Ice and Fire: Reign of the Dragon.

Chapter 377 The army gathers
Ser Wymond Tully was the first to spot the pursuers. The Tully family had extremely sharp ears after years of hunting, and they were also very alert.

They didn't believe that Daemon would really let them go. Just as Aegor said, Daemon didn't have time to subdue them. It was unrealistic to kill them directly in Harrenhal. If they detained so many nobles in the West Riverlands, they wouldn't have to wait for the dragons from King's Landing to come. The army of the Riverlands could rush to rescue them immediately, and Daemon's dragons couldn't help them - unless Daemon really intended to be a bandit instead of a knight king. So when Lady Catelyn Blackwood was the first to throw away her fish beam bone fan, kneel to Daemon and promise to be a hostage, Daemon could only let most of the nobles go - he had no choice but to do so. His inheritance rights came from the rules set by Aegon III, and he couldn't take the initiative to break the rules.

Sure enough, they did not overestimate these evil creatures.

"Scatter!" he shouted, startling the ducks from the reeds. "Frey! Take your men west!"

"Brave," said Merry Frey, but he did not move. The young man, who was famous for his archery skills, untied the double-curved longbow behind him and pulled out a heavy arrow for hunting large animals from the quiver. "My grandfather said," his voice was unusually calm, "the Frey family will never retreat."

The sheep thief appeared on the eastern skyline, at first just a peat-colored spot, and in the blink of an eye it expanded into a nightmare that covered the sky. Aegor was not wearing a helmet, and his black hair danced wildly in the wind. If he really let these nobles go, it would be inconsistent with his character. The more nobles from the West River died here, the fewer young people who could take up arms and mount horses to command the army. Those old men, women and children who could not lift guns were just a pile of loose sand. As long as they could contain enough dragons, their army and the princes loyal to them would have the opportunity to gain enough benefits.

It seemed like a good deal to him.

"Run!" Sir Weymond pushed Merry hard, "You fool!"

"The Frey family doesn't need me." Merry gritted his teeth and said, "We need someone to return to Riverrun as soon as possible to report the news."

The first wave of dragon flames passed close to the river surface, instantly evaporating a large area of ​​water. In the boiling steam, Merry's arrow flew out of the bow and accurately pierced the wing membrane joint of the sheep thief's left wing - it didn't cause much damage, but it was enough to humiliate him. The peat-colored dragon roared angrily.

Aegor was also furious. He pulled the dragon rope, and the sheep thief swooped down, and the dragon claws swept across the river bank like a sickle, turning several knights of the Piper family into meat paste along with their horses.

"For Riverrun!" The roar of the heir of Riverrun was drowned in the second wave of the dragon's breath. His armor melted into silver liquid under the high temperature, but shockingly, he still stood, keeping the posture of holding the sword, until his body carbonized into a black statue.

Merry Frey's second arrow hit Aegor's shoulder, and the third arrow flew past the sheep thief's eye. The fourth arrow failed to leave the string - the dragon's tail swept past, and the young man's upper and lower body were forever left on the fertile field of the riverlands where the snow had not yet melted.

They bought time for the other nobles.

When the surviving nobles fled back to Riverrun, they brought back not only the bad news, but also the heroic images of the young men fighting hard.

So Lord Tully of Riverrun angrily put on Kermit Tully's armor, the Twins raised the bloody twin towers, and the dancers of Pink Castle shed bloody tears. The soldiers of Raventree rushed into the territory of the Brackens at the first time, looting the border villages and killing everyone they could find.

Oldtown received the letter from King's Landing almost at the same time as Dragon's Nest.

No sooner had the raven brought the news than Prince Aerion Targaryen overturned the entire council table.

"Aegon, what a mess you left us in the seven fucking hells!"

The wine glass smashed against the honey-colored stone wall, and the deep red wine flowed like blood. The purple eyes of the Prince of Oldtown burned with terrifying anger, and his long silver-gold hair was scattered like a lion's mane in his rage.

"Daemon Blackfyre!" His roar made the glass of the Maester Tower vibrate. "I gave him a chance to live - and he repays me with betrayal?!"

His son, Wallis, stood in the shadows, the young man still a little timid. "Father, calm down-"

"Calm down?" Aerion turned sharply, his cloak sweeping off a shelf of ancient books. "The dragon has three heads! It's the blessing and curse of the family! Does he want to be Aegon the Conqueror?"

A low dragon roar was heard outside the window. Vermax, the dark green majestic dragon, was hovering over the Old Town Port, its wings covering half of the palace's dome.

Prince Maegon silently picked up the fallen letter, and the purple-gold Galesos was breathing sulfur in the courtyard behind him. "We need to set off." His voice was terrifyingly calm. "I will also take good care of those two rebellious sons who got together with the bastard."

While the night mist was still floating over the Mead River, three giant dragons had already passed over the city and flew towards the northeast.

Vermax led the charge, his dark green scales looking like a deep forest in the morning light. Irion wore the three-headed dragon helmet that Ringol had given him, his face grim.

The flying posture of the Amber Shadow was so strange that it was disturbing. The neck of this giant dragon with milky white scales was twisted like a snake, and its eyes were always half closed, as if it would dive into the river from a high altitude at any time and grab a warship like a crocodile gar. Varys clung to the dragon's neck, and seemed to be trembling slightly.

The purple-gold scales of Garethos reflected the rainbow, and Prince Maegon fastened himself to the dragon saddle with chains, with a map of Westeros spread out in front of him. His eyes kept sweeping across the Riverlands and the Reach.

"Third brother, let's go to the riverside, we might find some evil creatures there."

Mei Geng's voice came from afar.

Meanwhile, in the palace at Oldtown, Aemon Targaryen was delirious with a high fever.

"Haiyan. Family"

The maesters applied an ice towel to his scalding forehead, but they could not stop the broken words from leaking out from his pale lips. The sea smoke outside the window - the silver-gray majestic dragon was gently hitting the outer wall of the palace with its head, causing the black stone to fall. The dragon was restless.

Nairis held her husband's skinny hand, tears dripping onto the quilt embroidered with the three-headed red dragon family emblem. "He was just talking about riding a dragon to help Aerion."

The maesters bowed their heads.

Anger worsened the prince's condition. This dragon knight, who had been famous for decades, might really have no chance to ride and fight with dragons.

In the borderlands, within sixteen days after the ravens were sent out from Dragon's Nest, the princes of the borderlands and the nobles of Dorne, who seemed to have been well prepared, had already begun to gather.

A war between dragons requires dragons.

A war between men requires men.

They have been waiting for this moment for a long time.

The black basalt walls of Nightsong looked like the back of a great beast in the twilight, and the torches on the battlements formed a winding dragon of fire. Little Lord Aslan Rondel stood on the howling tower, his dark purple cloak fluttering in the wind.

"Blow the horn," he whispered.

woo-

The sound of the horn tore through the night sky, as deep as a dragon's breath, echoing between the canyons of the Red Mountains.

The plain below the city had long since become a sea of ​​steel and leather. The copper-scaled armor of Dornish spearmen gleamed in the firelight, like a golden sandstorm in the desert; the light cavalry of House Dayne rode on lean sand horses, their scimitars shining like crescents; the knights of House Selmy held high the banner of Harvest Hall, and the old man's head of House Kaon and the nightingale of House Cullen fluttered in the air.

The old Prince Lucerys Martell rode slowly through the ranks on a pure white desert stallion. His armor was inlaid with copper and black jade, and on his breastplate were engraved the golden spear of House Martell and the seahorse of House Velaryon. When he raised his spear, forty-five thousand warriors raised their weapons at the same time, and the sound of steel clashing was like thunder rolling across the land.

"For the real dragon!"

The roar shattered the clouds above Nightsong City.

In the oak hall of Dunstonbury, Lord Alan Zhayan slammed his fist on the ancient oak table, causing the wine glass to jump. His family emblem - a burning flame - was embroidered on the scarlet battle robe, as if real flames would ignite at any time.

"The war has begun, not only against the bastards of the true dragon, but also against the traitors." He looked around at the lords present, his voice as rough as a grindstone, "Now it's our turn."

The knights of the Dagareon family were silent as iron, with flying snakes and tears engraved on their armor; the warriors of the Strong family silently prepared to recover the honor of their family; the archers of the Bisbury family checked the bowstrings of the yew longbows, each of which was soaked in poisonous snake venom.

"Twenty-five thousand people," Alan Jieyan drew his sword, the blade reflecting the firelight from the fireplace, "enough to scare the traitors."

woo-

The horns at Dunstonbury sounded sharper than those at Nightsong, stabbing like a dagger into the night.

The wheat fields of Falkenton had just been harvested. The banner of the Cavron family was unfurling in the wind, and beneath it stood Earl Pierce Cavron, his sword humming in its sheath.

The black-robed cavalry of House Dondarrion were like a moving shadow, and their lord Roland Dondarrion was humming an ancient war song softly; the cavalry of House Hoss formed a wedge formation, and the tips of their spears formed a forest of steel; the knights of House Haydon were wiping their steel shields, which were engraved with the coat of arms of House Haydon.

When the first ray of sunlight pierced through the clouds, Earl Pierce raised his sword, and the ripples on the sword were like flowing morning light.

"set off!"

Sixteen thousand throats roared at the same time, scaring away all the crows in the field.

Behind them, the Dothraki cavalry of Azul'khal swept by like a bronze storm, their braided bells tinkling in the wind, their scimitars reflecting the glaring sunlight.

The giant dragon Golden King of Regen Vareses and the sunlight of Princess Elena danced in the air, and the armor of the 30,000 Silver Blood Army was like flowing mercury in the sunlight.

The dragon roared and announced the departure of the southern army.

"set off!"

(End of this chapter)