Galladon did not let the excitement of receiving Thundersmoke and the new armor disrupt his routine.
Today's training still had to be completed.
Missing a single day might not seem significant, but once discipline loosened, it became easier to relax again—and again—until persistence faded.
For six years, unless forced by major events, he had completed his daily training regardless of weather.
It was a habit from his previous life.
Plan ahead. Set clear goals. Persist.
That discipline had once helped him enter a key university despite hardship.
Now, in this world, he maintained the same mindset.
After finishing his training, Galladon wiped away sweat and fed grass to Thundersmoke. Once rested, he rode to the shores of Sapphire Bay and galloped freely along the beach.
The sand provided natural cushioning, the sea breeze was refreshing, and the vast horizon cleared the mind.
When Thundersmoke ran at full speed, Galladon finally understood the name.
Fast as thunder.
Powerful hooves striking like rolling storms.
And the smoky-gray mane streaming behind like drifting mist.
Satisfied, he later returned and even took Brienne for a short ride.
Over the next two days, aside from training, he focused on building rapport with his mount.
Unfortunately, Thundersmoke did not appear in the "Legendary Pet" section of his system panel.
That meant the horse had not reached legendary quality.
Galladon felt some regret.
If it qualified, he could invest points to enhance it further.
He wondered whether direwolves might count as legendary pets.
Dragons certainly would—but direwolves?
In the original story, Robb Stark's direwolf had proven devastating in battle, frightening enemy horses and excelling in night attacks.
If they qualified, strengthening one through the system would be extremely valuable.
The Brewery Experiment
On the fifth day, Galladon brought Lord Selwyn to a small tower within Evenfall Castle.
The tower had once stored miscellaneous items but was recently cleared to house Old Bayver's brewery.
"Are you certain this will work?" Selwyn asked skeptically.
From what he understood, Galladon had merely modified beer by adding snakevine flowers.
At best, it would produce slightly altered ale—not something commercially remarkable.
Galladon simply smiled.
Old Bayver rolled out a wooden barrel that had been fermenting in the shade.
Unlike before, Bayver's expression now carried anticipation rather than doubt.
For days he had smelled something unusual through the air holes—less sweetness, fewer off-flavors, a stronger malt aroma layered with floral and vegetal notes, and a faint bitterness.
As an experienced brewer, his instincts told him the result would be special.
Galladon leaned forward and inhaled deeply.
Rich malt aroma filled his senses.
Stronger than most modern beers he had known.
That was expected—this brew was made with a malt-to-water ratio of 1:3, fully handcrafted.
He smiled.
Fermentation had succeeded.
Ideally, it should ferment another week for refinement, but he was leaving for Harrenhal tomorrow.
It was time to open it.
Galladon pried open the lid.
A fragrant wave of ale spread through the room.
Lord Selwyn and Claude exchanged surprised glances.
The aroma was clean—no sourness or unpleasant notes.
Inside the barrel rested clear, light golden ale, faint foam along the edges and sediment settled below.
Bayver handed Galladon a ladle.
Galladon tasted it.
Joy flashed across his face.
The flavor was rich—far superior to the fresh beers of his previous life.
Strong malt backbone.
Floral and vegetal complexity.
Only the carbonation was weaker—but that was acceptable.
This was not merely beer.
This was refined ale.
Bayver watched anxiously, hands rubbing together.
Selwyn took the ladle next.
He sipped.
His eyes widened.
Malt, wine-like depth, subtle plant and floral notes bloomed across his tongue.
He swallowed slowly.
Sweet aftertaste lingered, warmth rising from his stomach.
This was unquestionably fine wine.
Was this truly ale?
In his memory, ale had always been sour, turbid, cheap.
This had none of those flaws.
The snakevine flowers seemed to mask imperfections and elevate the malt.
Even the light foam enhanced its richness.
Selwyn glanced at Galladon.
His heartbeat quickened.
He suddenly understood why his son had insisted on bringing him here.
This was not just ale.
It was an opportunity.
A profitable one.
(End of Chapter 23)
A/N:
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