The Reach truly was wealthy, and as the victor, it was only natural to enjoy the spoils that belonged to him.
In Highgarden Castle, one of the gardens had already been cleared out and repurposed as Robert's "dragon lair."
Outside the main gate, cart after cart of live sheep was brought inside.
And in order to prevent the horses from being frightened by the terrifying creature within, more than a hundred meters before reaching the garden—separated by several walls—the shepherds had already driven the live sheep down from the carts.
Kal stood on high ground, leaning against the white marble battlements, propping his chin on his hand as he watched Robert devour his food with gusto below.
After not seeing him for quite some time, the little fellow's growth rate had far exceeded his expectations.
He had originally thought that Robert would only grow quickly when young, then gradually slow down as he got bigger, but he had not expected this fellow to give him such a pleasant surprise.
"Your Grace, this… is this really Robert?"
Arys Oakheart had followed at Kal's side ever since Kal became king in King's Landing, so he was naturally quite familiar with this dragon.
But the creature before his eyes—head lowered, completely absorbed in stuffing itself with food—compared to the death god on the battlefield whose dragonfire scorched the skies, seemed as if it were not even the same dragon.
Moreover, in such a short period of time, it had actually grown this large.
At this moment, as it lay coiled within the garden, counting from head to tail, it already looked as though even the garden before them was somewhat insufficient for it to maneuver.
If it were to stand up, even without spreading its wings, it would be large enough to rival a sheepfold.
One had to remember that when he and the king left Casterly Rock, it had seemed to be only about the size of a calf.
Just what had it been eating to grow like this?
In the stories, weren't the dragons of House Targaryen described as needing decades—sometimes even the span of several generations—to grow into their prime?
Yet this dragon, from birth until now, had only been alive for a few short months, and it had already reached the point of becoming an absolute deterrent in war.
"If it weren't for it, you wouldn't be standing here so easily. You might even be getting chased and beaten right now."
In response to Arys's expression of disbelief, Kal cracked a joke.
After speaking, he patted the stone bricks of the wall, stood up, and turned around.
"How are things on the battlefield being handled?"
Seeing the king turn to serious matters, Arys immediately replied, "They're already being dealt with, but there are too many people and it's too chaotic. If everything is to be fully handled, my mother says it will probably take three to four days."
"Mm." Kal nodded, rubbing his chin. "Leave the common soldiers aside for now. First, sort out those knights and nobles, and do your best to gather the soldiers together."
"As for those knights and nobles, conduct a preliminary judgment first. For those whose issues aren't too serious, notify their families to ransom them back, and at the same time list the war reparations as well—make sure to come down hard on them."
"Those with more serious problems should be detained first and not dealt with for the time being. Have these people imprisoned for now."
"Let your mother, Lady Arwyn Oakheart, handle this matter. If she can't manage it alone, have Lord Randyll Tarly help her as well. While you're at it, tell your mother that once this matter is concluded, I will restore the honor of House Oakheart."
"Thank you for Your Grace's mercy!"
That the king would first address his own family's affairs, and at such a level of light punishment meant as a warning, deeply moved Arys. Although he had already become part of the Kingsguard and it no longer concerned him directly, he still bowed with a grateful expression to Kal.
No matter how far one might separate from one's family, the bond of blood could never truly be severed.
"There's no need to be so restrained. Along this road, I've seen the loyalty of House Oakheart. This is honor that rightfully belongs to you."
Kal patted Arys on the shoulder and offered a faint smile as he spoke in reassurance.
He then clasped his hands behind his back and turned to walk forward.
Arys hurriedly followed.
But as they walked, Kal suddenly spoke again, asking another question.
"Speaking of this, from your perspective, do you think Randyll Tarly would pledge loyalty to me as House Oakheart has?"
At this question, Arys instinctively froze for a moment. Still, he shook his head and did not give a direct answer.
Instead, with a solemn expression, he said, "I don't know, Your Grace. Do you wish for me to verify his loyalty to you?"
Not having expected such a reply from Arys, Kal couldn't help but laugh.
"No, there's no need. Jon has already verified his thinking for me. After all, in today's battle, more than half of the tactics came from his suggestions, didn't they?"
Hearing Kal say this, Arys froze once more. He hadn't expected that yesterday's meeting had contained such a deeper layer of probing.
He couldn't help but glance again at the towering figure walking ahead of him, unconsciously lowering his head a little further.
More and more, from this man who was not yet even twenty years old, he could feel a pressure and authority like standing before an abyss.
The two of them said nothing more along the rest of the way, until Kal stopped when they reached the garden where Robert was.
"Go down. I don't need your escort. Next, go find Jon and have him put together a cavalry unit of three thousand men for you. From now on, that cavalry will be under your command."
Arys, who had been following behind Kal, head tilted back in awe as he stared at the golden giant dragon before him, heard these words without the slightest mental preparation.
He was stunned for a moment, then finally understood what Kal meant.
"Your Grace, you… as a member of the Kingsguard, protecting you is my duty."
There was a trace of panic on Arys's face. At present, counting himself and the newly joined Garlan Tyrell, there were only three Kingsguard at Kal's side. Even rotating duties was already somewhat strained, yet now the king was ordering him to lead troops.
Although this was another form of trust, compared to that, Arys was far more accustomed to standing guard at Kal's side.
But in response to his words, Kal merely shook his head.
"No. From this point on, I don't need too many people at my side. On the contrary, it's more important for you to take command."
"I'll give you one month to familiarize yourself with your cavalry regiment and to become proficient in coordinating with the other branches. After things here are settled, you'll need to take this force to garrison the Dornish frontier."
"If possible, you may even need to go to Sunspear on my behalf."
"That will be all for now. You may go—and on your way, have Garlan Tyrell come see me."
Kal left Arys no room for choice. Now that Highgarden had been taken, the matters that followed would only grow more numerous, and there were not many people he could readily put to use.
Yet even having taken Highgarden did not mean he had fully secured the Reach. Marching south, the territory he had actually subdued amounted to only that much, and the reach of his influence was still limited.
So there was still much he needed to do next.
On top of that, pressing the advantage to resolve matters with his two uncles was no longer so important.
If his plans were to be laid smoothly, the situation in the Reach had to be properly handled—and done so in a way that left no future troubles.
As he thought over these matters, Kal made some calculations in his mind, with no clear sense of how much time it would all take.
But—
It wasn't as if there were no way.
Kal looked at Robert sprawled before him, gulping down sheep with loud crunches, and the corners of his mouth lifted into a smile.
Seeing that the king's resolve was set, Arys had no choice but to bow and withdraw.
And Kal walked toward his precious treasure.
"Eat more. Grow faster."
Hearing Kal's voice, Robert lifted his head. Before him appeared piles of his favorite food—crocodile beasts, wild boars, even bears, along with several corpses of green-skinned, pointy-eared creatures.
Most importantly, there was also a large basin filled with that blue little drink that emitted a faint, lingering glow.
Delighted, Robert stretched out his neck and let out a loud roar, then skillfully poured a burst of dragonfire over the heaps of corpses.
Kal stood to the side watching. The dragonfire that scattered outward also washed over him.
Yet he did not move. Instead, he even reached out to feel the temperature of the dragonfire.
Not a single thread of his clothing was damaged.
That was because this cyan-green brocade robe was a special garment he had had made—taking time to return to the game world and having that tailor process fragments of volcanic dragon eggshell into it.
From now on, his clothing would likely all be custom-made by that tailor.
After rewarding this great contributor, Kal turned around and closed the garden gate, and strictly ordered that no one was to approach Robert without his command.
Afterward, Garlan came to see Kal. Kal spoke with him at length, and also told him how he intended to deal with House Tyrell.
Garlan had long been mentally prepared for this matter.
And Kal, taking into account his timely pledge of loyalty and Margaery's sake, stated that he would not execute Garlan's father, Mace Tyrell, nor his brother, Willas Tyrell.
But the Tyrell family's titles—Lord of Highgarden, Warden of the South, Warden of the Marches, Supreme Lord of the Reach, and the like—along with their family honor and fiefs, were all stripped away by Kal.
Overnight, a failed war and a wrong choice of allegiance caused House Tyrell to fall from the clouds to the mortal world, losing everything.
Garlan bit his lip as he listened to the king's disposition of his family. At last, he gathered his courage and lifted his head to look at him.
"Your Grace, will you give my sister Margaery a child?"
Garlan's gaze toward Kal was filled with unease and fear, but even so, he still looked at the towering figure before him with a trace of expectation as he asked this question.
Kal, of course, understood what he meant.
Because Garlan's purpose in asking this was simply to know whether House Tyrell still had a chance.
Garlan was equally clear about the fate of House Lannister, yet he also knew that one of the people the king trusted most before him bore the name Lannister as well.
Even during the time Kal was away at war, his castle had been entrusted to that very person to manage.
It could be said that Kal had placed his back and his vulnerability into the hands of this person who still carried the Lannister name.
Looking at the anxious yet hopeful Garlan, Kal's expression remained impassive, his fingers unconsciously tapping against the armrest of the chair in which he sat.
When the pressure on Garlan grew heavier and heavier, to the point that beads of sweat could not help but seep from his forehead, Kal finally spoke.
"If I can see your loyalty, rather than false deception, then Margaery will bear my child."
"And in the future, the Reach will also be handed over to him to inherit and govern."
Gulp.
Garlan swallowed with difficulty, the mouthful of saliva barely moistening a throat that had gone dry from waiting.
He knew exactly what kind of deception Kal was referring to, and he also knew what his grandmother, Olenna Redwyne, had done at the very moment Kal descended upon Highgarden astride his dragon.
He bent forward respectfully and knelt on both knees.
"Thank you for Your Grace's mercy!"
"Go. Like Arys, go find Jon and take command of a cavalry unit. I want to see your performance."
With those few words, Kal set the overall tone for the fate of House Tyrell and of the Reach's nobles who had taken part in the war. Immediately thereafter, the postwar Reach began to change in full swing.
...
In the blink of an eye, a week passed. It took that full week for Jon and the others to more or less clean up the aftermath of the war, bringing matters to the final stage.
Highgarden, the great hall.
Kal sat upright in the seat of honor.
Along the long table, with Jon at the head, the others took their seats on both sides.
Garlan stood behind Kal, treating himself as a mere wine steward as he attended to those present.
Lord Randyll Tarly, Ser Sandor Clegane, Ser Arys Oakheart, Lady Arwyn Oakheart, Ser Balon Swann, Ser Bronn, and the rest were all present.
Among them was even the Maester, who had originally served House Tyrell of Highgarden.
Amid an atmosphere that was subdued yet taut with tension, Kal turned his head to look at Randyll, seated to his right.
"Lord Randyll Tarly, I believe you have already made your decision."
As Kal's words fell, every gaze at the long table turned toward this famed commander of the Seven Kingdoms.
Under the weight of so many eyes, Randyll lowered his head and let out a sigh. Then, without hesitation, he rose from his seat, walked forward, and knelt on one knee before Kal.
"Your Majesty, King Kal I of House Baratheon, the House of Tarly of Horn Hill offers you its loyalty."
Seeing the stiff old man finally bow in formal submission, Kal smiled. He then beckoned, and Garlan immediately took a massive two-handed greatsword down from a rack at the side and brought it over.
"This is Heartsbane of House Tarly. I return it to its rightful owner."
Kal lifted the greatsword with one hand and held it out before Randyll.
Staring at the blade before him, Randyll's eyes widened as he looked up at Kal. His expression shifted several times. He wanted to reach out, yet in the end, he drew his hand back.
"This is your war trophy. You obtained it on the battlefield—this is your honor."
Faced with his family's Valyrian steel sword, Randyll ultimately did not have the nerve to shamelessly take it back from Kal's hand.
Kal had defeated him fair and square on the battlefield and claimed Heartsbane.
And in that battle, he had lost completely convinced.
He knew very clearly that everything had been calculated against him, leading to his defeat—and that the greater part of that defeat stemmed from his own impatience and contempt.
He harbored no resentment over his loss.
Even if it meant losing Heartsbane.
Seeing Randyll make this choice, Kal thought for a moment, then withdrew Heartsbane.
"You lost it with honor, and you can also reclaim it with honor."
"I look forward to that day."
After saying this, Kal did not wait for Randyll to speak again. Instead, he directly turned to look at everyone seated around the council table and declared loudly: "I am preparing to go to Oldtown."
"Yes—on dragonback."
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