Tyrion looked up at Hallyne and said, "Hmm, that's good news."
Hallyne reassured him again, "Prime Minister, my brothers will never be careless…",
After a pause, he first chuckled, then said, "However, if you'll allow me to be frank…"
Tyrion's gaze shifted to the Wildfire jars, and he casually said, "Ah, please do."
Hallyne chuckled again and said, "Wildfire flows in our blood, it exists in the heart of every Pyromancer… We revere its power, but ordinary soldiers… often get hot-headed in battle, only wanting to go all out… However, any small mistake can lead to disaster… Here, I must emphasize it repeatedly. My father reminded King Aerys (the Mad King) many times, and my grandfather said the same to King Jaehaerys (the Mad King's father)."
Tyrion pinched his chin and said, "I imagine… this will be a welcome suggestion; no one wants to become a delicious roasted human."
"Hehehe…"
Ignoring Hallyne's lewd laughter, Tyrion picked up an empty jar from the corner and pondered, "Are the materials for making these round jars plentiful?"
Hallyne nodded and said, "Very plentiful, thank you for your concern, Prime Minister."
Tyrion grinned, "In that case, you wouldn't mind making a few thousand more, would you?"
Hallyne asked doubtfully, "A few thousand?"
Tyrion put the empty jar aside and said, "As long as it doesn't affect the production of the 'fruit,' give me as many of these empty jars as possible."
He clapped his hands and continued, "Remember to keep it a secret. I'll have Ser Jacelyn Bywater (the current Commander of the Gold Cloaks) find you."
"Yes, Prime Minister."
Hallyne nodded in agreement. After a pause, he asked doubtfully, "But… why…"
Tyrion smiled slightly at Hallyne, "It's really cold in here. Remind me to wear more next time… My wise man, I've seen enough. Would you mind escorting me out?"
"Hehehe, I'd be delighted, Prime Minister." Hallyne raised his oil lamp to lead the way.
As he walked, he said, "Prime Minister Tyrion, it's truly wonderful that you've come to visit in person. This is our… hehehe, immense honor. It's been a long time since a Hand of the King visited here. The last one was Lord Rossart, who himself was a member of our Guild… King Aerys was always very interested in the Alchemists Guild during his reign."
Rossart was the Grand Maester of the Alchemists Guild during Aerys II's reign. The burning of Duke Rickard Stark (Ned's father) was his doing. He was killed by Jaime Lannister when King's Landing fell.
… … … …
Tyrion grinned, "I'm sure King Joffrey will also be deeply concerned."
He added in his mind: Whenever Joffrey dealt with petitions in the Throne Room, he loved to have people fight to the death. He didn't want that brat to get any ideas about burning people alive.
So… I can't let them get close to my good nephew… Hmm, he doesn't have the courage to serve the Mad King II.
Hallyne fawned, "We sincerely hope that His Noble Majesty can also grace our Guild with his presence."
Tyrion shrugged, "I'll discuss that with my sister."
… … … …
… … … …
This trip to the Alchemists Guild left his legs aching, and he awkwardly mounted his horse with the help of his squire.
The morning light was warm, and the weary Tyrion's mood immediately lightened when he thought of the "surprise" he had prepared for Stannis.
He sang softly: On the haystack—the woman is kissed, oh… hey—no, yeah… hey—no, yeah…
Tyrion Lannister hadn't enjoyed his good mood for long before a Prime Minister's Tower official hurriedly brought him news of Stannis's "surprise."
Stannis had raided the Golden Rose's Bitterbridge Camp, and suddenly he had tens of thousands more infantrymen?!
Tyrion's voice was laced with complaint, "Great, I'm quite sure now that Stannis will never forgive the Lannister."
Bronn, standing nearby, grinned and said, "My Lord, I can't be sure about others, but you definitely won't escape."
Tyrion shrugged his small shoulders and said, "To be honest, I'm actually starting to like Stannis a bit. He's done something I've fantasized about many times."
After a moment of thought, Tyrion waved to the young official from the Westerlands and said, "Hey, tell my Queen Regent sister this good news in a bit."
His tone changed, and he said seriously, "This is important, and it needs to be fast!"
Hearing this, the young official nodded heavily and immediately galloped away.
Tyrion watched the official leave, grinning, "Brother and sister sharing joy, I truly am a good brother. I'm proud of myself on behalf of my sister."
After a moment of laughter, Tyrion said, "Let's go. It seems we need to speed up our operations."
… … … …
King's Landing, River Gate (Dung Gate).
Tyrion found Ser Jacelyn on the city wall. He was watching hundreds of new Gold Cloaks recruits drill in the square below.
Tyrion casually waved to the Commander of the Gold Cloaks, who was saluting him, and said, "How are they, my Ser?"
As he spoke, he looked down below.
Ser Jacelyn said, "They joined for a piece of bread and a straw bed, Prime Minister Tyrion."
King's Landing only had 6,000 Gold Cloaks, a number not even enough to defend the city walls. Tyrion had no choice but to expand the army as much as possible despite the food shortages.
Tyrion had no illusions about how much fighting power these newly recruited "refugees" would have once the war began.
But… at least for now, it could help him stabilize the morale of King's Landing.
… … … …
Tyrion withdrew his gaze from below and said, "Ser, I know time is tight, so I won't ask too much of you."
Ser Jacelyn turned to Tyrion. He hesitated for a moment, then said, "Prime Minister Tyrion, they are greener than spring grass, but no one wants to be seen as a coward. Therefore, once the fighting starts, when the horns blare and banners fly, they will fight bravely… But as soon as things look bad, they will immediately collapse and flee. One man throws down his spear, and a thousand will follow suit."
Tyrion's eyes flickered… Tywin Lannister… His amiable father often taught that guards were not soldiers, and the Gold Cloaks' job was precisely guarding.
Now, Tyrion hoped another of the Old Lion's maxims would prove true: High walls and strong stone can hold ten times their number.
… … … …
Seeing Tyrion's silence, Ser Jacelyn said again, "Prime Minister, I will fight to the last."
Tyrion immediately reined in his wandering thoughts. He reached out and patted Ser Jacelyn's strong thigh, saying, "Military merit is a good thing. I'll make you an Earl then."
Ser Jacelyn saluted solemnly, placing his hand on his chest.
Tyrion stretched, then paused and said, "I'm here for two things today. First, you must quickly transport some round ceramic jars from the Alchemists Guild. Then, use those round jars to train the soldiers who operate the ballistas. Fill the round jars with green dye, and train the soldiers in loading and firing. Anyone who spills the dye will be removed. Once the soldiers are familiar with the dye jars, switch to lamp oil. Tell them to light the oil jars first, then fire. Once they can handle them skillfully without harming themselves… they can use the Alchemists Guild's Wildfire in battle."
"Wildfire? That's a dangerous thing. Your training method is very clever."
Ser Jacelyn scratched his cheek with his iron hand, then continued, "However, I don't have a good feeling about the Alchemists' excrement."
Tyrion put his hands behind his back and said, "But this excrement can strengthen King's Landing's defenses, and perhaps bring you honor, my Ser."
"As you command, I will make the arrangements as you instructed, my Prime Minister."
Tyrion nodded with satisfaction and said, "Second thing… come with me."
Tyrion walked to the other side of the city wall and called Bronn, who was standing nearby, over.
The other side of the city wall faced the docks. Tyrion craned his neck to look at the buildings below the wall. They clung to the wall like barnacles on a ship's hull, including bait sheds, mess halls, warehouses, shops, taverns, and cheap brothels.
He pointed below and said, "See? With these things, I think Stannis won't even need to bother with scaling ladders."
Tyrion pulled his neck back and looked at Bronn, the Sellsword. Ser Jacelyn's personality wasn't suited for what was to come, but he could restrain the unruly Sellswords.
He said, "My captain of the guard, tomorrow, organize a hundred men and burn everything between the river and the city wall."
He waved his stubby fingers, "Nothing is allowed to stand within sight. My requirement is for it to be completely clear, understand?"
Bronn surveyed the buildings below for a moment and said, "My Lord, the people living there won't be too happy."
Tyrion said in a deep voice, "They're not happy now either. This will just give them new reasons to curse their Little Devil Prime Minister."
Bronn raised another question, "There will be resistance. They won't just obey."
Tyrion pointed to Ser Jacelyn, who was standing nearby, and said, "Ser Iron Hand will ensure they fail."
Bronn spread his hands and said, "My Lord, one last question: what do you plan to do with the residents here?"
Tyrion looked at the crowd below and said, "Give them enough time to move their belongings, then clear everyone out. My captain of the guard, try not to shed blood; they are not the enemy."
"As you command, my noble Lord."
After a few more instructions, Tyrion prepared to leave. He still had to summon the blacksmiths of King's Landing to the Prime Ministers Tower today.
At this moment, Ser Jacelyn suddenly said, "Prime Minister Tyrion, a dozen ship captains whose ships were requisitioned are protesting to me every day."
Tyrion stopped, puzzled, "Why would they come to you? Don't they know where the Prime Ministers Tower is?"
Bronn answered with a grin, "The King has ordered that if 'rabble' approach the Red Keep, they are to be shot on sight."
"Haha, my nephew King's way of gaining affection is quite unique."
Tyrion looked at Ser Jacelyn and continued, "I promised them compensation after the war, but it's clear they're not at ease."
Ser Jacelyn said directly, "Those captains are worried we will lose the war."
Tyrion grinned, "Then I can just hand over the compensation matter to their King Stannis."
… … … …
Tyrion returned to the Prime Ministers Tower without delay, first changing his clothes in his bedchamber: a black velvet outer robe, a deep red silk cape with gold trim, and the golden Hand of the King necklace.
After drinking a glass of fine wine, Tyrion, surrounded by officials and guards, moved towards the reception hall.
The door was pushed open, and the attendant announced, "Welcome, Lord Tyrion Lannister, Hand of the King!"
Everyone in the hall knelt. Tyrion walked slowly with his chin slightly raised. He… had to admit, he had long grown fond of this feeling; it was captivating.
Tyrion climbed onto the high seat beneath the golden round window, first motioned for them to rise, then said, "Gentlemen, I know you are busy, so I won't waste much time."
He gestured to his squire, "Pod, if you please."
Podrick nodded. He unfastened the strap and emptied the contents of the canvas bag, the metal making a muffled clinking sound as it fell onto the blanket.
Tyrion glanced at the blacksmiths and said, "These were forged by the blacksmiths of the Red Keep at my command. I need a thousand more of similar items."
As he finished speaking, a blacksmith bent down to carefully examine three thick, twisted steel chains, saying, "Very rigid chains."
Tyrion spread his hands and said, "Rigid they are, but unfortunately short like me. The finished product I need is much longer than this."
He looked at the first blacksmith who had spoken and asked, "What's your name?"
The blacksmith was dressed in ordinary wool and leather. He was short but very stout, with arms as thick as a bull's neck.
The blacksmith replied, "Noble Hand of the King, everyone calls me Ironbelly."
Tyrion nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping over everyone, and said, "I want every smithy in King's Landing to begin forging these chains, and then link them together. Put all other work aside. I want everyone who knows how to forge, whether they are masters or apprentices, to dedicate themselves to this. When I ride through Steel Street, I want to hear hammers striking day and night."
"I also need someone, a capable person, to oversee this matter…"
Tyrion looked at Ironbelly the blacksmith again and continued, "Ironbelly, do you think you are such a person?"
"My Lord, even if I were willing…"
After a pause, Ironbelly continued, "But what about the armor and swords the Queen Regent wants?"
Another blacksmith also spoke up, "The Queen Regent ordered us to speed up the production of armor, swords, and axes, a vast quantity, supposedly for the new Gold Cloaks recruits, my Lord."
Yet another blacksmith stepped forward, nervously saying, "My Lord, please forgive me, the Queen Regent's order is that anyone who fails to complete the work on time will have their hands smashed."
Tyrion wanted to rub his forehead. Cersei's way of gaining affection was also quite unique; she and Joffrey truly were mother and son.
Tyrion said solemnly, "First, make the chains. What you fear will not happen. I assure you, this is the Hand of the King's promise, witnessed by the gods."
… … … …
… … … …
Riverlands, Longtable Hall.
Greene Kleber placed his hand on his chest and said, "I am truly delighted to see you safe and sound, Margaery…"
As he spoke, Greene blinked, seeming to be troubled by the proper address for her.
Margaery Tyrell flexed her fingers, her face blooming into a smile, "Count Greene, I prefer you to call me Miss Margaery."
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