As for the explanation Kal gave about the origin of his sigil, Tyrion and the others found nothing wrong with it.
It sounded reasonable and well-founded—and indeed convincing.
Although the design of Kal's sigil looked somewhat strange, weren't all the noble house sigils throughout the Seven Kingdoms created in just such a way?
Moreover, for Kal's House El, this design not only avoided the awkward issue of his being a bastard, but also subtly emphasized the origin of House El's bloodline.
Tyrion looked at it for a long while and found nothing wrong with it—on the contrary, he thought it was quite good.
Aside from seeming somewhat out of place compared with the sigils of the great houses of the Seven Kingdoms, the design as a whole, whether in artistry or composition, felt harmonious.
He then nodded and continued asking, "And what colors will you use?"
Kal thought for a moment, rubbed his chin, and said, "Still red. A red pattern on a black background, but along the edges of the gemstone and the river, there should be golden trim."
"So, black, red, and gold, is that it?"
Tyrion understood what he meant, then lowered his head, imagining those three colors painted together.
But right after, he noticed something wrong.
"Wait, no—that's not right. Gold aside, since both House Baratheon and House Lannister use gold in their sigils, and given your bloodline and current lands, adopting that color isn't a problem."
"But why are you so fixated on black and red?"
"Aren't you worried King Robert might take issue with that?"
As he spoke, Tyrion lifted his head and gave Kal a deep look.
Tyrion's words were blunt and not exactly pleasant to hear, even somewhat tactless.
But Kal could tell he was offering a reminder.
Kal merely smiled indifferently and said, "Don't forget, I do have a nickname—'Bloodwind' Kal. Red represents the source of my glory."
Kal didn't bother explaining the black; after all, it was just a pretext—any two reasons that could pass muster would do.
Of course, Kal would never admit in front of others that his choice of black and red was actually a deliberate attempt to draw a faint connection to the Targaryens.
After all, as a man whose talent list included [Unburnt] and [Dreamwalker], he didn't believe for a second that there wasn't Targaryen blood running through his veins.
Aside from lacking silver hair and violet eyes, the traits of that dragon bloodline were practically written all over him.
"Well, your hair is black, and the crowned stag of House Baratheon is also black. Using black shouldn't be an issue."
Though Kal said nothing more, the ever-thoughtful Tyrion immediately offered him an excuse.
After roughly sorting through Kal's thoughts, Tyrion then publicly gave a detailed explanation of the sigil Kal had drawn for House El.
"So the gemstone and the river represent your bloodline, your family's origin, and your achievements."
"And these three colors—black, red, and gold—also symbolize all of that. I must say, Kal El, your artistic sense is quite remarkable, and this sigil is truly unique—very beautiful."
Rubbing his chin, Tyrion seemed pleased with his own clever interpretation and with Kal's aesthetic taste.
Kal, who hadn't thought that deeply about it at first, suddenly realized upon hearing Tyrion's explanation that it all indeed made perfect sense.
Black represented his bloodline, which could refer to either the stag family or the dragon family.
Red represented his achievements, proving that House El had been built entirely upon his own real battle merits—fists and feet earned through war.
As for gold, it could represent Kal's domain—the Westerlands and Casterly Rock.
In any case, no matter how one looked at it, the emblem Kal had drawn—originally meant to represent Superman—at this moment fit him perfectly.
Satisfied, Kal nodded and, after exchanging a glance with Tyrion, pushed the sheet he had drawn toward Tobho Mott.
"Forge my armor and weapons according to the specifications I just mentioned. As for the sigil, besides the cloak, also make several identical badges and banners for me."
"For the badges, use three kinds of metal—nickel-plated iron, red copper, and gold."
"And for the one meant for me personally, engrave it in gold and inlay it with rubies."
"All right, that will be all for now."
Feeling that things were mostly settled, Kal ended the discussion with satisfaction.
And Tobho Mott, who had just secured such a lucrative commission, was so delighted he could barely close his mouth.
The order Kal brought was worth more than what he would earn from hosting dozens of other nobles combined.
Just the materials and craftsmanship required for Kal's suit of armor alone amounted to an astronomical sum.
Yet at this point, no one doubted Kal's ability to afford it.
For the mere sight of the several dozen top-quality rubies he had produced was already proof enough of his wealth and power.
Of course, Kal would never tell them that such things, when bought from merchants in the game world, could be as cheap as he wanted them to be.
Many of these items were merely materials for spellcasting—witches alone had plenty of them, not to mention the mother dragon's lair, where they were piled high like mountains.
So whether it was gold or gemstones, to Kal they were no different from dirt.
What he truly lacked in this world, however, was Valyrian steel.
Thinking of this, Kal turned his gaze toward Tobho Mott.
"I've heard you can forge Valyrian weapons?"
Tobho Mott, who had been excitedly calculating how much he would earn from this job—enough to profit both man and horse—was momentarily taken aback when he heard Kal's words.
"Of course. I learned the craft of working Valyrian steel in Qohor. Only those who know the proper spells and methods can restore old weapons to a renewed state."
Tobho Mott did not claim that he could forge new Valyrian weapons; he merely stated that he could reforge and refurbish them.
Upon hearing this, Kal couldn't help but recall how, in the original history, House Stark's greatsword Ice had been melted down by this very man and reforged into two weapons.
"If I am ever fortunate enough to obtain Valyrian steel, I will ask you to forge a sword for House El."
Hearing Tobho Mott speak with such certainty, Kal made his own noble wish.
Seeing such ambition in this young man, Tobho Mott naturally saw no reason to refuse.
Though he was a smith who understood the process of forging Valyrian steel weapons, the truth was, he had rarely handled any forged from it himself.
Hearing Kal's bold words, Tyrion, standing beside him, seemed to recall something.
"I believe that will be very difficult," he said, his gaze turning distant.
The others also looked toward him.
"The Lannisters once had an ancestral Valyrian treasure called Brightroar, but it was lost when King Tommen II of the Rock vanished during his expedition to Valyria. It has never been recovered."
"After that, the Lannisters constantly sought a replacement. My father approached many impoverished noble families throughout the realm, offering vast sums to buy their Valyrian steel swords, but he was refused time and again."
"In Westeros, most Valyrian steel blades rest in the hands of ancient noble houses. Each one bears its own name and story. They are regarded as priceless heirlooms of their lineages, and even the weakest and poorest of houses would never give them up."
"Kal, no family would sell its own honor, no matter how destitute it may be."
"Unless you take it through war."
Tyrion explained the difficulty of obtaining such a thing, warning Kal not to let himself be consumed by obsession.
Kal naturally understood his friend's reminder.
He patted Tyrion on the shoulder. "Of course. To start a war recklessly just to obtain it would have nothing to do with honor."
"As for whether I can acquire one—perhaps there are other ways."
Kal smiled and said no more.
Seeing that Kal was not blinded by youthful arrogance nor made conceited by all he had already achieved at his age, Tyrion felt a quiet sense of relief.
He suddenly thought that perhaps following Kal like this wasn't such an unpleasant thing after all.
At the very least, Kal intended to adorn his helm with a lion's mane—symbol of House Lannister—which was an unmistakable sign of respect.
And for a dwarf who had been cast down to the status of a commoner, to have such a noble friend who not only befriended him but also trusted him so deeply—to be honest, that was a kind of honor in itself.
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