Game of Thrones: The Bronze and Fire Lord.

Chapter 314 Bloodshed, Dragon's Roar

If the newlyweds were already exchanging barbs, the nobles of the seven kingdoms and Dorne below were even more so.

Kingsguard Cole stood in the hall, performing his duty of maintaining order.

Geralt walked over and sneered, "Glorious White Knight, are you so agile that you often outnumber your opponents?"

In the last time, in the corridor of the council hall, he was defeated by Cole and another Kingsguard.

Cole caught the sarcasm in his tone, glanced at the man's back, and said, "Where's your sword? Is it really as the prince says, that you feel unworthy of that ancestral greatsword 'Dawn'?"

As a seasoned practitioner of Yin-Yang techniques, he directly unleashed his ultimate skill at point-blank range.

Geralt's expression changed, he was furious. He took a breath to suppress his anger and sneered, "I heard you used to be the princess's personal guard, but now you're serving the queen. Is it because you're too sharp-tongued?"

Cole turned his head away, ignoring him.

Geralt scrutinized him, his gaze piercing his very soul: "You respect the Regent so much, but once Rhaenyra ascends the Iron Throne, will she still allow you to serve as the White Knight?"

Cole's expression turned cold, and he clenched his fists tightly.

"Congratulations, Your Majesty. From this day forward, we are in-laws and the strongest allies."

Kollen raised his glass in a toast.

Viserys, much calmer now, raised his glass in return: "Congratulations! May the Iron Throne and Dorne stand together in harmony, and may peace prevail forever."

"Thump thump thump—!!"

The drumbeats stop at their most intense point, then the music transitions to a duet with the violin, masking the danger of the banquet with cheerful music.

Eamon held Renilla's soft little hand as he watched the children dart about in the crowd.

It has to be said that Jaeharis seems to have inherited Aemon's personal charm, making almost everyone around him like him.

At that moment, Jaehaerys, along with Gaimon and Daeron, was playing with a group of Dornish noble children.

The children of Dorne all had black hair and yellow skin; they had never seen a handsome boy with silver hair and purple eyes before, and they were instantly captivated.

Eamon treated him differently, noting that the little guy was three-tenths as good as he was when he was a child.

Just as he was about to boast to Renilla, a terrified scream suddenly rang out in the hall.

"what--!!"

Viserys, who was drinking, was taken aback. He didn't swallow half a mouthful of wine and got up to observe the situation.

"ah!!!!"

The crowd parted to form a circle, and Geralt, his eyes bloodshot, straddled Cole, wildly punching his face.

Blood spurted wildly, every punch landing with a visceral impact.

Soon, Cole seized the opportunity, grabbed the opponent's wrist, flipped him over and pinned him down, then began to swing his fists left and right.

"Damn Dornish, as lowly as your master!!"

Cole's face was full of sarcasm as he unleashed his insults without restraint.

Just now, the two finally managed to start arguing.

Geralt mocks Cole, saying he is the Queen's lackey and unworthy of the white robes behind him.

The white robe was the only thing Cole truly cherished.

Cole turned to look at Elaine, who was clinging to Eamon, and said that her former lover and current master was like a horny slut, utterly shameless.

For a simp, insulting his sweetheart is worse than killing him.

"The seven levels of hell! What on earth happened?"

Viserys was furious and walked around to the side from his seat.

Coullen was also shocked; if it weren't for the wheelchair, he would have jumped up.

Where is Alexandra?

He suddenly realized that his daughter had disappeared in the chaotic crowd.

The other end.

Imond and Alexandra were separated by the crowd and, because they were too short, hid on the sides of the dining table.

"A fight started?"

Imond was excited and wondered if he could find an excuse to break off the engagement.

Alexandra was more direct, grabbing a knife from the table and searching for her fiancé in the crowd.

"stop!!"

Viserys tries to stop the chaos, but the brawl between Cole and Geralt tears apart the false peace between the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms and the nobles of Dorne.

It is unclear which noble party made the first move, picking up a vase and smashing it at the other party.

In an instant, the scene turned into a chaotic brawl, with both men and women joining in.

"Die, you Dornish bastard!!"

"You coward from the storm land, get back into the woman's crotch..."

A barrage of vulgar and offensive insults erupted, containing a vocabulary even more vulgar than that of the lowest brothel, a den of fleas.

"found it."

Alexandra locked onto her onlooker fiancé, her petite frame straining as she squeezed closer to her target.

Soon, the two were less than a few meters apart.

"Where are you going, little girl?"

Suddenly, a large hand pressed down on her head, and the next second she was hoisted onto a broad shoulder.

"Let me go, ah!!"

Alexandra screamed.

Snapped!
Amon slapped the little girl's bottom, snatched the knife that was stabbing wildly, and scolded, "Behave yourself, or I'll get rough with you."

Alexandra was in excruciating pain from the beating; her face turned from flushed to deathly pale, and her shoulders twitched with pain.

No need to look, it's definitely swollen.

"I'll leave it to you; I'll go check out what's going on."

Eamon brought the men to his uncle and Coollen, his tall, six-foot-five-inch frame giving him an advantage as he pushed aside the shorter men who were barely chin-high.

"Ah! I'm going to kill you!"

Geralt was at a disadvantage, but he was still fighting desperately with Cole.

Cole was a bad person, but his martial arts skills were undeniable. After using various methods to suppress him, his fists, as big as sandbags, rained down on him.

On the way, in a hall where hundreds of nobles had gathered, the nobles of the seven kingdoms and the nobles of Dorne were also engaged in a fierce battle.

Plates, cutlery, vases, and even wooden tables and chairs became the tools at both sides' disposal.

Aemon went straight to Cole and Geralt to deal with the culprit first.

boom!
Grabbing Cole's white robe, and with a look of astonishment on his face, punching him hard in the left eye socket.

Cole's eyes rolled back, and his body fell straight down.

"I'll kill you!!!"

Geralt, his head and face covered in blood, frantically got up and lunged at Cole.

Immon grabbed his shoulder, raised his knee and delivered a powerful blow, and as the man vomited bile, he delivered an uppercut straight to his chin.

Geralt groaned in pain, gradually losing consciousness and falling into a coma in the Nightmare Corridor.

"Two good-for-nothings."

Aemon clapped his hands, clearly disgusted by the bloodstains.

"Imperial Guards, stop them!"

Viserys paced anxiously up there, his face turning pale and then purple, and his breathing becoming increasingly labored.

"Your Majesty, please don't get agitated, and take care of your health."

Seeing that things were not going well, the ministers quickly surrounded the king.

This made Viserys, who was already having difficulty breathing, feel even worse. Despite his discomfort, he urged his guards to start the melee.

Swish!
Suddenly, a blinding white light flashed by, illuminating the dimly lit hall, which was deliberately designed to create an ambiguous atmosphere with only a few candles for lighting.

"what……!!"

The noble lords screamed in pain, covering their stinging, tearful eyes.

"Stop it all!"

Aemon stood on a table, withdrew his raised right hand, drew his clan sword "Lament," and planted it on the table. He had just used "Illumination," a spell he had learned from those unfortunate fire sorcerers.

A minor spell to dispel darkness became a "Great Light Spell" in his hands.

Pain can drive you crazy, and pain can also calm you down.

Upon experiencing the excruciating pain that felt like being blinded, the noble lords fell silent, and the chaotic hall became deathly still.

Only now did Imon see the scene clearly.

In a short time, four or five nobles lay dead in pools of blood.

Aemon's expression was solemn as he discerned that there were nobles from the Seven Kingdoms as well as nobles from Dorne.

They were all ambushed in the chaos and subsequently trampled.

"It is Prince Aemon."

"'Dragon Slayer' Aemon, he also knows witchcraft..."

"..."

When the noble lords caught their breath and opened their red, tearful eyes, all they felt when they saw Imon was a heart-pounding fear.

Whether they were nobles of the Seven Kingdoms or nobles of Dorne, none were unafraid of true power.

It is an honor that Imon is powerful enough.

"Shut up, all of you!!"

With an icy expression, Aemon used the technique of binding spells to shout loudly, his voice reaching everyone's ears.

The eardrums were throbbing painfully, yet some people still secretly refused to accept it.

"What right do you have to call me that..."

Swish!
Aemon swung his sword with a backhand motion, his aim still perfect.

The cross-shaped longsword, rippled with water, pierced the man's chest in one fell swoop, pinning him to the ground amidst his blood.

"Uh uh uh……"

The Dornish nobleman who had taken advantage of the chaos had eyes wide open in horror, his mouth agape, blood gushing from his throat. Even in death, he couldn't believe that the other party dared to lay a hand on him.

"I said shut up, understand?"

Imon's eyes remained expressionless as he surveyed the remaining nobles, demonstrating his will through his actions.

He wasn't a playboy prince, but he was fiercer than the other man.

“Gurgle~~~~”

The noble lords were stunned by his murderous aura, and someone swallowed hard.

boom--

Suddenly, a whooshing sound came from above the Red Castle, and a layer of indelible dark clouds shrouded the outside of the glass windows.

"what happened?"

"what happened…"

The glass windows rattled, the ceiling shook, and panic gripped everyone.

“Hiss—”

Accompanied by a thunderous roar, the crowd seemed to see a bronze dragon, brimming with rage, spewing forth torrents of heat in mid-air.

In an instant, the hall fell silent, and everyone's mind went blank.

Any dissatisfaction is forgotten in this moment.

Aemon stepped down from the table, pulled the clan sword "Lament" from the corpse, and pointed it forward. Wherever it passed, no one dared to look up, and they instinctively made way for it.

The true dragon's bloodline has no time to explain to ants.

"Your Highness, Your Highness..."

Sir Harold arrived with two Iron Guard brothers, both of them covered in sweat, their armor and white robes disheveled.

Aemon glanced at them coldly and said, "Take them both away and lock them in the Red Keep dungeon."

Sir Harold immediately went to do it.

Immediately, Imon glanced at the noble lords present, his anger rising, and walked past without saying a word.

Although no one spoke, everyone tensed up, understanding the unspoken message.

That's enough for today.

“Imon”.

Lannar and Renilla ran over, nervously grasping his arms, their expressions filled with worry.

……

midnight.

"The love of the Seven Gods is sacred and eternal, the source of life and love. Tonight we stand here together to give thanks and praise, two souls united as one."

"..."

Inside the chapel of the Red Fort, a missionary meticulously recited the engagement vows for a newlywed couple standing before the statue of the Seven Gods.

Imond kept his head down and remained silent.

Alyssa Draco's face was streaked with tears, and she was clutching her buttocks with one hand, feeling a dull ache.

After the vows were recited, the newlyweds exchanged tokens of their affection.

Coollen watched from behind, his expression complicated, unsure how to face his vassal.

Viserys was pale and, with Alison's support, barely managed to stay upright.

"Viserys!"

Alison was startled and realized her husband had closed his eyes; she nearly collapsed to the ground.

Viserys fainted.

"Don't worry, His Majesty is just too frightened."

Grand Secretary Orville stood by, treating the king as quickly as possible, and ordered that the king be carried back to his bedchamber.

This scene ignited Imond's rebellious spirit.

He was shocked, and when he turned to look at his fiancée, his eyes shifted from disdain to deep disgust.

……

"My uncle is unwell, so I will temporarily assume the role of chairperson for the Imperial Council today and until he recovers."

Aemon remained calm as he glanced around at the ministers in the royal council.

The ministers dared not object and picked up the files to show their agreement.

The royal engagement ceremony ended in a ridiculous and dismal fashion, with four nobles being carried out of the hall.

Fortunately, it wasn't just the Targaryens who suffered a disgraceful fate.

At a time when the hatred between the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms and the nobles of Dorne reached its peak, the originally scheduled seven-day tournament and banquet were canceled and replaced by a lackluster tour of King's Landing.

With the Dornish nobles about to return, the Imperial Council will discuss the appointment of a new Prime Minister and a regent.

The former shared the nation's burdens, while the latter suppressed Dorne.

"I hereby announce that Lord Leonor will serve as the Minister of State for Sunspear, and his son, Larry Strong, will serve as the Chief of Intelligence for Sunspear. He will accompany Prince Coollen to Dorne tomorrow."

Amon's opening remarks solved half the problem.

Leonor lowered his head, already knowing the outcome.

The other ministers looked at each other, somewhat prepared.

Only Otto glanced at Leonor and silently straightened his perfectly wrinkle-free collar.

He persuaded the king to choose Leonor and banished Laris the Bendingfoot, who had remained at the Tower to assist Aegon, to Dorne to reunite with his father.

"Then who should become prime minister?"

The sea serpent remained arrogant, seeing through Otto's little tricks.

"This matter is still under consideration, Lord Corliss."

Renilla attended the royal council and was displeased with the sea serpent's arrogance.

The sea serpent, unafraid of Renilla, was about to retort.

Aemon spoke calmly: "Lord Corliss, do you think you are worthy of the position of Prime Minister?"

(End of this chapter)