lanaer's expressions and demeanor with sharp old eyes. From the previous conversation and their intimate actions, it was clear there was unusual ambiguity between the two. He was very concerned about the king and the princess.
Not a good sign; it's best to extinguish it early.
... Noon. Two giant dragons flew out of Seagull Town, entangled for a moment over Stone Island, roaring at each other before flying in different directions. Lanaer was to return to Tidehead Island to report.
"Fly, Vermithor!" Ameon rode the bronze dragon, heading back to the valley. The purpose of this trip had been achieved. He had retrieved the seized goods, plus a considerable compensation. The only drawback was not having the chance to say a proper goodbye. Lanaer had too many bad intentions, always wanting to toy with the man in her palm. Such mature women are full of charm, making one filled with the desire to conquer. Reflecting on the conflict from last night, Ameon felt a bit dazed, unsure if he had gained or lost.
After a long while, "Sizzle—" Vermithor roared with its head held high, its gigantic body soaring over the valley town, shielding hardworking young people from the scorching sun.
Ameon looked down. It had been two and a half months since Renira left, and the valley had undergone tremendous changes. First, the Raven Ridge and Lonely Mountain valley road had been completed. One section was fifty miles long, and another was thirty miles. The rugged mountain roads on both sides had been opened up, connecting Aelin Valley and Eastern Cape in a straight line. After discussions, it was decided to use the valley town as a starting point and prepare to connect the two valley roads. This way, there would be no more worries about travel.
"Sizzle—" Vermithor circled around Lonely Mountain. At the foot of Lonely Mountain, the valley city resembled a white jade capital, with three main halls standing tall, surrounded by majestic palace walls, neatly arranged. The side halls and auxiliary halls on both sides were under construction. It wouldn't be long before they would be completely finished. Beneath the valley city, two thick walls built of blue brick began to rise slowly. The outer wall currently stood three meters high and was eight and a half meters thick; the inner wall was one meter high and ten meters thick. Between the two walls, a residential area for the citizens was planned. At first glance, it had quite the shape of a city. It is known that cities with walls are rare. Among the five major ports of Westeros, only the capital, King's Landing, has sturdy city walls. Seagull Town is relatively good, with a half-meter-high white low wall. The other few ports are almost unprotected.
"With a city, we should develop agriculture and commerce." Ameon stood on the shoulder of a giant, very clear about what to do next. "Land!" He patted the bronze scales, signaling Vermithor to let him down.
... In the valley town, Ameon walked through the two walls to the center of the city. Thousands of young people were busy, laying thick slate on the sand, planning the streets and residences. The old craftsmen, experienced, had reserved a drainage system in advance and arranged for people to dig water channels. Everything was orderly and developing in a good direction. Along the way, he also saw a blacksmith shop and a tailor shop.
"Your Highness, you have returned." A well-proportioned red-haired figure walked out of a stone house.
"What are you doing here?" Ameon asked in surprise.
Jansfu bowed and smiled lightly, saying, "I've brought in women who can sew to do some embroidery work, which I'll then have someone sell at the market in Aelin Valley." The stone house behind her was the temporary workshop.
Ameon realized, "Then you are truly doing a great service; they will all be grateful to you." Strong young men worked while robust women cultivated the land. Some frail or elderly caregivers became burdens to their families instead. With an additional income source, they could also hold their heads high in their households.
"Thank you for the compliment." Jansfu's smile was infectious as she continued, "It was the inspiration from Manager Johanna that gave me this idea; she has set up tailor shops, grain shops, inns, and brothels in the four districts of the city." The correct version is currently being read! 6=9+ The first release of this novel. The various basic industries of subsistence are all addressed by the head of internal affairs. They added much vitality to the empty River Valley Town. It is indeed admirable.
"It really is different day by day." Ameon couldn't help but marvel. The River Valley Avenue was clear, and sooner or later, a large number of merchants would flood into River Valley Town, turning it into the main city of the valley.
"How is Seagull Town?" Jansfu asked proactively.
"Not good; it's completely closed to ports now." Ameon walked toward the blacksmith guild, intending to retrieve something.
Jansfu expressed her worries, saying, "Then what are your plans?" She knew how important maritime transport was to River Valley Town.
Ameon's eyes flashed, and he suddenly asked, "How much do you know about Count Weirwood of Iron Oak City?"
"I've heard he is not a generous person," Jansfu answered without hesitation.
Ameon said, "Iron Oak City is home to the largest freshwater lake in the valley; that lake is sourced from Long Lake, so Count Weirwood should have a small transport ship." As far as he knew, Long Lake was fed by water flowing from the Strait Sea into the interior. It splits into two. The south-flowing water forms Long Lake, while the north-flowing water forms the freshwater lake where Iron Oak City is located. During warm weather, boats could operate on both lakes.
Jansfu organized her wording and tactfully said, "Lord Weirwood is notoriously stingy and loves to marry off his daughter; he won't help easily."
"I can offer a certain payment," Ameon insisted. At the same time, he couldn't help but be curious about why Count Weirwood had such a poor reputation.
Jansfu shook her head. "If you plan to go to Iron Oak City, I suggest you bring more soldiers to strengthen your position."
"Does he dare take action against me?" Ameon was surprised.
"No, no, no," Jansfu repeatedly gestured, emphasizing, "Lord Weirwood has a fiery temper and loves to speak coarsely; he is somewhat like Sir Gangol." In noble circles, speaking coarsely is looked down upon and can easily provoke disputes.
"Oh, I see!" Ameon was greatly disappointed.
Jansfu: ? What are you disappointed about?
Walking and chatting along the way, they learned many gossips about the valley's nobility. Upon arriving at the blacksmith guild, Ameon asked her to wait while he went in to get something. Jansfu was not in a hurry at all and waited quietly.
Less than two minutes passed. Ameon walked out, a silver necklace now around his neck. Jansfu's gaze was sharp, immediately recognizing the necklace as the one often worn by the prince. It was inlaid with a sapphire, never leaving his side.
"Beep beep!" Ameon picked up the black whistle that was newly attached to the necklace and blew into it with all his strength. The whistle's sound was sharp and piercing, echoing for a long time. The volume was huge, highly recognizable. Jansfu covered her ears, barely managing to block the sound waves' interference.
"Screech!" Suddenly, a light grayish-white young dragon flew in from the horizon, peeking around in search of the whistle's sound.
"Beep beep!" Ameon's lung capacity was excellent, spreading the whistle sound across half of the valley town.
Lonely Mountain, Dragon's Nest. A silver-gray giant dragon coiled in the cave, vaguely hearing the noisy whistle, slowly opening its vertical pupils.
"Screech—" Vermithor was right by the dragon's nest, flying out with his partner, Silver Wing. In an instant, three giant dragons circled high in the sky.
"Beep beep!" Ameon's face turned red from holding his breath, and he began blowing the whistle rhythmically. Gray Shadow tilted its dragon head, landing on the rocky foot of the mountain.
"Screech!" Silver Wing soared at low altitude, its vertical pupils locked onto the silver-haired figure blowing the whistle, holding back the urge to unleash dragon fire. Vermithor flew alongside, pulling his partner back into the high sky.
This scene naturally shocked the townspeople of the valley. Seeing two dragons flying side by side, they put down their work and sincerely clasped their hands in prayer. Compared to the Old Gods and the Seven Gods, they revered the living dragons even more.
"Beep beep~~" After a while, the whistle sound abruptly stopped. Ameon took a deep breath, putting down the dragon-bone training whistle.
"Screech!" Gray Shadow, like a curious baby, fluttered its wings and hopped over. Its nostrils flared, repeatedly sniffing the silver-haired boy and the dragon bone whistle.
"You thief, you seem to have grown a bit," Ameon teased, gently and softly stroking the dragon's head. They had been migrating to the valley for almost half a year. Gray Shadow had grown from an initial length of six meters to eight meters, recently reaching a size of nine and a half meters, almost hitting the ten-meter mark. Young dragons typically grow faster, aiding in quickly passing through their juvenile stages. But Gray Shadow's growth rate was closely related to its good diet.
"Screech!" Gray Shadow shook its head, dodging the silver-haired boy's petting and stepping back two paces. It was a dragon of status and could not be casually touched by others.
"Stingy," Ameon rolled his eyes, looking at Vermithor and Silver Wing soaring in the sky. He initially wanted to summon Gray Shadow to test the effect of the dragon-bone whistle. Silver Wing's ability to fly out from Lonely Mountain was a pleasant surprise. The facts proved that giant dragons are very sensitive to sound and possess a certain level of discernment.