[Chapter Size: 2500 Words.]
Third Person POV.
King's Landing.
...
...
The battlefield seed to gradually calm down, as the tragic wind broke the silence, carrying the sll of tragedy. Viridrax was still quite active.
Daemon observed the battlefield. Aegon's body was in front of him. His gaze was no longer on the dead boy, but rather to the south.
There were still many people fleeing the camp, while the cold front continued killing as it spread through it.
In any case, the enemy army was reduced by half even in just a few hours... this was a one-sided massacre, indeed.
His n were basically massacring everyone with the cavalry. Half of the enemy army had been destroyed in total, around eighty thousand people were killed, most not by Daemon or his dragons, but by the cavalry, which easily massacred more than sixty thousand people and lost at most 4 thousand.
Now Daemon had to control the situation. "Everyone drop your weapons! Be escorted out of the battlefield! Kneel, while my n must keep you under surveillance! I will deal with the deadly cold air before it arrives!" His voice echoed throughout the place.
Robb Stark approached. "Daemon." He said.
"Robb, inform Stannis that he is to keep all enemies under surveillance. I want the main prisoners being taken to King's Landing, that clearly includes Mace Tyrell, as well as the Princess of Dorne," he demanded.
Robb simply nodded, while Daemon turned toward the southern side. In front of him, any man in the way quickly moved aside. He did not look at the bodies left behind — he knew they would take care of them — and advanced to a horse, grabbing it and heading further south at a gallop.
His dragon had already stopped. When he easily entered Viridrax's mind, the creature flew toward the black dragon, which remained still in the sa spot in front of the wall. Winter also landed on the other side of the flas to rest a bit.
It didn't take long for Daemon to reach the part of the camp with the horse. He was approaching a group of Dornish, while narrowing his eyes. As he ran into it, an arrow was shot directly at his horse. Daemon created a shield, protecting the horse, while jumping off it. At least, he would not let the animal die while he continued riding away alone.
Daemon stopped, observing the tents.
In fact, he was surrounded by Dornish at that mont. Around that place, everyone seed to look at him with hostile gazes.
"So this is how it is?", Daemon laughed. "I was just going to stop the storm, but it seems so prisoners are already trying to assassinate for what I did to House Martell."
"So be it. Co at already," he said, pulling Dark Sister from his dinsional space.
There were at least five hundred Dornish around, and all of them turned toward him. Smiling, Daemon crossed both hands, one over the other, opening them in a motion as purple flas shone in his hands. Dozens of Oblivion portals began to form with swirling stone-colored spheres.
He summoned around ten fire atronachs, ten lightning atronachs, and ten ice atronachs.
His connection with Oblivion had increased, so he could perform even greater summons than those — but that was already more than enough.
The numbers were certainly high. From the flas erged ten female bodies of fire, ten ice golems, and ten stone golems — creatures that didn't even have a humanoid shape, just floating rocks, connected by purple energy with lightning.
"Everyone who has weapons pointed at us, attack," was all Daemon said.
Suddenly, flas and lightning began to be fired, catching them by surprise, while the golems advanced at high speed, breaking the tents and charging at the unprepared n.
Certainly, that had already drawn attention from the other side, where the battlefield had taken place.
"They are attacking the king!", soone shouted, seeing from atop a horse, calling the rest of the cavalry, which quickly created an external commotion and advanced toward the camp.
But it wasn't necessary. anwhile, the Dornish certainly didn't even know how to deal with those creatures. The flas exploded on them; the fire atronachs, with each strike, killed them; and the lightning ones — they didn't even have a chance to dodge. Any electrical discharge simply made them collapse dead on the ground, sotis even shriveling, as the discharge evaporated the water from their bodies when strong enough.
In any case, Daemon observed. He no longer needed to worry about those five hundred n.
His eyes turned to the tents. "Are you going to hide in there like little desert rats?", he said with a smile.
Then, finally, soone ca out of the tents, grabbing a knife and throwing it in his direction. Daemon caught the knife before it even touched him, holding it easily.
He still had Dragon Skin active. That blade certainly couldn't hurt him, not even if it tried to truly strike him. He only did that out of dignity — not letting the blade even get close to his face, even if it couldn't harm him.
A scream ca right after. A woman ca running toward him. Daemon simply laughed as he recognized Oberyn's bastard daughter.
He released the knife and raised his hand the mont she jumped at him, making her stop in midair, as if sothing was grabbing her neck. Her body struggled as she suffocated, feeling her neck being pressed by an invisible force, while Daemon kept one hand raised and Dark Sister in the other.
She took sothing from her pocket and threw it to the ground, creating a huge explosion of smoke.
"I see you have a trick from your father," Daemon comnted, losing all visibility of the place. Then he simply closed his hand.
Her bones broke right there, and it was possible to hear them amid the smoke.
His life detection ability was activated imdiately. He saw two more presences moving toward him — other sisters, trying to attack him within the smoke.
Those won moved as well. Dark Sister cut off the head of the first before she could even react, since everything should also be invisible to her.
The second seed to sense that her sister had died, screaming. But Daemon had already picked up the knife from the ground with telekinesis and threw it toward the scream. The Dornish woman barely had ti to react before being hit directly, falling dead.
"Fus" Daemon cast his Thu'um downward, creating a force that pushed all the smoke away. All that could be seen now were dead bodies.
A cry of lant ca right after. Oberyn's lover scread upon seeing the three daughters dead.
Daemon found the princess trembling inside one of the tents behind the woman, with his eyes. He continued advancing toward her.
As he passed by Ellaria crying, he simply cut off her head. He could see the hatred and desire for revenge in that gaze — leaving her alive would be a mistake. The woman fell dead in the next mont.
He went to the tent and lifted its structure into the air with telekinesis, revealing its interior. Arianne stared at him inside, with tears in her eyes. All they had done was try to kill him — believing that, with a group of loyal Dornish and a plan that even involved the sacrifice of one of them, they would be able to eliminate him within the smoke.
But it had gone wrong. Daemon was perfectly fine, as if he had rely dealt with a group of stubborn children.
The Dornish were still dying, while the cavalry arrived and massacred the rest. It was difficult even to distinguish who was still an enemy.
Arianne looked at him. She had already received the news that everyone had been killed. The last of the Martells.
"Why are you doing this? You are destroying my entire family! It wasn't supposed to be like this!", she shouted.
"Unfortunately, your family ceased to exist because of its own choices," Daemon replied. "Nothing against you… but I cannot let this continue. This will prevent problems in the future. I will not allow the birth of a rebellion."
"No! You will never do this! This war has already traumatized too much! You know what I am capable of!", she retorted.
Daemon kept a calm tone. "You, perhaps not. But your descendants… I know very well how the people of Dorne are resentful. They used to call my mother 'the she-wolf whore who killed Elia Martell', over the years."
With those words, he simply lifted her with telekinesis and made her hit her head with enough force just to knock her unconscious.
"Stannis!", Daemon called, as he began to cancel the summons. All of them disappeared after having easily destroyed 500 Dornish n.
Stannis approached and saw the fallen princess. "Take her along with Mace Tyrell. They will be executed in a short ti.", Daemon ordered.
Then, he brought a horse and rode again toward the middle of the camp, which was already being consud by the cold air, leaving several bodies and people who had not managed to escape the cold front.
"Lok Vah Koor!" He cast a weather-clearing Thu'um, balancing the temperature and clearing the sky. The invisible blizzard still continued, but it no longer had the sa intensity as before, and as he executed 'Lok Vah Koor' it gradually began to dissipate, with the air becoming clear once again.
Daemon was satisfied. He knew well what he had done. When he unleashed the tornadoes to push back the deadly cold front, his intention was certainly to massacre everyone — but he didn't know how the battle would truly unfold.
The plan was to evacuate the cavalry imdiately and pull back so that all of the enemy army would die, while they would be trapped between the wall of flas and the cold front. After that, he would order an attack from the northwest. When no one remained alive, they would return to destroy the cold front.
But in the end, none of that was necessary. The war had ended in just a few hours of the first day — faster than Daemon had imagined.
There was no need for a siege, nor an open-field clash with armies colliding. He simply used his powers, his dragons, and the resources he had.
In the end, he erged victorious with an overwhelming victory. Now, he began to return to the battlefield, heading toward the camp.
"Strun Bah Qo!" He roared once more to the sky. The weather quickly began to darken, and a stormy rain erged over the wall of flas. He even used Winter to help him, making the dragon release its cold breath, without flas, while the fire easily receded with the help of the rain.
The n seed quite frightened by that, as lightning filled the entire sky.
"Do not worry!", Daemon shouted, his voice being heard by all.
He held the reins of a horse he had taken earlier. "The sky marks our victory!"
"Lok Vah Koor!" He unleashed another Thu'um and the sky beca clear once again.
Hundreds of thousands, at that mont, looked at him as if he were so kind of god — soone who could control the weather.
Those who were with him in King's Landing already knew he possessed that power. But those who ca from the south could not help but tremble, realizing that perhaps they had never stood a chance against soone like him.
A Targaryen like that would never be forgotten in history. A man who could use magical powers, face dragons, enter armies alone, transform into a monster — a giant wolf in human form — and be ruthless against his enemies.
He always killed all who opposed him, without hesitation.
"We have won this war!", Daemon shouted.
As soon as his voice echoed, a roar of victory ca right after. "OOOOHHHHHHH!!!" ca the roar of nearly two hundred thousand people!
His n, even seeing Daemon do things no other man could do, had no doubts: the victory had been theirs.
Those who were in front of King's Landing did not even need to fight much — the enemy retreated.
Daemon kept advancing, seeing more than a hundred thousand enemies surrendering. He also saw his n shouting, celebrating.
"Take the prisoners to the gate! Bring the mbers of House Tyrell and Martell!", he ordered.
He continued to the gate and climbed the stairs, reaching the platform where he had executed Willas Tyrell, Doran Martell, and his son.
There, he placed the first of them — Mace Tyrell, who was still in shock.
"Well, I just want to finish executing these fools before we truly celebrate our victory.", Daemon announced.
"As a Targaryen, rightful king and protector of the Seven Kingdoms, I declare Mace Tyrell to death, for treason and for allying with a Blackfyre. After four rebellions, the realms have already bled too much. Even so, this Reach family continues to seek power. You have been able to see it — jumping from branch to branch, from marriage to marriage, always in pursuit of power. Am I wrong?"
He asked the question openly.
Most agreed. Everyone knew the story of Margaery Tyrell, involving herself with Renly Baratheon, then becoming engaged to Joffrey, before escaping King's Landing… and now joining a Blackfyre. That family was far too greedy.
"That is why I am extinguishing the Tyrell bloodline. I will speak about the succession of the Reach later. Now… let execute the Lord of the Reach. Do you have any last words?"
But Mace Tyrell did not respond.
He simply stared ahead, with an empty gaze. He had collapsed upon learning that his son Garlan had also been killed, shortly before being taken out of the tent. He had already been broken since the execution of Willas.
With an empty expression, Daemon did not hesitate. He lowered the sword and beheaded him right there.
The head fell and rolled.
Next, they brought Arianne Martell, waking her. She began to cry upon realizing where she was — on an execution platform, with Daemon before her, and Mace Tyrell's headless body still there.
"Please… do whatever you want with , but spare ", she begged.
Ignoring those words, he began to repeat the sa speech he had made about the Tyrells. Perhaps they were not as blatant, but they still sought power through alliances and relationships.
Arianne, lover of a Blackfyre. In the end, she herself had been brought to war.
"Any last words?", he asked.
She only cried. Then Daemon lowered the blade and killed her right there.
The last mbers of both families present were executed.
House Martell had been completely eliminated.
House Tyrell still had so distant mbers… but not many.
"Well… now we have to pay a visit to the south at Storm's End...", Daemon said, thoughtful. "Perhaps I will go with the fire dragon or the ice dragon later today. There is still that old woman and Margaery…"
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