Chapter 128

Aegor felt as if he’d just been slapped hard across the face.

Moments ago, he had been brimming with confidence, planning the future of the Night’s Watch industries and the logistics security division. His grand vision of building a peaceful enterprise in this chaotic world, borrowing inspiration from the Knights Templar to achieve wealth and power, seemed well within reach. But in an instant, reality hit him like a hammer.

He should’ve known better—this was the world of Game of Thrones. He was in King’s Landing, the storm’s eye, surrounded by intrigue and betrayal. Did he really expect the other players to politely give him time to build his army and financial empire without interference?

...

The power of rumors—Aegor had experienced it firsthand. The last time he spread a few notes, they triggered a rebellion across the Vale, costing thousands of lives. And now, someone else had used the same tactic, but the stakes were far higher. The new rumors were not only more explosive but also grounded in truth. Aegor didn’t even want to imagine the consequences.

Who was behind these notes?

Littlefinger was across the Narrow Sea. Could it be Varys? But how would plunging the realm into chaos so quickly benefit him? The earlier chaos would end sooner, leaving Westeros potentially stable again before the Targaryens could mount a proper invasion. Or… was there another transmigrator at work, stirring the pot?

Still, none of that mattered as much as the immediate problem. Aegor turned to Tyrion with a sharp glare. “What are you still doing here? Shouldn’t you be on your way back to Casterly Rock?”

“Call it sentimentality,” Tyrion said with a wry grin. “I’ve grown fond of this whole ‘finance’ business—it’s surprisingly fun. But the real reason is Robert. If he hadn’t gone to suppress the rebellion in the Vale, my head would already be on a spike outside the Red Keep.”

“You’re being reckless,” Aegor snapped. “Robert’s nearly finished with Lysa Arryn—she’ll be out of food soon and will have no choice but to surrender. Once he’s back in King’s Landing, if he chooses to believe these rumors—especially after last time—”

“He’ll have every Lannister in the capital beheaded. You don’t have to remind me,” Tyrion replied calmly. “Fortunately, I’ve already tracked down the source of the notes...” His smile turned sharp. “After Littlefinger fled to Braavos, his assets were confiscated by Eddard Stark in the name of the Iron Throne. Some of them were auctioned off, and I used Night’s Watch industry funds to acquire one of his brothels—cheap, too. When I inspected it, I discovered something interesting.”

Hearing that the culprit had been identified, Aegor felt some relief. But then a strange thought struck him—could this brothel now be called a Night’s Watch brothel? Shaking his head, he muttered, “And what exactly did you discover?”

“Littlefinger used the brothel as an intelligence hub. It was filled with hidden listening holes and spying devices, and the prostitutes were trained as informants,” Tyrion explained. “When I inherited this little gem, I put them to work finding out who was behind these notes. They told me that before fleeing to Braavos, Littlefinger returned to the brothel and instructed some of his agents to spread the rumors.”

Littlefinger again. Of course. But why had he been so careless this time? Oh—Aegor realized—he must have been in a rush to leave King’s Landing, with no plans to return. That would explain the recklessness. Damn it. The bastard was still causing trouble even from afar. Aegor gritted his teeth. You should’ve found a way to kill him when you had the chance.

But hindsight was useless. A few months ago, he had been powerless. Even now, with the Night’s Watch industries just starting to flourish, he couldn’t possibly eliminate someone as cunning and well-connected as Littlefinger.

“Have the people spreading the notes been caught?”

“Of course. Do you think I’d still be here otherwise?” Tyrion shrugged. “It’s obvious the first set of notes wasn’t spread by Littlefinger himself but by one of his enemies trying to bring him down. This time, he used the same tactic in retaliation. What puzzles me is why he targeted my brother and sister. Neither of them has the brains to orchestrate something like this. Besides, if Cersei or Jaime wanted to destroy someone, they wouldn’t use rumors—they’d go straight for the kill.”

Tyrion’s analysis was spot on. Aegor, the true instigator of the first rumor, could only offer a bitter smile, unsure of how to respond.

“Regardless, the public loves to see powerful figures fall. They don’t care about the truth,” Aegor finally said. “What happened to the people you caught?”

“As their brother, I thought it best to avoid involvement. I passed the information to a contact in the City Watch, who arrested them and handed them over to Eddard Stark. Our dutiful Hand of the King quickly issued a public statement debunking the rumors... but most people don’t believe him.”

As they neared the observation tower, Tyrion continued to vent his frustrations. “The fact that two sets of notes have circulated has created a narrative. People now believe there’s a vigilante exposing the wickedness of the Red Keep’s ‘elites.’ They think this mysterious figure is a champion of justice, revealing the depravity of the highborn so they can be punished. Eddard’s denial only makes him seem complicit in covering up a scandal.”

Justice and righteousness? Give me a break. Aegor frowned. The rumors had outgrown their origin. Even though the culprits had been caught, the implications were far from over. The Baratheon black hair and Lannister golden hair would remain a hot topic across King’s Landing and beyond.

Robert might dismiss the notes as lies—or they might spark doubts. If he started investigating, comparing the children’s hair colors against Baratheon lineage records, or if someone did something rash, the repercussions could be catastrophic. Aegor’s plans were small compared to the chaos that could ensue if the Seven Kingdoms descended into civil war again.

...

By the time they reached the observation tower, Aegor had made up his mind. “Tyrion, you need to leave for Casterly Rock and lay low for a while.”

“I agree,” Tyrion said. “But the reality is, the Night’s Watch industries can’t function without me right now. I need to use this time to transfer my contacts and resources to you, arrange everything properly... so that if trouble does arise, I can leave at a moment’s notice.”

Aegor appreciated having such a reliable teammate but didn’t want Tyrion to risk his life. “Fine. But if you’ve paved the way this thoroughly and I still can’t manage to hold things together, I might as well pack up and return to Castle Black.”

“Exactly!” Tyrion laughed. “But it’s not as complicated as it seems. With the right people in place, most of it will run itself. Enough talk—let’s head to the top of the tower and take a good look at our empire before we continue. Gods, this climb is exhausting!”

The observation tower wasn’t tall—four or five stories at most, no higher than twenty meters. For Aegor, it would’ve been a quick climb. But for Tyrion, the ascent was arduous. By the time they reached the top, he was wheezing.

In the east, the blood-red comet still hung in the sky. In the west, the sun dipped toward the horizon, casting golden rays across the land. Leaning against the railing, Aegor surveyed the entirety of the Night’s Watch industrial park below.

...