The victory at the Trident was more than a military triumph; it was a revelation that shattered the political foundations of Westeros. As the Silver Legion marched back North, they carried carts laden with heavy, rattling chests containing Demon Teeth, Monster Fangs, and the pulsing, glowing hearts of Infernium. The news that stunned the realm was simple yet terrifying: the monsters were no longer just a threat; they were a resource.
Unlike the kings of old, Philips Lancaster did not keep his knowledge under lock and key. However, he did not hand out precise recipes like kitchen instructions. Instead, he provided the Truth—the fundamental principles of demonic resonance and the specific properties of materials like Infernium and Demon Teeth.
"I will not tell you how to strike your anvil," Philips declared to the gathered blacksmiths of the realm. "I will only tell you that the Abyss does not respect human iron. It only respects its own."
By providing only the "Why" and the "How," Philips sparked a wildfire of independent innovation. Blacksmiths across the Seven Kingdoms, driven by desperation and a new, dark ambition, began to experiment on their own. They realized that Simeon the Botcher's philosophy—combining a Bestial Axe, Iron Ore, and Silver—was only the first step. Soon, forges from Lannisport to White Harbour were producing unique variations of demonic weaponry, each blade reflecting the ingenuity of its maker.
The stories of Simeon the Botcher and Bisith the Mage spread to every corner of the world. They were no longer obscure names from a transmigrator's memories; they were the patron saints of a new age.
Simeon's Legacy: Every apprentice learned the story of the man who ignored aesthetics to create the Bestial Axe and Evisceration Cleavers. Blacksmiths praised his efficiency, seeing his "botched" style as the ultimate mark of a survivor.
Bisith's Ghost: The tale of the king's scholar who studied the forbidden arts became both a warning and an inspiration. His Occult Staves and Trophies of Death were recognized as the pinnacle of spirit-crafting, turning the remains of Liches and Skeletons into tools of survival.
The realization of the importance of these materials—once considered filth—stunned the continent:
Demon Teeth & Monster Fangs: These became the new gold. Blacksmiths discovered that without these anchors, a Ferocious Cleaver of the Ancient Demon would shatter upon its first strike against a high-tier Archon.
Infernium Ore: The "Blood of the Abyss" was now recognized as the only binding agent capable of merging iron with the supernatural.
In King's Landing, Aerys II sat amidst useless piles of silver, watching his kingdom's foundations crumble. He realized the most bitter truth: his "royal authority" was worthless without the Great Crafts. Every lord in Westeros now looked to their own blacksmiths—men who spent their nights whispering the names of Simeon and Bisith while hammering demon bone into steel.
"You've given them the tools to save themselves," Ned Stark said, watching a common smith in Winterfell successfully forge a jagged, Infernium-veined blade.
"I gave them the truth," Philips replied, his eyes cold. "It's their hands that are building the future."
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[SYSTEM: KNOWLEDGE DIFFUSION COMPLETE]
[WORLD STATUS: THE ERA OF THE GREAT CRAFT]
[ALERT: BLACKSMITHS ACROSS THE SEVEN KINGDOMS ARE COMPETING TO FORGE THE FIRST 'FEROCIOUS CLEAVER OF THE ANCIENT DEMON'.]
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The victory at the Trident had saved the Riverlands, but it could not stop the rot spreading from the East. When news crossed the Narrow Sea, it arrived via the half-mad whispers of a few survivors who had reached Pentos.
The Dothraki Sea was gone. The vast, emerald ocean of grass had been consumed by a sprawling, twisted nightmare now known as the Dothraki Forest. These were not trees of wood and leaf, but sentient obsidian trunks with strangling, blood-drinking vines. The rifts had terraformed Essos, and the nomadic horselords—who had survived for millennia on speed and steel—had been completely devoured. Without Great Crafts, they were merely meat for the woods.
When the news hit Westeros, the opinion of the lords shifted from curiosity to a frantic, desperate necessity.
Doran Martell (Dorne): In the quiet of the Water Gardens, the Prince of Dorne sat in his rolling chair, watching blood oranges fall and splatter like the corpses of the Dothraki. While the Sand Snakes screamed for war, Doran remained patient, his eyes fixed on a Dagger of Nivlatth. "The Dothraki were the wind," he whispered to Areo Hotah. "But the wind cannot blow through a forest of glass. Our spears must not only be sharp; they must be Abyssal. If we do not master these Great Crafts, the sands of Dorne will be the next soil for those obsidian roots." He immediately sent word to the Shadow City to begin the secret harvest of any "Crawler" that emerged from the desert rifts.
Tywin Lannister (The Westerlands): Tywin sat in Casterly Rock, calculating the cost of extinction. "The horselords died because they relied on tradition," he noted coldly. "They had no Infernium, no Demon Teeth, and no knowledge of Simeon's craft. We will not share their fate." He ordered his smiths to abandon aesthetics entirely; if a blade could kill a demon, it did not matter if it was "botched."
Mace Tyrell (The Reach): Usually obsessed with the pageantry of knighthood, Mace was seen personally overseeing the smelting of Iron Ore and Silver. "Chivalry is for tournaments," he declared. "For the forest, we need Orc Lord Evisceration Cleavers. We will not let the Reach become a thicket of hell!"
The Mad King Aerys II (King's Landing): Aerys's reaction was the most volatile. He ordered the planting of "Wildfire Trees"—a mad attempt to mimic the demonic terraforming. "The Lancaster boy knew!" he shrieked. "He knew the trees would come! I need more bones for the Trophies of Death! If the Starks have a forest, I will have a graveyard!"
The fall of the Dothraki served as the ultimate proof of Philips's warning. The Great Crafts—once seen as "Northern Sorcery"—were now the only currency that mattered. Blacksmiths were now more important than generals, and a bag of Monster Fangs was worth more than a chest of gold dragons.
"They saw the horselords vanish like smoke," Philips said, watching the first batch of Hellfire Trebuchets being installed at Winterfell. "Now they finally understand. This isn't a war you win with bravery. It's a war you win with better alchemy."
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[SYSTEM: WORLDWIDE TENSION - CRITICAL]
[WORLD STATUS: ERA OF THE GREAT CRAFT]
[ALERT: THE OBSIDIAN FOREST IS SPREADING TOWARD THE COAST OF TYROSH.]