Aemon smiled and walked back to the crowd slowly.

The same words.

At the critical moment, be alert and don't lose face!

The brave enjoy everything first, courage needs no words.

"Mom, there are probably slaves on the ship."

Aemon reminded.

Lady Rhea was still immersed in shock, staring at her silly son for a while, as if she had just met him for the first time.

"Prince, you are simply a reincarnation of a warrior."

Sir Steve was so excited that he couldn't think of other words to praise the shocking act.

Can only say that he is worthy of Daemon's blood?

Or, it is really as the rumors say.

Every time a Targaryen is born, the gods will toss a coin to decide whether he is crazy or great.

"Hush!"

Aemon put his finger on his lips and said calmly: "Praise the dragon, ser."

He is not a child anymore.

His Royal Highness needs a dragon and a fiefdom, and then build a strong town to make it a rich place.

Words of praise are outdated, not as good as actual benefits.

Sir Steve suppressed his excitement, nodded vigorously, and stayed by the prince's side.

At this time, Lady Rhea came back to her senses.

The sea was full of corpses, and the sailors were ordered to salvage the sunken ship.

Half an hour passed.

A group of young and strong men in coarse linen clothes were rescued and boarded the ship. They had tattoos on their faces and necks, and they were crowded at the bow with timid expressions.

There were probably hundreds of people, all slaves who were craftsmen.

There were all kinds of craftsmen, and they could be identified by the tattoos on their bodies.

Among them, there was also a young girl with a torn dress, who looked like the daughter of a noble lord.

Aemon looked at them and secretly calculated how rare it was to be a craftsman.

As for the beautiful girl with long black hair...

Sorry!

Targaryen men are only interested in silver-haired women riding dragons.

"Prince, look at what this is."

Sir Steve pried open a box, and a black bone bow was placed inside.

The bone bow was not a longbow, but a highly skilled recurve bow.

The whole body is as black as ink, with sharp horns at both ends, and the bowstring is the tendon of some powerful creature.

"Dragon bone bow!"

Aemon recognized it at a glance and took the black bone bow that was as tall as his body.

It felt heavy in his hand, not cold and piercing, but thick and warm.

The panel prompt sounded at the right time.

"Found an item containing rare magic, get magic essence +1."

Aemon was stunned when he heard the voice, and there was an unexpected gain.

On second thought, it is normal for dragon bones to have some magic left, and it is even more precious when made into weapons.

It is not lower than the bronze armor.

Sir Steve said happily: "This batch of slaves is the goods sold to Pentos, and this dragon bone bow is even more precious."

"Thank you, sir."

Aemon smiled and hugged the heavy dragon bone bow.

As the name suggests, the bow body is made of dragon bones.

On the other side of the strait sea, dragon bones and dragon horns are precious things, and they are often auctioned at high prices.

King's Landing also has it, but it lacks the craftsmanship of polishing dragon bones.

The dragon bone bow in his hand is hard and the details are polished perfectly. It is probably the work of a top craftsman of "Qohor".

Compared with it, the small wooden bow was destroyed in seconds.

"Aemon, come here."

Lady Rhea frowned and pointed at the craftsmen and slaves: "Tell them that they will be released in Gulltown and fend for themselves."

These are foreigners, speaking Valyrian.

Aemon obeyed obediently and acted as an interpreter.

After a moment of silence, he took the initiative to say: "Mom, keep them."

"Turtle Stone City does not need so many craftsmen."

Lady Rhea looked around, not wanting to support so many people in vain.

Aemon looked up and said seriously: "Leave it to me, it will always be useful."

More than a hundred craftsmen cannot be found in King's Landing in a short time.

The valley is relatively backward, and it is time to use people.

Lady Rhea stared into her son's eyes, thought for a moment, and agreed: "They belong to you, and you pay for their food and drink."

"No problem."

Aemon smiled.

Lady Rhea waved her hand, signaling the sailors to take the craftsman slaves away.

Afterwards, she called the fifty knights of the Vale who were accompanying her.

Aemon's eyes were clear, for some reason.

Lady Rhea rubbed his head, rarely showing satisfaction, and said: "In view of your performance, these fifty knights of the Vale will be under your command in the future, and they will be loyal to you wholeheartedly."

"Really?"

Aemon couldn't believe it.

Fifty knights of the Vale are already a force that cannot be underestimated.

Lady Rhea affirmed: "People in our family are as good as a spit."

Give it as soon as you say it, to build momentum for your son.

The blood cousins ​​of Runestone City are complicated, and they are bound to oppose Targaryen as the heir, so they need to lay the foundation in advance.

Aemon was surprised and happy, thinking that today is a good day.

It doesn't matter whether Dad Daemon comes back or not.

Dragonbone bows, craftsman slaves, and valley knights directly meet the needs of developing fiefdoms, and a small team can be formed.

"You go down first."

Lady Rhea gave Gunsor a look, indicating that he should take his son to familiarize himself with the army.

The valley knights watched the eyes and noses and the noses and hearts, and had no objection to being loyal to a young prince, but were very much looking forward to it.

The scene of the prince shooting the pirates of the Three Women's Kingdom was vivid in his mind.

An eight-year-old child is like a reincarnation of a warrior.

The sailboat continued to sail.

Lady Rhea called the only girl dressed in aristocratic clothes and asked about her origins: "What is your name?"

The poor girl was relieved to have survived the disaster and confessed truthfully: "My name is Johanna Sven, and Earl Sven of Stonehelm is my uncle."

"Your uncle is an earl, why didn't he save you?"

Lady Leia had a strange expression.

Johanna lowered her head and bit her lower lip: "My uncle refused to pay the ransom..."

The rest was really hard to say.

If her uncle was reluctant to spend money, she would be sold to brothels in major free trade cities.

"Haha, Earl Sven is really unyielding."

Lady Leia laughed sarcastically and asked: "I have heard of you, do you want me to send someone to send you back?"

Johanna buried her head even lower, obviously dissatisfied with her cold-blooded uncle, and didn't want to go back and suffer cold eyes.

"Then stay in Runestone City and be my female companion."

Lady Leia knew her difficulties and took her in kindly so that she would not be homeless.

"Thank you, madam."

Johanna knelt on the ground and shed excited tears.

Iemon watched the whole process, looked at Johanna curiously, and then returned to the stern.

Johanna, the "Black Swan", is a famous socialite in Rees and half of the power behind the scenes.

She has experienced ups and downs in life, but she is also inspiring enough.

I heard about the Royal Hunting, but I didn't expect that she would be accidentally rescued by her own family.

Then she doesn't have to be sold to a brothel to suffer.

Keep her well, and she can be used in the future.

The sun gradually sets.

Facing the glory of the setting sun, the sea surface is rendered with a soft blush.

"Ah!!"

Iemon stood at the stern and screamed.

I saw the fish basket overturned again, and the full and full of fish were gone.

In addition to the charred marks, there was only a dead fish wrapped in sticky saliva.

It seems that the "fish thief" was full and vomited out by regurgitation.

"Bold, I must catch you!"

Iemon's eyes were blazing, and he sat on the small stool and began to cast the hook frantically.

Don't you like to eat fish?

Then fish!

If you dare, I'll fish all the way, and you can steal the fish all the way.

I'll eat you to death, you fish thief.

"Don't let me catch you, or you'll be in trouble."

Imon thought bitterly.

Dragons are not tools, but highly intelligent creatures with flesh and blood.

Every dragon is cute.

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