Chapter 3: Laying the Foundation
The riverbank was quiet except for the gentle lapping of water against the shore. Ivar stood at the edge, his boots sinking slightly into the damp earth. He stared out at the now-cleared section of the river, watching the current flow steadily for the first time in years. It was a small victory, but one that carried enormous potential.
Behind him, the villagers bustled about, their tired faces softened by quiet satisfaction. Even those who had grumbled earlier seemed to take pride in the progress they'd made.
"It's a good start," Timothy said, stepping up beside him. His voice was steady, calm, as always, but there was a hint of approval in his tone. "But we need more than a clean river if we're going to turn this place into what you've envisioned."
Ivar nodded. "The river is just the first step. Tomorrow, we start digging irrigation channels. Once the fields are properly watered, we'll replant the crops." He paused, his mind turning. "But we can't stop there. This island needs more than food—it needs purpose."
Timothy raised an eyebrow. "Purpose?"
Ivar turned to face him, his expression sharp. "If these people feel like they're only surviving, they'll resist change. But if they see this as the beginning of something greater, they'll follow me willingly. They need to believe that this island can be more than a forgotten corner of the Riverlands."
"And how do you plan to give them that belief?"
Ivar's lips curled into a thin smile. "We'll build. Not just farms, but roads, workshops, and trade routes. We'll turn this place into a hub of commerce and innovation. And when the rest of Westeros sees what we've done, they'll come to us, not the other way around."
Resistance
The following morning, the villagers gathered again at the riverbank, ready to begin digging the irrigation channels. Ivar stood before them, Timothy at his side. He could see the weariness in their eyes, the hesitation in their movements.
One man stepped forward, his arms crossed. He was broad-shouldered and sunburned, with the rough hands of a farmer. "My lord," he said, his tone cautious but firm, "we've done what you asked. The river flows again. But if we spend all our time digging ditches, who will tend the fields? Who will feed the village?"
A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd.
Ivar stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over the gathered villagers. "I understand your concerns," he said, his voice steady and measured. "You've lived your lives in survival mode—always thinking about the next meal, the next winter. But what if I told you that survival isn't enough? That we can do more than just scrape by?"
The villagers exchanged uncertain glances.
"I won't lie to you," Ivar continued. "The work I'm asking for will be hard. But it will also be worth it. Once the irrigation channels are dug, your fields will yield twice as much as they do now. Your children won't go hungry. And this village will grow into something you can be proud of."
The man who had spoken earlier frowned. "And if it doesn't work?"
"It will," Ivar said, his tone cold and certain. "Because I won't let it fail."
For a moment, there was silence. Then, slowly, the man nodded. "All right, my lord. We'll do it your way."
The Cheat System's Role
The villagers weren't the only ones working that day. As the men and women toiled with shovels and hoes, Ivar retreated to the edge of the worksite, where Timothy waited with a quiet smirk.
"You have a way with words," Timothy said.
"It's not just words," Ivar replied. "It's strategy. If they think they're part of something bigger, they'll work twice as hard."
Timothy chuckled. "Still, it doesn't hurt to have a little extra help, does it?"
Ivar opened his hand, summoning the cheat system's interface. The translucent blue menu appeared before him, shimmering in the morning light.
[Daily Points: 10. Use them wisely.]
He selected the Facilities category and scrolled through the options. Many of them were beyond his current budget—things like advanced workshops or fortified keeps. But one caught his eye: Basic Irrigation Plan – 10 Points.
He selected it. The menu flickered, and suddenly, detailed instructions filled his mind. Diagrams, measurements, and techniques for digging efficient irrigation channels played out in his head as though he'd known them all his life.
"It's done," Ivar said, closing the interface. "Let's get to work."
Results and Gratitude
Over the next week, the villagers worked tirelessly to dig the channels, guided by the knowledge Ivar had purchased. He was in the trenches with them every day, showing them where to dig, how to angle the channels, and how to use the river's natural flow to their advantage.
By the end of the week, the fields were crisscrossed with narrow waterways, each one directing fresh river water to the parched soil. When the villagers saw the first trickle of water flow through the channels, they cheered.
The man who had initially questioned Ivar's plan approached him that evening. "My lord," he said, his voice quieter now, "I wasn't sure this would work. But you've proven me wrong. I'll follow you, and so will the others."
Ivar placed a hand on the man's shoulder. "Good. Because this is only the beginning."
The Council Forms
That night, Ivar met with Timothy and the rest of his enhanced soldiers in the manor's great hall. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls.
"We've made progress," Ivar said, addressing the group. "But progress without leadership is chaos. We need structure—order."
Timothy nodded. "What do you have in mind?"
"A council," Ivar replied. "Each of you will have a role to play, overseeing different aspects of our growth. Timothy, you'll act as my second-in-command. Roland, you'll oversee military training. Lysa, you'll handle intelligence and espionage."
He went down the line, assigning responsibilities to each of the ten soldiers. By the time he had finished, they were no longer just warriors—they were the foundation of his administration.
"Together," Ivar said, "we'll turn this island into a force Westeros cannot ignore."