Crackclaw Point has its own legendary hero named Clarence Crabb.

The grandson of Conqueror Aegon, a Kingsguard during the reign of Jaehaerys I, named Clement Crabb.

During the War of the Usurper, when Crackclaw Point's various noble families fought alongside Prince Rhaegar in the Battle of the Trident, they proudly claimed to be exemplary vassals of House Targaryen.

After Robert Baratheon's victory in the war, the already sparsely populated House Crabb suffered heavy casualties, leaving only one male survivor, Gallan Crabb, who was still in his mother's womb at the time.

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In Whispers, a curved military fortress nestled against the mountains, Gallan Crabb, now a perfectly integrated transmigrant from another world, sat in the high-backed lord's chair, with a giant banner of marsh marigold behind him.

Standing to his left and right were a man and a woman. The man, about forty years old, balding and overweight, wore a blue round-collar robe. The woman, in her thirties, with brown long curly hair, wore a blue gown with a low neckline slit.

They were respectively Hershel, the steward, and Surlana, the chamberlain.

At that moment, an elderly farmer knelt respectfully in the center of the hall and cautiously said, "Yes, my lord, I confirm... during the day, when I'm out farming, my neighbor Marti always comes to my house and... engages in various... activities with my... wife, many times."

After listening to the farmer's fragmented account, Gallan Crabb's expression remained unchanged, only his lips pressed together slightly.

The hall fell silent.

Seeing his young lord's silence, Hershel, the steward, cleared his throat and said, "Old Pete, from what you're saying, you caught them in the act... Did you not... do anything?"

Old farmer Pete remained silent for a moment before replying, "I was angry, but I'm no longer young. Compared to me, Marti is younger and stronger, I can't... beat him."

"And your wife?"

"I can't... beat her either..."

Ah, women of Crackclaw Point, indeed quite fierce!

From today on, according to the customs here, the old farmer will probably soon have a resounding nickname, like Old Pete the Weak or something like that.

To become a qualified lord, it's imperative to protect the weak. Only when the weak are protected can a loyal soil be cultivated.

Gallan Crabb understood even more clearly that from a different perspective, everyone needs protection, including himself.

The voice of fifteen-year-old Lord Gallan Crabb still carried a hint of youthfulness. "Old Pete, your lord has listened to your account, I will arrange for two swordsmen to accompany you."

After saying that, Gallan Crabb's gray eyes turned to a middle-aged man standing on one side of the hall, tall and wearing armor. He continued, "Ser Phillips, you arrange for two agile soldiers, and if there are no problems, go directly to apprehend..."

Gallan Crabb tilted his head slightly and whispered, "Hershel, where do we need men now? Hmm... find a dangerous place."

Steward Hershel seemed to have already prepared an answer. "My lord, there's always a need for laborers capable of heavy work on the estate, but I suggest you give him a sword. The mountain wildlings are stirring again, and you need more warriors. You're merciful; you must give your subjects a chance."

Well, young and strong, fond of stealing women, full of energy, give him a sword and let him fight with the wildlings. If he's lucky enough to survive, it's all thanks to the benevolent lord's grace.

Be grateful, hold onto the sword in your hand, and continue next time.

Gallan Crabb nodded slightly and waved his right hand lightly.

Old farmer Pete, with red eyes, bowed deeply to his lord, straightening his back, feeling full of strength, secretly vowing repeatedly to do his farming duties well for his lord. With a good harvest, he could definitely deliver more wheat than last year.

The lord looks too thin; it must be because he wasn't eating enough. If I fix the farmland and increase the harvest, the lord can eat more and gain weight.

"Next."

"My lord, my farming tools are broken..."

"Lord, my son's been suffering from stomach pain for days, please..."

"Lord, my prey, the mountain wildlings took it..."

"Merciful lord, the mountain wildlings always lurk near our village, the villagers are very worried..."

"Yes, usually in groups of five or six."

...

The morning audience with the subjects' petitions was finally over. Gallan Crabb no longer needed to maintain a dignified posture, stretched lazily, and stood up from the tall wooden chair. Damn, this noble posture that needs to be maintained like a painting.

"Surlana, send a basin of hot water to the study, and lunch as well. Also, have Ars, prepare the ravens. Once I finish writing the letter, it should be sent immediately."

In the castle study, after finishing lunch and tidying up, Gallan Crabb picked up the quill.

Today was the third letter.

The recipient of the letter was the current queen, Cersei Lannister.

After the War of the Usurper, with House Crabb's main line reduced to only one male, thanks to Eddard Stark's intervention, Gallan Crabb's mother who was still pregnant was pardoned for her crimes, and House Crabb luckily retained its flame.

But after the War of the Usurper, under the rule of King Robert Baratheon, Duke Jon Arryn of the Red Keep did not forget to suppress House Crabb, once a model House of the Targaryens, through various means, year after year.

Next year, the curtain of "A Song of Ice and Fire" will be raised, and the game of thrones is about to begin.

Gallan Crabb has a lot to do.

To join this stage, as a noble of the realm, he must first mend relations with the Red Keep.

After more than a decade, Jon Arryn has finally grown old, his energy far diminished, and according to the storyline, his days are numbered.

House Crabb can finally breathe a little easier.

They cannot go with the flow, cannot be satisfied with the current status quo.

Once mocked as half-wild, House Crabb may not have understood or been capable in the past, but now Gallan Crabb—he has arrived.

Gallan Crabb stopped his thoughts, preparing to flatter.

To the queen with courage and beauty:

Out of admiration, I send you my sincerest regards.

War has been gone for fifteen years, and at that time, I was still in my mother's womb, quietly enjoying the warmth that could not be remembered.

Since I was sensible, I have always thanked the kingdom's mercy for allowing House Crabb to continue.

Because I dare not stay idle, and dare not forget, the motto of our house—United We Stand.

As the years have passed, my understanding has deepened, and the core of House Crabb's motto is loyalty.

The dragons have been gone for fifteen years, and while House Crabb still exists, it has lost its way... The former House Crabb, because of loyalty, knowing it was a dead end, still went without hesitation.

Because of past loyalty, in the new world, House Crabb has lost trust.

Without trust, House Crabb's loyalty has nowhere to be placed.

Noble as you are, would you be willing to grant House Crabb another chance?

I heard that you will soon be hunting with the Kingsguard. House Crabb hopes to bask in the glory of serving you.

The one who has been captivated by you—Gallan Crabb.

Gallan Crabb put down his pen.

The first step, either the Crazy Queen or the Mother of Dragons.