Chapter 83

I stand before the massive palace, a satisfied smile on my face. It is nearly complete. Only a few finishing touches remain, and then it will be done. But that doesn't mean our work is over. The capital city itself is still under construction, and there is much to be done.

The palace walls have been finished, standing tall and imposing, but the city's outer walls are still under construction. Before moving on to city planning, I must finish the sewage system. The engineers have already designed it and begun the first stage of construction. If everything goes according to plan, it should be completed in a few months.

For now, our focus remains on the palace. Once it is finished, we can finally start accepting settlers into the new capital. Even then, it will be the people from Lunaria City first before accepting outsiders.

"How are the workers doing, Melisandre?"

"They're doing well, my lord. We are getting reinforcement from Lunaria, and not only that, but we've seen a large influx of laborers from Westeros after the break you gave them."

When I announced that we needed time to gather more materials, I gave the workers some time off. Many returned to Westeros and spread the word about the work here in Solaris. Their stories must have been compelling, because soon after, even more people started making their way here.

The influx of workers grew to the point that the Stag King himself intervened, forbidding anyone—even beggars—from leaving King's Landing for Solaris. In response, I instructed Captain Harlan to send people to King's Landing. Their mission was simple: act as smugglers and help those who wished to leave.

Despite the increased presence of royal guards, our operation continues. We now have over seven hundred people from King's Landing alone, with even more arriving from other parts of Westeros.

That might sound like a lot, but in reality, it isn't.

The Solaris Kingdom is vast, but its population is small. We could never hope to match Westeros in sheer numbers. If war were to break out, they could throw thousands of soldiers into battle without hesitation. On the other hand, we would need to preserve every trained fighter.

Defensively, we could hold our own. But in an all-out war, we would be at a disadvantage.

That's why stealing their common folk benefits us in the long run. More people means more workers, more soldiers, and—most importantly—more loyal subjects. And they won't just be useful for war. I have plans for Solaris that require manpower, far beyond simple construction projects.

"Perfect," I say. "Make sure they get a good meal. Speaking of meals, how is the kitchen running?"

One of the biggest incentives for people to work for me is the guarantee of food. As long as they work, they will be fed—something that is far from normal in this world. Unlike modern times, where wages sometimes include food expenses, this is a medieval world where workers are often paid in food instead of money.

I do both.

They receive meals and a weekly wage. It isn't much, but it's enough to sustain them for a month if they manage their money wisely. The result? People flock to Solaris for the chance at steady work and food security. Some even bring their entire families to work for me.

One such family stands out. The mother and daughter work in the kitchens, preparing meals for the workers. The father and son help construct the walls, contributing to the city's defenses.

"They're handling things well, my lord," Melisandre reports. "They work hard to ensure the meals are well-prepared. We caught someone stealing, but they've been punished accordingly. Other than that, everything is running smoothly."

Because of the benefits of working with us, I have created strict rules—any violation results in severe punishment. Unfortunately for them, it isn't me who enforces them—that falls to Melisandre.

She does not go easy on rule-breakers.

Stealing earns an eighty percent salary reduction and public whipping. Most offenders are newcomers, assuming we won't actually enforce the laws. However, after experiencing Melisandre's punishments, they quickly fall in line—often working even harder than before.

"That's good. How are the farmers doing?"

"They're working hard, my lord. The Underground Farm is thriving and will soon increase food production."

Beneath the palace, hidden from sight, lies the Underground Farm. It utilizes soil and seeds from the Minecraft World, making it far superior to any farm in this world. Only the most loyal members of the Lunaria City are permitted to work there.

Secrecy is paramount.

We cannot risk outsiders learning about the farm's true nature. If word got out, it could lead to disastrous consequences.

"What about the farm outside?"

To maintain appearances, we also built a decoy farm outside the city walls. This farm operates using regular soil but is enhanced with a diluted version of Bone Meal from the Minecraft World to increase crop yield. Unlike the underground farm, it does not grow food at unnatural speeds, ensuring that no one grows suspicious.

"We need more workers, but things are progressing well," Melisandre replies. "Merchants have also started arriving in the city. Most come from Braavos and Pentos, though a few from Qohor have begun making inquiries."

"Qohor? Why them? Wouldn't they have more opportunities in Myr?"

"They're curious, my lord. News of Solaris's palace reaching completion has spread far and wide. They came to see if the rumors are true."

I nod. That's to be expected.

"Speaking of Myr, how are things there? And what about Tyrosh?"

The last time I visited Myr, repairs were progressing well. The city walls had been rebuilt, and new farms were being established. Tyrosh was undergoing a similar transformation, though my plans for it were more… ambitious.

I let a trusted lord rule over Myr and had no long-term projects there. That is why I don't pay too much attention to Myr. Tyrosh, however, was different.

I had a vision for Tyrosh—one that no one had ever dared to attempt in this world.

An underwater city.

As a Minecraft player, I knew it could be done in the real world. And I intended to prove it.

"Myr is nearly fully repaired," Melisandre reports. "Tyrosh is about sixty percent complete."

"That's slower than I expected."

"The port repairs are taking time, my lord. Without your abilities, they must work carefully to avoid further damage. Additionally, the port is being expanded, which adds to the delay."

"And it would be faster if you just let me do it myself."

"No," she says flatly. "You're already breaking every noble tradition by working on construction here. We will not let our king personally rebuild the port."

I sigh. She has a point.

But damn, watching these people struggle with basic construction techniques is frustrating. It's like watching a newbie in Minecraft build their first house—slow and inefficient.

"If you say so," I mutter. "Anything else I should know?"

Melisandre pauses, then nods.

"There's news from Braavos, my lord. It is reports from beyond the Wall."

I raise an eyebrow.

"Beyond the Wall?"

"Yes. Ferrego Antaryon sent a letter. He writes that Wildlings are migrating south."

I frown, my mind already shifting gears.

"Tell me more."