Even though Arthur had ordered everyone not to mention the Prince's Spear, the soldiers could hardly contain their excitement.
After all, the difference between a victorious army and a defeated one could be seen at a glance.
They hadn't shed blood or fought enemies this time, but they had achieved success nonetheless. That triumphant aura could not be hidden.
The fleet sailed upstream, returning toward Gohor.
Compared to their departure, the soldiers were far more relaxed. In a short time, it was unlikely that river bandits like Jim would appear again on the River Neron.
The Prince's Spear had given Viserys legitimate grounds to rule Gohor. And the library of Prince of Nasar was practically a small gold mine.
This journey had been full of gains.
More importantly, Viserys had learned from the old turtle the path to godhood: to obtain divinity through great deeds, and then receive godhood through the worship of others.
But why would beings who had already become gods still interfere with the affairs of mortals?
Sitting inside the cabin, Viserys stared out at the sky, unable to find an answer.
He wasn't qualified yet to grasp matters at that level. Better to return home, build his foundation, and only when his troops were strong would he consider such things.
When they arrived back at the castle, they noticed something was different.
Torches were lit all along the city walls. In their glow, the silhouettes of the guards could be clearly seen.
Gohor was sparsely populated due to constant wars. It was still far from reaching its capacity.
Villages were few and far between, and the desolate emptiness along the road made any sight of civilization feel comforting.
Standing beneath the tall, thick rammed-earth walls, the group finally felt warmth again—civilization.
Though earthen walls were not as strong as stone, the sense of safety they offered was unmatched.
And during their absence, an oak gate reinforced with iron plates had even been installed.
Learning of Viserys's return, Oswell, acting as "temporary lord," was already waiting. Maesters Fair and the other two were present as well.
Davos, who had once again transported people from Dragonstone, was there too. Moving population and supplies was backbreaking work—he would stay in Gohor for a while to rest.
Among the welcoming group, Viserys also spotted someone unexpected—Lyanna.
Even with a cloak and hood covering her, he recognized her at once.
"What is she doing here?"
"Your Majesty, you must be tired from the journey," Oswell and the others greeted him.
Since they hadn't been informed whether the expedition was successful, and it was dark enough that they couldn't clearly see the faces of the returning men, they didn't dare ask.
But Viserys's group was just as large as when they had left—meaning, at the very least, no major casualties.
"Mm. Let's go. We'll speak inside."
Viserys walked ahead, and everyone followed closely.
Hearing the lightness in his voice, Oswell quietly let out a breath of relief. He slipped over to Arthur's side.
Arthur didn't need to hear the question—he already knew.
"It was a success," Arthur whispered, patting the spear wrapped in burlap behind him.
"His Majesty will make the announcement soon. Don't ask here. Go settle the returning soldiers and limit their contact with outsiders."
Oswell's eyes lit up with excitement. He nodded and left to make arrangements.
Maester Faelor wasn't close to anyone in Viserys's group, so he couldn't ask privately. Instead, he took this chance to report current affairs.
"Your Majesty, as you ordered, the eastern, southern, and western walls of the Hall of Vhagar have been fully reinforced with a second stone layer.
The northern side is two-thirds complete—it will be finished within a week.
"At present, including the soldiers, there are around forty-six thousand people in Gohor. Another forty-two thousand remain on Dragonstone, waiting to be relocated.
"As for grain, we have enough for now. As long as we sow all the newly reclaimed land before the next planting season, we will be self-sufficient."
This, Faelor knew, was only possible because Viserys had won two campaigns in a row. If the wars had dragged on, no farmer would be at peace planting crops.
Viserys nodded, then turned to Adrian "the Old Crab."
"Your Majesty," the old crab said, "we still have seven hundred thousand gold dragons in Gohor's treasury.
Silver stags, copper stars, and Braavosi iron coins total the value of one hundred fifty thousand more. Plus the three million two hundred thousand on Dragonstone—"
"Wait," Viserys interrupted. "Didn't Dragonstone's treasury only have three hundred fifty thousand gold dragons in total?
We only brought forty thousand when we came, then sold warships for another forty thousand. We've built most of the city walls and bought lots of grain.
How do we have more money than before?"
The old crab grinned. "Your Majesty, you forgot? When we wiped out that bandit-mercenary alliance, we seized a huge amount of gold and supplies.
"Also, Prince Oberyn brought back quite a bit of gold from Pentos. White Nord's savings weren't small either.
"And some damaged armor isn't fit for proper battle anymore. So I contacted a few old business partners and sold it to a mercenary company."
Viserys looked at him with clear admiration. What initiative! If every one of his vassals worked like this, Robert would be locked in a cage dancing for him within a few years.
"Ser Adrian, I will remember your loyalty. When Clement and the others marry, I'll personally be their witness.
Also, take five thousand gold dragons from the treasury—consider it my reward to you."
"Five thousand? That… that's far too much, Your Majesty!"
"Too much? Then five hundred. Don't say that's too much either."
Seeing the old crab's expression—wanting it, yet embarrassed—Viserys could almost laugh. But he reminded himself—he was a king now, and kings must maintain dignity.
"No. You deserve it. Continue to serve me well, and I will find a bride with Valyrian blood for House Celtigar in the future."
"Thank you, Your Majesty. I will give you all my loyalty."
"Good. But remember—if loyalty is not absolute, it is absolute disloyalty. Do not betray the trust of House Targaryen again."
Viserys emphasized the word "again." After the brief reward and warning, the old crab's excited heart calmed down.
Once he had a basic grasp of finances and internal affairs, Viserys finally had a moment of peace—and Lyanna quietly approached his side.
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