Ice and Fire: Reign of the Dragon.

Chapter 385: The Defeated Rebels

On the walls of Storm's End, the crown and stag banner of House Baratheon fluttered in the wind.

Lyonel Baratheon stood beside his father, clenching his knuckles nervously. The smiling boy couldn't laugh at all at this moment. On the plain outside the city, the 60,000-man army spread to the sky like a black tide. The spear tips and armor shone coldly under the gloomy sky. The Dothraki cavalry with bell braids but wearing armor shuttled between the spears and armor. Lyonel dared to swear to the Seven Gods that he had never seen so many cavalry and knights in his life. Even more suffocating were the two giant dragons entrenched above the army - the Golden King, a behemoth with scales shining like molten gold, and the Sunshine, a smaller but incredibly fast bright-colored female dragon.

"They are not here to negotiate," Lord Baratheon said in a voice as low as thunder. "They are here to force us to choose sides."

Lionel swallowed his saliva. He saw the Golden King's dragon flames rolling under the clouds, and every breath made the air hotter.

"Father, are we not always loyal to the Iron Throne?"

"No, they are asking us to express our views." The Duke closed his eyes tiredly. "When you take over my position, you will know. Open the city gate and invite our honorable Prince Regen and Princess Elena into the city."

When Princess Elena Targaryen walked into the great hall of Storm's End, even the flames in the fireplace seemed to grow brighter. Although the princess was no longer the beautiful young girl she once was, she was still as bright as the sun.

She was wearing light armor woven with silver threads, her purple eyes were smiling, and her steps were as graceful as dancing. "My Lord Duke," her voice was as sweet as honey, "I bring greetings from my husband, brother, and nephew - and a generous gift."

The servant presented a jeweled box containing a parchment - which permanently assigned nine castles in the conquered territories that originally belonged to the Bol family to the Baratheon family - Duke Bol thought he had kept it secret, but in fact everyone knew who was behind the chaos in the conquered territories.

"As long as you hand over Quentin Bol's envoy," Elena smiled, "and send troops to help quell the rebellion."

Lord Baratheon tapped his fingers on the armrest of the stone chair, his eyes dark. At this moment, the stained glass windows of the hall were suddenly shrouded in shadows - the golden king's huge wings covered the sky, and the dragon's eyes looked down at everyone through the glass like burning amber.

Leonor could even feel the sulfur heat coming from the golden dragon.

Rhaegon Varese did not dismount. He just hovered over the castle, his black steel armor gleaming coldly on the dragon's back, and the Valyrian steel sword "Eclipse" borrowed from the armory was slung across his waist.

Silent threats are more powerful than any words.

"My husband seems to hope that the Duke will consider it carefully." Princess Elena's voice seemed to have a magical power, making the Duke of Bucks and his heir tremble.

Leonor, the Duke of the Stag, who later became famous throughout the continent as the "Laughing Storm", would never forget that day.

His father stayed in his study until dawn, and finally smashed his cherished stag horn cup. "We have no choice," Lord Baratheon said wearily, "either obey or watch Storm's End burn to ashes - even if either way, Baratheon will be stained with indelible shame."

It was not until many years later that Leonor understood what his father meant by shame.
As Quentyn Pole's emissary, a Volantis sellsword with tattoos all over his face, was dragged out of the dungeon in chains and dumped in the courtyard of the great tower of Storm's End, the man was still laughing madly: "Lord Daemon will burn you all! The true dragon will return!"

But when he saw the Golden King's huge eyes that were like molten gold.

He made the towers of Storm's End stink of urine.

Regen simply waved his hand coldly, and the Golden King's dragon flame instantly engulfed the messenger. The smell of burning filled the courtyard, and Leonor's stomach twitched.

“When the sun is high in the sky,” Princess Elona said gently, “we hope to see the Baratheon host ready to march.”

As she left, her silver cloak swept across the back of Leonor's hand, feeling as cold as a venomous snake.

For a long time after his father led the Stormland Army to join the Royal Army, Leonor did not dare to close his eyes.

Whenever he closed his eyes, he would see the eyes of the Golden King. They were not the eyes of a wild beast, but the calm assessment of a predator sizing up its prey. Even more terrifying was the female dragon in the sunlight. Its hovering posture was so graceful that it was creepy, as if it would swoop down at any time and slowly roast people with gentle flames. The rebels in the west had met their end.

The walls of Tarbeck Hall melted like candles in the dragon's flames.

Maegon Targaryen stood on the dragon's back, the purple-gold scales reflecting the fire below. His expression was as cold as a stone sculpture - the gentle prince had never been so serious.

"Don't leave any one behind," he whispered.

The dragon flames of Galesos poured down, and the blazing pillars of fire lashed the fortress of House Tarbek like the whip of the gods. The stone walls collapsed in the heat, and the towers staggered and collapsed like drunkards. The rebels in the city screamed and fled in all directions, but they were blocked by the falling boulders and flowing lava.

On the highest tower of the castle, Lord Tarbeck was driven to the edge of the terrace by the dragon's flames, his beard singed and his gorgeous blue and white cloak with a seven-pointed star emblem billowing with black smoke.

"Surrender. I. Am willing to surrender." He raised his head and roared, but he couldn't even make a sound, and his voice was drowned out by the sound of the explosion.

Maegon did not answer. Garethos's second wave of dragon flames accurately enveloped Count Tarbeck, burning him into a charred statue, his posture still maintaining his final plea.

The dragon has been sleeping for too many years. It is necessary to make these ambitious people who have forgotten the taste of dragon flame remember the taste of dragon flame again.

Elsewhere, the rocks of Castamere grew scarlet in the dragon's flames.

Garin sat on the back of the White Queen, his silver-white dragon scales like flowing mercury in the firelight. His eyes were even colder than Maegon's - that was the hatred that was unique to bastards, accumulated after being despised for many years - and it was also the anger that he had been appreciated and cultivated by Vareses, and had a better way out, but because of the ambitions of these bastards, his efforts were almost in vain.

"The Reyes family is in the bunker," he whispered, "hiding like rats. Without the head of the family and the warriors who went to conquer the land, they have become little rats who can only speculate."

The White Queen's dragon flame was not as violent as that of Galesos, but it seeped into every crevice of the castle like a trickle. The flame flowed along the stairs, spread along the corridor, and slowly spread to all parts of this huge underground castle, burning out the Reyes people hiding in the secret room one by one.

After burning down Tarbeck Hall, Prince Maegon looked with satisfaction at the bunker where thick smoke was coming out of all the ventilation holes.

Forgiveness is Darren's business, their duty is repression and revenge.

As the last Reyes stumbled to the underground water reservoir to escape the dragon's flames, Damon Lannister's golden army surrounded the castle. The Grey Lion himself rode on his armored steed, a terrifying gleam in his eye.

"The proverb of the people is more applicable to us at this time," he said in a low voice, but it made all the rebels freeze in their places, "A Lannister must pay his debts."

Following his gesture, the soldiers dug up the riverbank near Castamere. The muddy river water rushed into the castle's underground like a giant python, quickly flooding the bunkers, secret passages, and treasure rooms that the Reyes family had operated for generations.

"Please do it, Lord Garin, His Highness Maegon," Damon nodded to the dragon rider in the air, "cook them."

Garethos and the White Queen simultaneously spit out dragon flames. The blazing flames intertwined and poured into the flood, and the entire basement of the castle instantly became a boiling cauldron. Steam gushed out from every crack, accompanied by inhuman screams coming from underground.

Damon Lannister listened quietly until the shouting stopped, his golden lion cloak fluttering in the hot wind, like the roar of a lion.

From then on, a ballad called "The Feast of Castamere" spread throughout the Seven Kingdoms, and the rebels in the West were completely silenced.

(End of this chapter)