Ice and Fire: Reign of the Dragon.

Chapter 446: Familiar People

Lord Jon Arryn of the Vale was the first to step forward, the crescent falcon emblem on his sky blue cloak rising and falling slightly with his steady steps. The Lord of the Eyrie was still a young man, but his straight back and sharp blue eyes still revealed the unique determination of the Lord of the Vale. He placed his right hand on his chest and bowed deeply to the Iron Throne.

"Your Majesty." His voice was as loud as an eagle's cry. "The Eagle's Nest has assembled 6,000 knights and 14,000 elite infantry. The Valley Navy in Seagull Town and the reserve army led by Earl Royce are all ready and can go north to fight the Ice Devil at any time."

King Reg nodded slightly, his silver-gold hair gleaming like copper in the firelight. "The Knights of the Valley are famous all over the world. With their help, our army's flanks are safe. But you are fighting against the dead and the ancient race, so... you have worked hard."

Lord Jon nodded heavily and made way.

Then, Lord Hoster Tully of the Riverlands stepped forward. The Lord of Riverrun had a reddish-brown beard, and a wolfskin cloak was firmly fixed on his shoulders with silver buckles with fish patterns. His eyes briefly swept over the princes in the hall.

"Your Majesty, Riverrun has mobilized all of its ferries and barges to ensure that the army can quickly cross the Trident. But." He paused for a moment, "Does the Freys need additional support?"

"Lord Frey is stationed at the Twins, the kingdom's first iron gate." Reg interrupted calmly, tapping his fingertips on the armrest of the throne. "The crossing of the Green Fork cannot be lost. I believe Lord Kermit will live up to your trust."

At this time, on the banks of the Green Fork, Lord Kermit Frey was standing on the battlements of the East Tower, his blue and gray family cloak fluttering in the cold wind. This young Lord Frey supported the family after the Great Plague. Although he was not very mature, his eyes were still as sharp as a hawk. Beside him, his uncle, Sir Franklin Frey, the "High Tower", was directing the soldiers to strengthen the defense of the tower.

"Archers, remember your positions!" Franklin's roar made the recruits tense up. "Dead men are not bandits! If you're a second slower, everyone will die!"

And in the shadows of the west tower, Kermit's son Walder Frey was secretly throwing bread crumbs to the ravens in the corners of the battlements.

"Eat more," he muttered, "When the dead come, you are the only messenger. Remember to find the Dragon Kings to save me quickly."

Suddenly, the horn on the city wall tore through the sky.

"Lord Tytos Lannister has arrived!"

Gold and crimson banners flooded the horizon like a tide. Thirty-five thousand westerland troops approached the Twins in a mighty force, their array so neat and their armor so shining that even the most demanding commander could not find fault with them.

However, Lord Tytos Lannister, who was walking in the front, was eye-catching. The Lord of Casterly Rock was wearing overly carved gold-plated armor, and the warhorse under his crotch even wore a ruby-studded bridle. He was reciting a self-composed "poem" loudly, completely unaware that the actual command of the army had already fallen into the hands of his son.

Fifteen-year-old Tywin Lannister rode a plain black warhorse, his cold eyes calmly scanning the defense system of the Twins. Even he had to praise that the Frey family was no longer the upstarts that were criticized after Lord Forrest Frey. Although their equipment was not as good as the regular army of the West, their military appearance was neat and their defense was tight. Even he could not find any problems.

"Father," he interrupted the Duke's poetic inspiration, "please allow me to arrange a camp for our army. The Twins cannot accommodate our army, and I need your order to allocate food and fodder."

The old lion waved his hand: "Whatever you want! By the way, remember to give my new poem a rhyming title."

Tywin turned around expressionlessly, and the army moved as smoothly as his arm.

And Duke Tytos seemed to not care about these things at all. Bronze Pass.

The hot wind rolled up the rusty sand and dust, whistling past the huge city gate. The coalition forces of Dorne and the Borderland marched like a winding python under the scorching sun. The sand hit the armor, making a fine clanging sound, as if thousands of daggers were gently rubbing on a whetstone.

Prince Oberyn Martell rode on a dark sand warhorse, his cloak with the lance and sun emblem billowing behind him. His eyes were as sharp as snakes, scanning the distant horizon. Beside him, Prince Arthur Dayne's white robe remained dust-free in the sandstorm, and the silver line of the morning star emblem flickered in the sun, like a real star falling into the earth.

"Ninety thousand people." Arthur's voice was calm: "This is the largest mobilization in recent years."

Oberyn's lips curled up into a smile, and his fingertips gently stroked the sun carving on the spear. "This time, we also want to experience the feeling of being a savior."

At the forefront of the coalition army, the golden mane cape of "Lion King" Hagen Longdel danced in the wind like a real lion's mane. His battle cry could inspire the most cowardly soldiers to fight, and at this moment, he raised his sword high and issued an order to the entire army:

"Men of the Border! Today we are not fighting for our lords, nor for gold - but for the right to live!"

He was responded with a thunderous war cry, the sound even briefly drowned out the howling of the sandstorm.

Beside him, Lord Valar Dondarrion stared at the sky.

"White Walkers are not afraid of mortals," he whispered to his lieutenant, "but they are afraid of fire... and dragons."

The sky suddenly darkened.

Six huge shadows passed over the coalition forces, and the storm created by the dragon wings even briefly blew away the dust. The Dorne soldiers looked up and held their breath.

The pale yellow dragon of Igarath was like a moving mountain, its scales glowing golden in the sun. It was the mount of Aslan Vareses. Luciris Varese rode Moon Dancer and flew behind it, its dark green wings spread out like a curtain of night. Jonil Varese's Sun Breed flew low over the Forest of Spears, its dark body seemed to be covered with lava-like lines. Maggie Varese's Morning Light was forged like silver, slender and elegant, but exuding an inviolable majesty. Daenerys Varese's Saraphas was still the most beautiful dragon, leaving its graceful figure in the air gracefully. Señor Varese's Cerelis breathed out hot breath, and the red dragon's pupils were full of fighting spirit.

"Varezes is here!" The soldiers cheered, their morale burning like fire.

Sunbow landed steadily in front of the princes. Jonniel pulled down his armor and said, "Lord Lingol handed Star Song over to Hoffa." His voice was low. "Dragon Nest City has made all preparations."

Hagen Longdel raised his eyebrows: "Hoffa? Young Master is going to the battlefield too?"

Jonniel smiled: "He was trained personally by Lord Ray and Lord Igor."

(End of this chapter)