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The fires of war seemed to have truly dissipated, and the port at the River Gate had returned to its usual bustling state.
Merchants, with their keen senses, quickly brought in large quantities of goods and commodities, and the prices in King's Landing stabilized once more.
However, prices remained quite high, and Jon had no spare money.
Consequently, the several thousand prisoners held in Rhaenys's Hill, or the Dragonpit, were given only one meal a day to keep them alive.
Near the old city gate to the north, close to Rhaenys's Hill, a long line of people was ready.
Jon was about to see off Harken and the warriors from the Mountain Clan Tribes.
"Don't worry, my Lord, with these armors and weapons, let alone tribes like the Black Ears, we can even take the Eyrie!"
Having truly witnessed grand spectacles, Harken's confidence was now greatly inflated.
"Alright, I'm sending Ser Rorik with you all.
You must listen to his advice; what I want is not greater victories but fewer casualties.
Go back and prepare well, and once my fief is decided, I will send people to pick you up, and you will never have to live in the mountains again," Jon instructed.
Rorik was a knight of House Darry, in the prime of his life, and a man of steady temperament; his presence would prevent many accidents.
"Yes!" Harken nodded vigorously, feeling much more energetic since coming down from the mountains.
After witnessing the prosperity of King's Landing, who would want to return to living in a mountain valley?
Soon, over seventeen hundred warriors from the Mountain Clan Tribes marched north, singing the military songs Jon had taught them, heading towards the Vale.
Jon had, after all, promised the various Mountain Clan Tribes that he would bring them out once he Acquired territory, so they wouldn't have to eke out a living in the impoverished mountains.
But they would also become the biggest flaw in Jon's 'persona.' What if someone like Sora let slip a secret? Wouldn't that ruin everything?
So, Jon arranged for them to leave first.
If the timing was right, it should be that after Jon's fief was decided, Harken and his men would have just conquered the Mountain Clans, and then they would all relocate together.
Watching the army depart, Jon turned to Harrion.
House Karstark was still loyal to the King in the North, and Jon's proclamation to the Seven Kingdoms had already been sent to Dragonstone.
This meant Stannis could arrive at any moment, and to avoid awkwardness or even conflict, Harrion also indicated that he needed to leave as soon as possible.
"Jon, I plan to leave with my Family's army the day after tomorrow.
Are you really not going back?"
"The Wall? I will return after I hand King's Landing over to His Majesty Stannis."
"Are you really going back to the Wall?" Harrion couldn't understand why Jon was putting himself through this.
And ever since he talked to Sandor the Hound, Jon had been saying he was going back to the Wall.
This persona had to be maintained, not just as a pretense in front of Stannis.
"I have avenged Lord Eddard; there's nothing left for me to linger for in the South, so of course, I'm going back," Jon said with a faint smile.
Harrion had wanted to say that Jon had achieved such great merits that it wasn't necessary, but after thinking about it, he decided against it, as he had already said it countless times before.
"How about this, Jon? I'll take all the troops from Dreadfort, but I'll leave all the troops from Karhold with you for now.
I'll also take some of the troops from Earl Serwyn and White Harbor, because you're alone in King's Landing—"
"Alright, thank you, Harrion."
"Don't say that, Jon, you saved all of us.
I saw with my own eyes how vast the army of The Reach was.
I can't even imagine what would have happened if we had stayed in Harrenhal; by now, the armies of Tyrell and Lannister would probably be marching towards us, and how would we have dealt with that?" Harrion said sincerely.
"Jon, if you're really going back to the Wall, why not leave a seed—"
Jon ignored him and returned to King's Landing with his retinue, including Martin, heading back to the Great Sept of Baelor.
The Great Sept of Baelor was located on Visenya's Hill, surrounded by a large white marble plaza.
In the center of the plaza stood a statue of Baelor Targaryen, who looked more like a Cultivator than a king.
Speaking of which, this guy was also quite abstract; he publicly claimed that to prevent himself from indulging in carnal desires, he locked his three sisters in the Maidenvault.
Around the statue were military tents Jon had ordered to be set up, and he personally handled some temporary governmental affairs.
These days, Jon was here keeping vigil for Eddard, and at the same time, the entire center of power in King's Landing had temporarily shifted from the Red Keep to the Great Sept.
Around the Great Sept were Jon's most trusted Winterfell Soldiers and veteran Mountain Clansmen.
"My Lord." It was Old York who spoke; he felt guilty every time he saw Jon because he had failed to keep an eye on Arya.
"Let's put the matter of Arya aside for now.
The grain I promised the Mountain Clans is being prepared, and you will be in charge of escorting it, Old York; you are one of the people I trust most."
"Don't worry, my Lord, this time, even if I die on the road, I will deliver their grain!" Seeing Jon not only not blame him but also encourage him, Old York felt even more ashamed.
Continuing inward, through the corridor adorned with stained glass orbs, they arrived at the holy hall of the Sept.
The hall was lit by hundreds of candles, which encircled the central altar.
On the altar lay Eddard Stark's ashes and the clothes he wore in life.
It wasn't until he completely controlled King's Landing that Jon understood why Tyrion hadn't returned Eddard's remains as he originally did; it was entirely because Jon had fought too fiercely in the Riverlands.
The Lannisters had lost the composure they had in the original timeline.
Upon entering the holy hall, a figure like a wildcat flashed past, quickly kneeling beside Sansa, who was dressed in plain clothes.
It was Arya.
Seeing Jon enter, she said nothing, just knelt with her head down on the cushion.
Just two days ago, Arya and Old York arrived in King's Landing one after another.
Arya, who had originally intended to surprise Jon, was publicly scolded by him.
She hadn't spoken to Jon for two days.
No words, no words; Jon didn't mind.
The biggest problem now was Sansa.
Killing Joffrey hadn't cheered her up; her appetite remained poor, and she even had no desire for her beloved lemon cakes.
"Jon," Sansa said, her voice a little hoarse, seeing Jon arrive.
"When are we going home?"
Upon hearing 'home,' Arya also quietly turned her head.
Jon looked at Sansa.
Earlier, Eddard had planned a coup to control Cersei, and before that, he intended to secretly send his two daughters away.
But at that time, Sansa completely misunderstood her situation and was still determined to stay in the court and marry Joffrey.
After suffering both mental and physical torment, she finally realized that home was the best and warmest place.
"In a couple of days, Ser Harrion will leave with his army.
You and Arya can go with him then, and head to Riverrun first; Lady Catelyn and Arya should both be there," Jon said, stroking her head and tidying her somewhat disheveled hair.
Arya, seeing this, couldn't help but feel jealous; Jon used to only ruffle her hair.
"What about you?" Sansa asked.
Jon was the one who dispelled the darkness for her when she felt most insecure and afraid, so a very deep attachment had formed in her mind within just a few days.
Leaving Jon always made her feel very unsettled.
"Me? I have to hand King's Landing over to His Majesty Stannis completely intact."
"Then I'll wait for you; we'll go home together."
"No problem." Jon smiled and withdrew his hand, only to find a few strands of reddish-brown hair clinging to it, which he then showed to Sansa: "Look at you, not eating properly lately, starting to lose hair, aren't you? Be careful, or you'll end up bald like Thoros!"
Upon hearing that her beloved hair might fall out, Sansa immediately said she was a little hungry, and Jon ordered food to be prepared.
"Jon, I'm losing some hair too." Finally, Arya could no longer suppress her jealousy and spoke to Jon.
"Alright, I learned how to steam bread on the Wall; I'll make it for you then." The siblings cast their unpleasantries aside, and everything returned to normal.
Just then, Mond hurried in from outside and said, "My Lord, a person suspected to be a dwarf appeared from Flea Bottom and then left on a ship from the Free Cities."
Jon knew that the only one in all of King's Landing capable of such a feat was Varys.
But he also knew that this time was different from when Tyrion had 'fed' Tywin to the lions in the original timeline; the Westerlands were still in Lannister hands, and he still had a retreat.
However, with King's Landing now under his control, Tyrion wouldn't be able to reach the Westerlands without an escort.
Going to the Free Cities now was just to avoid trouble.
Perhaps only when he conquered the Westerlands would Tyrion wholeheartedly follow Young Aegon to find Dragon Mom.
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