Chapter 354

Aegor confessed his plan, but not because he was an honest man.

Aside from maintaining a semblance of trust between himself and the Red Priestess, there was another reason: after learning that Dark Sister was no ordinary Valyrian steel sword, he wavered.

Since his original plan to sell the sword was now almost certainly doomed, there was no harm in admitting it.

Valyrian steel swords, more symbolic than practical, rarely circulated in trade—they were priceless and without a market. If one had to assign a conservative value, it might be worth 200,000 to 300,000 gold dragons. Selling it to Tywin for 100,000 gold dragons, half its estimated value, might be seen as a minor loss but an overall fair deal for both sides.

But this wasn’t just any Valyrian steel sword—it was a Dragonlord’s sword. How could its value be measured? The magical enchantments within Dark Sister were dozens of times more potent than those of a typical Valyrian steel blade. Did that mean its price should also multiply by the same factor?

No. Even a layman would understand that the value of a magical item increases exponentially with its power. Aegor suspected that if someone were to name a price for Dark Sister, ten million gold dragons wouldn’t be an unreasonable starting point.

However, much like the Wall, Dark Sister was ultimately priceless. As the largest magical construct in the world, the Wall’s value couldn’t truly be calculated, but no one would ever buy its “ownership.” The Lannisters didn’t need a Dragonsteel sword; they merely wanted a regular, unblemished Valyrian blade to display as their "house sword." To Tywin or anyone who wasn’t fighting White Walkers, the sword’s magical abilities were meaningless.

And yet, Aegor himself was someone who would soon be fighting White Walkers.

Selling a Valyrian steel sword worth hundreds of thousands of gold dragons for a fraction of its price might be acceptable to Aegor. But selling Dark Sister for a mere one percent of its value? That was wasteful to the point where even he would wake up from nightmares cursing himself for being such a spendthrift.
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"Alright, I admit this sword might be extraordinary," Aegor said, forcing a pained smile. "But... my thinking was that if I could use the money to buy arms and equipment, wouldn’t that be more effective than adding one more White Walker-killing sword?"

Melisandre scoffed at his reasoning. To her, the idea of selling Lightbringer—a blade countless followers of R’hllor had sought in vain, now delivered into the hands of the prophesied hero—was not only absurd but insulting.

Her piercing gaze cut through him. "And who, exactly, would you buy from?"

It was a short question, but it hit the mark. Aegor found himself momentarily speechless.

In a world of primitive productivity, the problem wasn’t a lack of money but a scarcity of goods.
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In the most peaceful times, a wandering knight needed only ten gold dragons to fully outfit themselves with weapons, armor, and a horse, prepared to compete in a tourney or seek a lord’s service.

But if someone like Tywin Lannister suddenly decided to equip and arm a thousand men to bolster Lannisport’s garrison, would ten thousand gold dragons suffice?

Not even close. Even one hundred thousand might fall short. There simply weren’t enough craftsmen or suppliers to produce that many weapons and armor on short notice. Once demand spiked, prices for such goods would skyrocket.

This was why every lord stocked their armories during peacetime, purchasing from blacksmiths at lower prices to prepare for future wars.

Now, with the continent engulfed in the chaos of the War of the Five Kings, no one was unaffected. The great houses were locked in fierce combat, and even those not yet fighting were poised for war, their armories likely empty and their craftsmen conscripted to provide free labor for their lords.

What about Essos?

Thanks to Daenerys Targaryen’s disruption in Slaver’s Bay and the Red Priests’ apocalyptic preaching, cities and villages across the Narrow Sea—regardless of their stance on slavery—were also preparing for the worst.

In this world of endless conflict, Aegor realized he might not even be able to buy sufficient arms and equipment, no matter how much money he had. His lands would have to produce their own.

“Fine, I might not be able to buy much,” Aegor admitted, acknowledging the flaws in his initial plan. It had been an impulsive thought, after all. “But Crown's Rest is developing specialized weapons against wights and White Walkers. That will require funding.”
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“How much money do you need?” Melisandre demanded sharply.

How much money?

Aegor calmed himself and thought it through. To his own surprise, the answer became clear: though the Night’s Watch was deeply in debt, they weren’t currently short on funds.
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The expenses for Icecanyon Port’s warships and the Wall’s food supplies were covered by the North and the Iron Bank, respectively. The costs for locating saltpeter mines and developing rudimentary gunpowder techniques were managed by Nina and her industry.

That left Crown's Rest. Monthly expenses there included wages for the hundreds of support staff, purchases of tools and supplies that couldn’t be locally produced, and research costs for cannons and explosives. Altogether, these amounted to about four thousand gold dragons per month.

Four thousand a month might sound extravagant, but it was manageable, especially since Tyrion Lannister had recently approved a loan of forty thousand gold dragons to the Night’s Watch.

With those funds, the immediate crisis was averted, and they could hold out for a while longer.

The real bottlenecks, Aegor realized, weren’t money but people, technology, and resources. Skilled personnel and basic infrastructure couldn’t simply be bought, and materials for gunpowder and cannons required painstaking collection and production. Progress in a low-tech, resource-scarce world was painstakingly slow.
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“I understand the Night’s Watch owes a significant debt, but now is not the time to focus on repayment,” Melisandre said, her tone softening as she noticed Aegor deep in thought. “The High Priest Benerro of the Red Temple in Volantis is already raising funds for the Watch. Trust me, the burden won’t be as heavy as you fear. And regardless, Lightbringer must remain in your hands. There’s no room for negotiation.”

So that’s why she’d asked about money—she had her own sources of funding lined up! Aegor silently wondered just how many Red Temple followers there were in Volantis, and what sort of wealth they might hold.

Reluctantly, Aegor nodded. “Alright, you’ve made your point. I promise I won’t sell the sword.”
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Having received his assurance, Melisandre relaxed, but Aegor’s mind continued to wander.

Valyrian steel swords could kill White Walkers. A Dragonsteel sword, with enchantments dozens of times more powerful, should theoretically be able to do the same—split into dozens of pieces.

Why hadn’t he thought of this sooner? As a transmigrator, why had he let this world’s limitations narrow his thinking?

“Melisandre, forgive me,” Aegor interrupted, raising his hand. “I have a question. If I were to melt this sword down and forge it into dozens of smaller items, would they still retain the ability to kill White Walkers?”