Chapter 379

Aegor froze for half a second, the breath catching in his throat as realization struck him. This wasn’t some groundbreaking discovery—it was his own tunnel vision at work. He had fallen into the trap of "knowing too much without practical experience" and had gotten stuck in a dead end.

He had remembered that the fluffy "snowflakes" forming on the walls of toilets, stables, and pens were saltpeter. He knew the soil beneath those walls contained the bacteria necessary for traditional saltpeter production. But he had forgotten the most crucial detail: the saltpeter on the walls had originally come from the soil beneath them. Using this soil as a starter for saltpeter production was indeed the sustainable, long-term solution, but if time was of the essence, directly boiling this soil to extract saltpeter would also do the trick.

Compared to traditional saltpeter production, this direct boiling method was a stopgap measure—a short-sighted practice akin to killing the goose that laid the golden egg. But desperate times called for desperate measures. With the current urgency, these "golden eggs" needed to be used immediately to save lives. There was no room for dogmatic thinking about setting up a perfect production chain first.

Damn it. Aegor quickly realized another oversight. He had insisted on setting up saltpeter production in King’s Landing because the climate of the Gift was too cold, and tools and materials were scarce there. But if they were simply boiling nitrate-rich soil, the location wouldn’t matter. If he had realized this earlier, the entire North could have been producing saltpeter months ago.
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Lost time couldn’t be recovered, but better late than never. Though he mentally berated himself for the oversight, Aegor showed no sign of his frustration on the surface. “So this is the case? How much saltpeter can you extract from this soil, and what’s the quality like?”

“It varies depending on the quality of the soil,” Qyburn replied honestly. “After some trial and error, my assistants and I developed a simple method to identify suitable soil: crush it and sprinkle it onto red-hot charcoal. If it sparks, it contains saltpeter. We scrape the soil layer by layer, stopping when the quality starts to decline. As for output, a cartload of good soil can produce about a small jar of saltpeter. However, since we haven’t found a reliable way to separate the salt from impurities, the quality is inconsistent.”

“We’ve incorporated soil collection into our trading caravans’ tasks,” Nina added, clearly familiar with every detail of the operations Aegor had ordered. “When our caravans leave, they take Night’s Watch goods to sell. Once they reach their destination, part of the team conducts exploratory surveys for nitrate deposits while the rest sells the goods. Afterward, they scour local toilets, stables, and pens for the naturally occurring white flakes—high-quality saltpeter—which are scraped off and stored separately. Then they dig layers of soil from the corners to load onto carts. Of course, digging on noble lands often requires compensation. If the landowners are willing to accept goods, we barter; otherwise, we pay in copper or silver coins. As for those who demand exorbitant prices, we simply move on. There are plenty of toilets and stables across the Seven Kingdoms.”

Aegor’s smile returned. This was the advantage of collective wisdom. Though he possessed knowledge far beyond this world’s imagination, he was not infallible—nor did he claim to be. His methodical, theory-driven thinking sometimes led him into avoidable dead ends. In such cases, having capable subordinates who could spot gaps and provide practical solutions made all the difference.

“Excellent!” he said, his approval unreserved. “Where’s the boiling site? Take me there.”

“The carriage is ready outside,” Nina said. She had anticipated Aegor’s interest and prepared accordingly.
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A short ride later, the group arrived at the boiling site, less than a mile away. From a distance, the rising steam and smoke from burning fuel were visible, creating an industrial atmosphere that resembled a battlefield of the early gunpowder era. Along the Blackwater, where the threat of war loomed and most industries were scaling back production to prepare for winter, this operation stood out as the only project ramping up. It was running day and night, employing large numbers of workers displaced from other departments.

The boiling site itself wasn’t particularly noteworthy. It was essentially an expanded version of the experimental facility, with rows of pots, pans, and furnaces organized in a more structured layout to leave space for pathways. Workers stirred boiling liquids in massive cauldrons, hauled carts of coal, and carefully collected the final product: chunks of yellowish-white saltpeter, which were broken into smaller pieces and stored in ceramic jars.

“The dense population of the Crownlands has worked to our advantage,” Nina explained as they entered. “Before Daenerys landed, we had already transported large quantities of nitrate-rich soil here. There’s still some left. As for fuel, the Crownlands have strict controls on firewood, so we’ve been purchasing cheap, low-quality coal from the Riverlands. It doesn’t burn hot and produces a lot of smoke, but it’s sufficient for this purpose since the boiling process can be done in semi-open environments.”

At that moment, Qyburn suddenly exclaimed as if struck by inspiration. “Ah! A few weeks ago, the boiling site manager reported that large amounts of salt would sink to the bottom during the process. I’ve been pondering how to use this to separate the saltpeter from the impurities. Now that I think about it, isn’t this exactly what you described earlier, my lord—‘different substances dissolve at different rates, and their solubility changes with temperature’? Perhaps cooling the boiled liquid afterward could precipitate the saltpeter out!”

Clever. Even if the method wasn’t perfect, it was close enough. Aegor realized that the “salt” and “saltpeter” his subordinates referred to were likely sodium chloride and potassium nitrate, respectively. While he couldn’t recall their exact solubility curves, Qyburn’s idea seemed like a practical approach to further purify the product.

But Aegor had no time for commendations. “Where’s the finished stock? How much saltpeter have we produced so far?”

“This way, my lord.”
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After a string of pleasant surprises, Aegor was visibly disappointed when he finally saw the stockpile. “Is that all? Judging by the activity in the boiling site, there should be more.”

Nina chuckled. “You misunderstand, my lord. This is just today’s morning output. You stressed how critical this resource is, so I wouldn’t dare leave it lying around. Every day’s production is carted back to Blackwall Keep and stored in the fireproof, waterproof, and theft-proof main warehouse. I haven’t checked in days, but I’d guess we’ve filled nearly half the warehouse by now. The first shipment should have already been sent to the Gift, but the Dragon Queen’s fleet has blockaded Blackwater Bay, and her Unsullied have cut off the Kingsroad north. Everything is still stuck at Blackwall Keep.”

“My lord, most of it is still in an unrefined state,” Qyburn interjected. “Give me half a month—no, just a week—and I’ll have it all purified.”

“No, I can’t afford to wait.” Aegor exhaled, shaking his head. “Pack your things. Take the assistants you trust most and prepare to leave with me for the Gift. We can’t set up saltpeter production in the frozen north, but boiling soil is feasible. Nina, send someone to Blackwall Keep immediately. Have the workers load all the stock onto the Blackbird. We’ll set sail tomorrow at noon. I’ll stop by to meet King Stannis or the Hand before we leave. As for purification, the alchemists in Hohkram Town can handle it. The separated salt can even address the Gift’s shortage.”
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