Outside the city gates, Daeron crossed a stone bridge. The grassy plains unfolded into rolling hills beneath the early afternoon sun.
He'd finally reached his new lands. Dismounting, he told Ser Jon and Count Owen to rest while he climbed to a nearby rise for a better view.
The landscape stretched wide and wild — waves of grass spotted with shrubs, a long hill ridge running east to west. Untamed, unclaimed, untouched.
"Not bad at all," he murmured, nodding in satisfaction.
This area was still part of his assigned fief — conveniently near both King's Landing and the eastern coast. Close to everything, yet blissfully free of people.
A perfect place to get some peace and quiet.
Owen Merryweather led his horse up behind him, slightly out of breath. "Your Grace, this used to belong to House Blackfyre — until Brynden Rivers, the 'Bloodraven,' razed it to the ground."
Daemon Blackfyre hadn't ruled the land long before his rebellion failed, and Bloodraven had wiped out every trace of his domain. For a hundred years since, no one had paid much attention to these hills.
But near the end of King Jaehaerys II's reign — Daeron's grandfather — a few refugee families from King's Landing had settled on the western edge.
So, yes — this was technically the land his grandfather left behind.
"Perfect," Daeron said, pleased.
He'd already analyzed the situation with Tywin: this "land grant" wasn't a reward, more a subtle test. A remote, unworked stretch of wilderness — impressive on paper, but meant to burden him.
And yet, what a prize.
North to the Blackwater Rush, east to the coast, south to the forest line, and west to the Mander's end — over two thousand square kilometers. A noble's estate large enough to rival a duchy.
Pros: Vast, fertile land.
Cons: Barely populated, no laborers.
Without his system, even five hundred gold dragons wouldn't scratch the surface of what this place needed.
He spotted a flat hilltop ahead — good drainage, open sky, central position. Ideal for a farm.
By the time they reached it, weeds as tall as his knees swayed in the wind, trees clustered thick nearby, and the ground lay littered with stones and fallen branches.
A small wooden cottage stood hidden beneath the shade of greenery — plainly built, but recently erected.
"Your Grace, I had this built per your instructions — a temporary residence," Owen said, wiping sweat from his brow.
He hesitated before speaking again, but said nothing more. The prince seemed far too happy about this wild patch of nothing. Owen could only pray Daeron wasn't another coin flip in the Targaryen family curse.
After all, as the saying went: "Every time a Targaryen is born, the gods toss a coin — greatness or madness."
Daeron, however, only smiled faintly. "Lord Owen, I'll stay here for a few days to get acquainted with the land. You can report back to the capital."
"Oh… yes, of course, Your Grace."
Flattery specialists knew when to leave — Owen mounted up and departed at once.
Once he was gone, Daeron found an excuse to send Ser Jon scouting nearby, finally giving himself a moment alone.
The mountain breeze brushed against his face — cool, sharp, and freeing.
"Let's do this," he whispered.
He summoned the glowing [Stardew Valley Interface], and under the five golden letters on the panel, selected:
Create New Farm.
- Name: Daeron Targaryen
- Farm Name: Dragon-Tongue Farm
- Favorite Thing: CN
- Preferred Animal: Dog
- Farm Type: Grassland Farm
He'd rehearsed this moment countless times in his head.
"Dragon-Tongue" was his favorite among the names he'd considered — Sweet Apple, Fertility, Long Summer — all discarded. "Dragon-Tongue" embodied his dream: to reclaim the Targaryen birthright, not by bloodline, but through his own creation.
He clicked confirm.
A soft white light swept across the plain. For a few seconds, Daeron closed his eyes, hearing the rhythmic wooden thunk of hammers and carpentry.
When the sound faded and he opened them again, the world had changed.
His cabin now looked slightly weathered, with a smoke chimney, a stack of firewood, and patched windows.
But the landscape — the landscape had transformed.
A dirt road stretched northward toward the hills, bordered by a fresh ring of wooden fencing that enclosed his new farm.
To the west, a narrow trail led to a small waterfall cascading beside a newly built chicken coop, surrounded by waist-high grass glowing faintly green-blue in the sunlight.
"It worked," Daeron breathed. "It's really a grassland farm."
He didn't bother exploring right away. In Stardew terms, the farm type was locked once chosen — and he knew exactly what he'd picked.
The Grassland Farm, introduced in version 1.6 of the game, had smaller planting space (about two-thirds the standard farm), but it came with one unbeatable perk —
A prebuilt chicken coop and two baby chickens.
Normally, that structure alone cost:
- 4,000 gold coins
- 300 wood
- 100 stone
And each chick cost 800 coins — meaning a total of 6,000–8,000 gold to start.
He, however, had just saved over ten thousand gold worth of setup.
"Incredible. A lucky start right out of the gate," he said, grinning. "Though I wonder how these gold coins convert to gold dragons…"
While musing, he searched the pasture for his two new farmhands.
Soon, two tiny chicks waddled out from the grass — one brown, one white.
"Grapes and Coconut, is it?" He couldn't help but chuckle.
The brown one tilted its head and chirped. The white one fluffed its wings proudly.
They were only hatchlings now, but in three days they'd mature — and start laying an egg each morning.
"Hello, little ones," Daeron said softly, kneeling to stroke their soft feathers through the fence.
These weren't just chickens.
They were the start of an empire.
Because now he understood — the red comet's return of magic wasn't random. Its energy resonated perfectly with the Stardew system itself.
And Dragon-Tongue Farm would become the beating heart of the Seven Kingdoms' greatest agricultural revolution —
the continent's first and most powerful source of vital-energy crops.