Ice and Fire: Reign of the Dragon.

Chapter 384: Tightening the Encirclement

On the western border of the Riverlands, under the shadow of the mountains, six giant dragons live among the rugged rocks, and the low roar of dragon flames is like the whisper from hell.

Daemon Blackfyre stood on a towering basalt, with the Blackfyre sword slanted at his feet, and the snake neck of Korakshu coiled behind the usurper prince. The dark red ripples on the sword looked like dried blood in the twilight. His purple eyes swept across the dragon riders in front of him - these desperate men who followed him, these madmen who were eager to burn the world.

Aegor Rivers leaned against the peat-colored body of the sheep thief, his dragon-winged steed in black armor darkened by blood. Aegon Sunfyre stroked the emerald scales of Jade Orinth, his whip wrapped around his arm, the golden threads trembling in the wind. Trystane Sand stood in the shadow of Gerorion, the bronze dragon's pupils burning like molten copper. Doran Sand's Aegis crouched on the ground, its gray scales covered with black lines shaped like lightning, and a low thunder rolled in its throat.

Behind them, under the protection of Haiyan's dragon wings, Lei Huojia was still looking at Damon foolishly with an expression of admiration.

"Look at us." Daemon's voice was not loud, but it pierced everyone's eardrums like a black fire sword. "Six dragons, six knights - and the group of cowards on the Iron Throne are still arguing about who to send to die."

Aegor grinned. "Let them come. I need some new skulls to use as drinking glasses."

Daemon slowly drew out the Blackfyre Sword, pointing the tip of the sword in the direction of King's Landing. "Our cowardly brother was willing to serve as a lackey of the Silver Dragon, and he made the Targaryen Iron Throne tainted with the stench of others." His voice gradually rose, "Our father gave us blood and rights - but they want to tie us up with chains! Use swords to wipe out the pride of the royal family! They want to let the conqueror's legacy fall into the hands of the descendants of the bitch princess's bastard!"

Jade Orinth suddenly raised his head and neighed, emerald dragon flames spraying into the night sky, as if echoing his master's anger.

"The Riverlands are just the beginning." Daemon turned his sword to the east, "The land of conquest is already waiting for us - the ports, fleets, and gold there will all become the cornerstone of the True Dragon Dynasty!"

Trystane Sand knelt on one knee, Gerorion's shadow looming over him. "My sword, my dragon, my life—all are yours, sire."

Doran's gray dragon Igris suddenly spread his wings, and the black lightning patterns on the wing membrane flickered strangely in the twilight. "They call us traitors," his brother Doran Sand sneered, "Then let us let the Seven Kingdoms remember that traitors can also burn the throne!"

"For the honor of the true dragon!" Lei Huojia shouted enthusiastically. From the moment he found Daemon on Sea Smoke, Daemon's warm smile, respectful treatment, and the surprise of "You are finally here" made Lei Huojia completely fall into the craze for Daemon - the child had never seen anyone praising him like this.

"For the legitimacy of the Iron Throne." This was the cry of Aegon Sunfyre! He held up a small crown that was obviously worn by a child - it belonged to his father, Mellar, and the crown had not been searched and remained in their hands.

The dragon knights held a simple coronation ceremony for Daemon.

From that moment on, Daemon, wearing the children's crown, became Daemon I of the Targaryen dynasty, Protector of the Realm, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, and the legitimate king of the Iron Throne.

Of course, later historians more often call him "Daemon I of the Blackfyre Dynasty."

Daemon raised the Blackfire Sword, and six giant dragons roared at the same time. The dragon roars echoed in the valley, shaking the rock walls and causing rocks to fall.

Aegor took the opportunity to raise Daemon's flag - in order to demonstrate legitimacy, he changed the Targaryen flag with a red three-headed dragon on a black background to a black three-headed dragon on a red background - which was in agreement with the rebels in various places.

"We will burn our way out." His purple eyes reflected the last rays of light from the sky. "Let King's Landing tremble in the dragon flames, and let the Conquered Lands become the cradle of the new dynasty!"

The dragons are searching for dragons, but those flying guys are hard to find.

But things that can't fly are hard to let go.

The walls of Harrenhal were barely visible in the morning mist, and the five tall towers looked like the five fingers of a giant.

Lord Tully's trout banner was the first to break through the mist, followed by dozens of northern banners, including direwolves, skinners, raven trees, and the two towers. The 30,000 northern-riverland coalition troops rolled through the riverlands like an iron stream, and the spear tips glowed coldly under the low sky. "Faster!" Rickon Stark rode on his warhorse, with Lord Bolton and Lord Karstark galloping beside him, "We must encircle Harrenhal before sunset."

Behind him, Lord Umber's roar shook the snow off the treetops: "Let those riverland traitors taste the axe of the North!"

This time, the northerners came very quickly. After Blackwood, Frey and Tully slaughtered Bracken, the vanguard cavalry of the northerners rushed across the Neck and joined the army of the riverlands. Then the 35,000 northerners arrived at the riverlands. After a brief meeting with the army of the western riverlands and the six dragon riders heading north, the northern riverlands army split into two groups, one heading south, and joined the central army of Vareses and the army of the Reach of the Tyrell family. The great nobles of the Reach gathered 70,000 troops, frantically encroaching on the land of the small and medium nobles who raised the flag of rebellion this time. Together, they drove the rebels of the Reach and the southern riverlands to the predetermined decisive battle site.

Before the coalition forces completed the siege of Harrenhal, Harrenhal suddenly lowered its flag.

On the towering walls, the gates were wide open, but the drawbridge was still suspended. A few sentinels stood on the battlements, but their longbows had already been lowered.

"Something is wrong," Ser Oswell Blackwood frowned. "It is too quiet."

"Even if we surrender, it won't be so quiet."

"I'll send someone to check it out." Lord Bolton said in a soft voice.

When the first group of northern scouts approached the city wall, people finally discovered the truth - the city gate was filled with burning food and grass, and the smoke obscured the sky. The nobles of the East River had already abandoned the city and fled, leaving only a few torn flags fluttering in the wind.

"Cowards!" Earl Amber kicked over the empty barrel, "They don't even dare to defend it!"

Lady Catelyn Blackwood wearily greeted her family's warriors and her husband, Earl Quentyn. "They went south," she narrowed her emerald eyes, flashing a dangerous light in them, "towards the grasslands in the south."

The rebel camp was as chaotic as an ant nest and they had no time to take care of themselves.

This was not what Quentin Boll had promised.

Lord Leicester smashed his tankard, spilling ale on Quentyn's boots. "What now? Harrenhal is lost, and the dragon is gone!"

"His Majesty Daemon said--" Lord Harroway began to speak, but was interrupted by a burst of laughter.

"Daemon? Your Majesty?" Lord Mooton sneered, "Where are his dragons now? Are they helping us fight? No! They are running for their lives! We are now threatened by eight dragons, seven layers of hell, eight dragons, and Wormithor. Quentin, what on earth have you done?"

"Your Majesty, they killed a dragon."

"We killed a young dragon, and the rider was a weak prince?" Lord Mooton was filled with grief. "But we have to face nineteen dragons! Nineteen!"

In the corner of the tent, Count Ambrose Butterwell was slowly peeling an apple, his silver dagger gleaming coldly in the firelight. He whispered to his vassal and friend, "I heard... when Prince Wallis died, Perch's screams could be heard ten miles away." He took a bite of the fruit, and his voice became unclear, "I wonder what Korakshu would scream like when he was burned?"

Several small lords exchanged glances and covered the mouth of the Lord with their hands at the same time.

(End of this chapter)