[Chapter Size: 2400 Words.]
Third Person POV.
King's Landing.
...
...
Daemon stood there, watching the crowd of people who looked on in horror, while he kept the Dragon Aspect activated, transforming himself into a mythical figure in the eyes of all.
His shout seed to have no effect when he called out for Aegon Blackfyre.
He simply raised his hand.
If they would not co to him, then he would go to Aegon.
In the next mont, the mist began to form, creating a direct path toward one corner of the army. He was using clairvoyance to find Aegon.
Then, he pointed at the n in that direction and shouted: "Dracarys!"
In the next instant, Viridrax roared, burning the n who desperately tried to get out of the line of flas or move away from it. Those who were at the center of the flas had no chance at all and could only watch as a sea of fire swallowed them like a dry river being filled by an opened dam.
The screams ca right after. The sound of despair was even greater than before the white flas of Winter. After all, the white flas killed silently, while the red ones burned n alive.
Arrows began to be fired in the next mont, aid at the dragon. But, just a few centiters before reaching its skin, they simply struck sothing invisible. Even its face was hit, but no effect was caused.
The dragon was free to respond as it wished. Stretching its neck forward, it began to spew flas over the archers, as they scread and died one by one.
Daemon continued advancing toward where Aegon should be.
At the sa mont the first arrow was fired, others also ca in his direction. Desperate n threw spears before beginning to flee.
The weapons kept striking his body just like they did his dragon, but the armor simply repelled them. His magical form was more resistant than even the Dragon Skin spell itself.
His steps soon quickened, and he began to run at a perfect pace.
Even within the flas — where oxygen was scarce, since the fire consud everything — and where many n died of asphyxiation before even being burned, he was not affected.
He advanced without being hindered.
Soon he found the end of the flas, but there was still a path to be crossed.
The enemy soldiers saw the shining man running toward them. He pulled the axe, creating ice, and then threw it forward.
The weapon ford a blade of ice, creating a massive disc that flew at high speed, massacring the first n, who were split in half by the force of the impact.
The axe returned to his hand and he kept running.
"Stop him!", they shouted, overco with fear.
Behind him, the dragon continued spewing fire upon the army, preventing any advance toward Viridrax, who kept massacring without letting anyone get close.
The arrows kept striking against him, without effect.
Daemon could hear the roar moving away behind him, yet still loud enough to be heard throughout the entire region.
As for Aegon... As he looked, he saw his forr dragon roaring.
The dragon he had raised… had now turned against him.
'I should be grateful. You brought dragons and Blackfyre to . Soon, I will have them.' Daemon's voice erged at that mont. As he spoke, he made it clear that he had to "be grateful" for bringing all of this to the true Targaryen family when he decided to co and conquer the Iron Throne — pretending to be a baby long since dead.
"Damn… they must have captured Harry", Jon Connington said, worried, as he saw the elephants being burned alive while advancing north. Others simply crushed their own army along the way, out of control.
n tried to stop them, but could not even climb onto them. Those who were supposed to guide them were dead — so still atop the elephants, with Daemon's arrows lodged in their bodies.
"We need to kill the dragon…", soone murmured, as the n kept advancing straight into the flas. They had no choice.
Another scout reached them. "My lord! Everyone is dying behind the camp! The mist is coming and it's massacring the n… it's like a poison in the air!", he said, pale, his face filled with fear.
"There is an opening further west, heading north. We can send our n there", Garlan arrived, shouting.
"You're right, we'll send our largest force. We have enough n for that", Jon replied.
That group of horsen from before, heading into the flas in the north, would be another sacrifice to cross the fire and open a path, distracting the enemy. They would need to smother the flas or pressure the enemy, while another cavalry would head toward the opening in the northwest.
Garlan tried to say sothing, but upon seeing Jon's expression, he fell silent.
The dragon's roar echoed once more behind them.
Now, Jon was more concerned about the dragon in the middle of the army than the war itself.
"He is here! He is getting closer!", n shouted.
A scout ca running. "Daemon himself is in the middle of the army! Fighting… massacring everyone like a monster!!!"
"He is in the middle of an enemy army? Surrounded by more than a hundred thousand n trying to kill him… is he insane!?", Jon shouted, stunned.
Garlan was left speechless. His face now showed fear.
'What kind of man does that?' But deep down, he already knew the answer.
After all, that sa man had fought the previous night against a dragon alone… and won. Before killing Willas.
Garlan began to question everything he thought he knew about the world. He had already heard stories about the monster Daemon could beco — transforming into a 3-ter wolf walking like a man, massacring city soldiers, invading noble castles, as well as the Citadel, and looting the vaults...
But seeing that in person… Seeing a man without fear, in the middle of an enemy army, carving his way alone toward his target…
That was beyond any expectation.
Garlan truly began to wonder if Daemon was so kind of god — or, at the very least, a demigod.
"The morale is dropping far too fast!", Jon muttered, frustrated, watching his n retreat, running west.
No one wanted to remain in that direction.
Whether because of the dragon. Or because of Daemon — who advanced, killing everything in his path.
"Why aren't they killing that dragon? Tell them to keep firing! Make it advance! I want to see those damn weapons pierce that creature's skin!", Jon Connington shouted.
He had already made his decision. He could not allow that dragon to live.
"They are trying, my lord! But nothing works! The dragon is ignoring all attacks, as if nothing bothers it!", a man replied.
The field was already completely in flas. No one could get closer anymore, while arrows continued to be fired, striking the dragon.
Viridrax, irritated, advanced even further into the army, spewing more flas. The arrows fell upon him like rain, but he continued burning his enemies, one after another.
Jon, Garlan, and the others were clearly worried.
Then, a sound began to draw their attention.
Everyone turned their eyes to the northwest. A small, constant rumble...
It was coming from beyond the wall of flas to the north... Coming from the opening in the flas further northwest.
It was the sound of cavalry...
"It can't be…", Jon Connington muttered, his face trembling.
Garlan seed equally concerned. He looked at Lord Tarly being treated nearby, who was still recovering — his arm and face were raw from the flas of Daemon's first attack on the cavalry, while n tried to clean the wounds.
Varys approached, his expression completely different from before. Now, there was clear fear in his eyes as he looked at Aegon, who also seed shaken.
anwhile, Daemon kept advancing, killing n one after another, even while surrounded, being struck by arrows and spears, yet nothing truly hard him.
He was a killing machine and an impenetrable fortress, a combination that brought terror to the enemies there.
n scread, tried to flee, but he kept cutting down all who appeared before him.
Then, he raised his head.
He heard the sound.
And smiled. "Finally…", he said.
Monts before even mounting Winter to begin his plans, he had gathered his commanders.
"I want you to do exactly this: prepare the cavalry. I will leave a gap for you to pass through the flas."
They nodded. Now, the plan was in motion.
The archers were prepared to attack anyone who tried to cross the wall of fire, while around thirty thousand mounted n prepared on the western side.
Among them were knights from the Riverlands, the North, the Stormlands, and even so n from the free folk — few, but trained in recent days, as Daemon had ordered.
The sound drew closer.
The dragon was in the middle of the enemy army.
That was the signal.
Stannis Baratheon steadied himself on his horse. "All of you, ready! Follow at full speed!", he shouted.
They all nodded, protected by their heavy armor.
Then he pointed forward.
"FOR THE KING! WITH ! GO!"
And they charged.
A mass of horses surged southward, circling the only gap left by Daemon in the wall of flas.
First, a few dozen passed through. Then, hundreds. Then, thousands followed soon after, as one man led at the front of them all.
It was at that mont that Jon, Aegon, and Garlan saw it. Tens of thousands of riders began to advance.
"Damn…", Jon Connington muttered, his voice coming out weaker than ever before, as he watched the mass advancing through the flas, unable to stop them.
There were around thirty thousand horses charging at full force.
An entire army in open field — and they were vulnerable.
Daemon slaughtered another man before raising his gaze, a faint smile on his face. He had prepared that scenario for the enemy. Even though he had the chance to lead his troops directly in Stannis' place, he knew that being there, in the middle of the enemy army facing them alone, destroying their morale, would be even more devastating for the Blackfyre allied forces.
The scene was terrifying.
From the south ca the deadly cold front.
Further east, Daemon — with his dragon — burned everything in front of him as he advanced to reach the enemy king.
From the northwest, a massive cavalry charge advanced.
And to the north… there was a wall of flas.
Jon was not standing in front of Aegon, but he could feel his despair.
That man might appear gallant and know how to carry himself, but, in that scenario, it was impossible not to collapse. After so many losses… seeing his army being massacred… while everyone demanded that he do sothing to stop the chaos…
Despair was inevitable. Varys, Jon, and Garlan frowned.
Especially Jorah Mormont at Aegon's side, he thought about his own past.
He could have returned to being a knight of the Seven Kingdoms independently. Perhaps he could have joined the n of the North after receiving the royal pardon, by bringing Viserys to King Robert to be publicly executed.
Jorah knew he would not be welco in the North. But if he had fought alongside his aunt and his cousins with Robb… perhaps he might have found redemption.
Even if it ended in failure. Not even Lord Stark could have prevented it.
But he did not do that. He was rely obedient… and followed Varys' plans.
Varys wanted him to travel through the south, to get to know the houses and participate in tournants, preparing himself before Aegon's arrival — this happened before Daemon's first arrival in King's Landing.
At that ti, Varys wanted Jorah to be an observer; he wanted him to beco an advisor for the future king.
However, as powerful as Aegon might have seed — even with 3 dragons, a rcenary company, and several houses at his side, especially the Martells and Tyrells, with their vast armies — the reality was different.
The expectation was wrong. Because the enemy also had the sa number of n.
They also had n, had a dragon. They had more houses supporting them... Claiming to be the true heir to the throne.
Things had started to go wrong since Aegon entered Westeros. Since he lost his dragon. Since he ca with too much confidence.
But here… it was impossible to mock the enemy coming from the north.
He could not respond to the provocations of the other Targaryen. He had lost his dragons, and now his army was being consud.
Jorah knew he was not the only one there who was regretting it.
Several houses — from the Crownlands, the Reach, the Stormlands, and Dorne — stood beside him, ready to conquer. But all they saw now were their n being killed, without even having the chance for a real battle.
The screams echoed across the entire field.
Fear.
Despair.
In the middle of the army, they were facing a monster.
With Daemon getting closer and closer, many even seed to ignore the deadly cold front, the flas to the north, and the advancing cavalry.
There was also the dragon in the middle of the army, burning everything, with impenetrable skin — no attack worked against it.
"We must protect the king!", Jon Connington said to Aegon, pulling Jorah from his own thoughts. "We must protect the king with our lives, do you understand?"
There was real concern in his voice.
Aegon was still there, at the center of the chaos.
He had been trained for many things.
But not for that.
The n who once looked at him with admiration now stared at him with despair… and even with anger.
He was supposed to be their king.
anwhile, Daemon kept advancing. The man whom Aegon had sworn to take revenge on for the murder of Illyrio, Aegon's true father.
The n tried to move away from Daemon at that mont, throwing themselves backward as much as they could after seeing the pile of bodies left behind by him.
Seeing this, Daemon was already imagining Aegon's ntal state and could not help but snort.
"Just don't collapse before I reach you… I will need your sword. And I also want to cut off your head personally." He murmured this within his draconic form, as he advanced.
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