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At the same salt-producing seashore, Gavin's gaze was fixed intently on the panel data before him. Energy points naturally accrued at a rate of roughly one per year. Over the years, he had rarely used them to enhance his bloodline.
However, as he grew older, though his bloodline awakening continued to progress, Gavin could distinctly sense its pace slowing down. It seemed that in a few more years, further growth would rely entirely on these energy points.
The majority of his energy points had been spent on refining his martial skills. His swordsmanship had now reached the level of a master, and through years of relentless training combined with the growth of his bloodline, his physical constitution had seen remarkable improvements.
Looking at the energy points reserved on his panel, Gavin began to carefully plan his future course.
His journey to the Citadel carried clear and well-defined objectives. First, there was the Citadel's vast collection of magical books.
Though he possessed innate magical power, he had struggled to turn it into tangible strength. Perhaps the knowledge within those books could provide him with the answers he sought.
Another goal was centered around Maester Qyburn, a figure destined to be expelled from the Citadel in the future.
The inspiration for this idea came from the dominion function on his panel, which had intrigued Gavin for some time and seemed to hold untapped potential.
Two years ago, Gavin's family had participated in the campaign to suppress the rebellion on the Iron Islands. Ser Edmund had taken the majority of the territory's soldiers with him, leaving Instructor Ryan to train the remaining young men and form them into a small unit.
Along with some militia, this unit was tasked with patrolling the territory. Gavin, being the strongest among them, was appointed as one of the unit's captains.
At the time, he was brimming with confidence and anticipation, eager to test the dominion function on his panel.
He had planned to use the dominion feature to enhance the abilities of his subordinates. Yet, the outcome left him bitterly disappointed.
The dominion feature merely displayed the names of those under his command, accompanied by a cold prompt: (This unit does not belong to you).
No matter what he tried, the dominion function remained dormant, like a slumbering giant, utterly unresponsive. This plunged Gavin into deep contemplation and doubt.
Analyzing various possibilities, he eventually speculated that the issue lay in his subordinates' inability to truly swear loyalty to him. Alternatively, perhaps the individuals to be dominated also needed to possess magical abilities for the panel to recognize them.
However, these theories were currently impossible to verify. Given his current status, obtaining a noble title or becoming a knight within a short time was an unattainable dream.
Under such circumstances, expecting these soldiers to pledge unwavering loyalty to him—and thus testing the dominion function—was even further out of reach.
After much pondering, Gavin decided to shift his perspective. If the living could not swear allegiance to him, what about the dead? This audacious and almost reckless thought began to take root in his mind.
He recalled how, in the chronicles, Maester Qyburn had revived the Mountain, turning him into a terrifying entity devoid of self-awareness, one that existed solely to obey orders.
Although the Mountain later seemed to regain some semblance of self—or perhaps a lingering obsession—this event undoubtedly offered Gavin a potential solution to his dilemma.
Gavin mulled over this possibility again and again, growing increasingly convinced that it might be the key to breaking out of his current predicament.
If he could master the ability to resurrect the dead and bring fallen warriors back under his control, he would no longer need to worry about the loyalty of his soldiers.
These resurrected warriors would obey his orders without question, becoming his most faithful and formidable force.
The idea filled Gavin with both excitement and a tinge of fear. After all, it was a method that defied both logic and morality. Yet, faced with his present challenges, Gavin felt he had little room for hesitation. Clenching his teeth, he resolved in his heart to find a way to obtain Qyburn's knowledge.
With this determination, Gavin joined a merchant caravan and began his journey to Oldtown. Along the way, the beautiful scenery of the Reach unfolded before him like a vibrant and colorful painting.
As far as the eye could see, vast fields stretched endlessly like a green ocean, swaying gently under the caress of the breeze. The crops in the fields were lush and thriving, a testament to the fertility and abundance of the land.
Five days later, in the early evening, Gavin finally arrived at the Oldtown. Towering into the clouds and piercing the sky, the massive Hightower came into his view, standing over a hundred meters tall.
To Gavin's mind, shaped by memories of his previous life, such a height might not seem extraordinary. But in this medieval world, it was an unparalleled marvel.
Legends claimed that the Hightower's construction had been aided by magic, and now, seeing it with his own eyes, Gavin felt those stories were not without merit.
As he stared at the tower's surface, adorned with mysterious and majestic patterns, Gavin's thoughts began to drift uncontrollably.
A bold and almost reckless idea suddenly struck him: if the Hightower truly owed its construction to magical forces, might it also harbor some form of mystical power? And if he could touch its walls, might he have a chance to gain precious energy points?
The thought took root in his mind, spreading like wildfire.
However, just moments later, Gavin let out a self-deprecating laugh. He knew all too well that with his current status and position, approaching the Hightower within the Hightower family's castle was nothing more than a fool's dream.
Yet, while it seemed impossible now, that didn't mean it would always be out of reach. Sooner or later, he told himself, he would find a way to drain every last bit of its power. With that, Gavin's gaze toward the Hightower, brimmed with anticipation.
Shaking off these thoughts, Gavin quickly regained his composure. Leading his horse, he wandered through Oldtown's streets, searching for a place to rest. Before long, he came across an inn that looked reasonably comfortable.
Entering the inn, Gavin found a quiet corner to sit down. Exhaustion weighed heavily on him after the long journey. He waved to the attendant and, with a slightly hoarse voice, said, "A clean room, please. And bring me some food and water."
The attendant responded promptly and quickly arranged everything for Gavin. When the food was served, Gavin handed the attendant a few copper stars. As he devoured his meal hungrily, he began asking questions about the Citadel, trying to gather as much information as he could.
The next morning, Gavin rose early. After finishing the breakfast brought to his room by the attendant, he took the recommendation letter from Sir Edmund and set off to enroll at the Citadel.
On his way there, he noticed many people casting curious glances in his direction. After all, in Westeros, silver hair and violet eyes were unmistakable hallmarks of House Targaryen, the former rulers of the Iron Throne.
The maester overseeing Gavin's registration also seemed somewhat surprised by his appearance, going so far as to inquire about his lineage.
Considering the current hostile attitude of the Iron Throne toward anyone of Targaryen descent, even a neutral institution like the Citadel was wary of inviting unnecessary trouble.
However, after reading the recommendation letter written by a noble, the maester finally set his concerns aside. The letter provided a detailed account of Gavin's identity and confirmed his legitimacy.
Leading Gavin toward the administrative office, the maester explained as they walked, "The annual tuition fee is ten gold dragons. You are free to choose any subject that interests you for your studies. However, in your first year, you may only select one field."
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