Within the gray fog, there was not the faintest trace of wind.
The ghost fleet showed not a single oar, yet it advanced steadily toward Viserys's ships.
The two fleets were utterly incomparable in scale.
It was like a giant closing in on a dwarf.
Only then did everyone notice that corpses were hanging from the ghost fleet's masts.
As for who those corpses had once been, there was no need to guess.
The merchant captain who had been temporarily hired—though farthest from the ghost fleet—felt his guts turn green with regret.
He should have swallowed his fear and refused Viserys outright.
Under Arthur's command, wildfire was added to the braziers. The orange flames instantly turned a vivid green.
Garin's fleet was impossible to fight head-on, but there was still hope if they could rush beneath the Bridge of Dreams.
"Draw!"
At Arthur's command, arrows tipped with green flame were raised in unison, all aimed toward the bridge behind them.
Fist-sized sparks of emerald fire flickered in the air, seeming to drive back the surrounding fog itself.
At the same time, Viserys stirred the fire magic within his body, holding it at the ready.
"Loose!"
Blooms of green fire streaked through the air like burning moths, rushing toward the broken bridge.
As the arrows flew, the flames at their tips stretched longer and longer.
Driven by Viserys's fire magic, the burning sparks grew larger with every heartbeat.
By the time they struck the bridge, what had been fist-sized flames had swelled to the size of a man's head.
The arrows hit the stone men and instantly turned them into green, human-shaped torches.
Acting on instinct, the stone men plunged into the river one after another.
But water could not extinguish wildfire—especially wildfire refined by Viserys himself.
In moments, the Bridge of Dreams, spanning the Rhoyne, was engulfed in flames. Even the gray fog above was stained an eerie green by the light.
The archers marveled at the power of wildfire, unaware of how much of it came from Viserys himself.
Behind them, the ghost fleet had reacted as well, accelerating its pursuit.
With the threat on the bridge cleared, Viserys's fleet began to speed up.
If they could pass beneath the bridge, the ghost fleet would be unable to continue the chase.
They would truly have escaped death.
The distance between the two fleets had already widened to more than three hundred meters, yet Arthur remained tightly positioned in front of his king.
Just as Viserys's ship reached the space beneath the bridge, a stone man wreathed in green flame leaned out from the broken span above.
His entire body was still burning—if he fell, the whole ship could be set ablaze.
Arthur seized a spear from somewhere and, as the stone man leapt, hurled him aside with a single thrust.
The stone man's body traced an arc through the air before crashing into the water.
Viserys's ship passed safely through.
With Arthur guarding him, Viserys was spared—but the others were not so fortunate.
Two more "fire men" hidden on the bridge leapt down, landing on two separate ships.
Flying sparks quickly set the vessels alight.
A few unlucky soldiers were caught in the blaze.
If someone nearby stayed calm and tore away their clothes and armor, they might live.
If panic took hold, instinct would drive them into the water—where they would drown. Fortunately, most managed to swim to nearby ships and survived.
Viserys knew that not every operation could end like Nasar, with zero casualties.
He turned to look back at the ghost fleet—and suddenly saw the figure at the prow.
The ragged strips of cloth around him began to flutter. The man looked like a volcano on the verge of eruption.
Viserys also realized that his fleet could no longer pass the Bridge of Dreams.
They slowed to a halt.
"I told you, a man's luck is limited," the merchant captain muttered under his breath.
After seeing a fleet so ghostly and terrifying, he had already decided never to return to Chroyane again.
Once back in Volantis, he would sell his ship.
He did not even bother shouting at the sailors lying on the deck, gasping for breath. He had no intention of earning his living at sea anymore.
The captain glanced at Viserys's fleet—and froze.
They had stopped.
"Have these nobles fought so many battles that their brains are ruined?" he cursed silently. "Why aren't they running? What are they waiting for?"
He had no interest in finding out.
When Viserys's men had distributed food to the stone men earlier, the chains had already been removed.
The captain was no longer bound.
Once he realized this, he hauled his oarsmen back to their feet and urged them to row—hard.
They needed to get as far away as possible before Viserys changed his mind.
On Viserys's side, an argument had broken out.
"Your Majesty, you cannot go back! If anyone must go, let it be me!" Arthur said urgently.
"Let me go instead," Lothan offered. "I am Rhoynar. Prince Garin should not harm me."
After seeing that the ghost fleet had not yet sunk back into the river, Viserys insisted that he should go and meet Garin himself.
Their purpose was to bring the fleet from Volantis to Gohor.
They had escaped for now—but if they could not pass this place, the journey would have been for nothing.
"Both of you, calm yourselves," Viserys said.
"I believe Prince Garin can already sense my presence. Given his nature, he would only kill you and force me to appear anyway.
That would be a meaningless sacrifice. Have you forgotten?"
He showed them the turtle shell plate given to him by the Old Turtle.
"The Old Man said that with this shell, Garin would at least be willing to speak with me. That is a rule among gods, one they are willing to obey."
He turned to Arthur.
"Like our guest right. For thousands of years, no one has broken that rule, have they?"
Arthur stared at the shell in Viserys's hand and nodded, deeply unwilling. At this point, it truly was beyond his ability to intervene.
He even felt a pang of shame—his strength was not enough to carry out his king's will.
Seeing Arthur appeased, Viserys turned to Lothan.
"High Elder, stay behind and watch over the fleet. I will have Ser Arthur escort me over.
And I do have Rhoynar blood as well."
Lothan froze for a moment, then remembered that this was indeed true. "Your Majesty, please be extremely careful."
Viserys and Arthur boarded a small boat and headed back toward the Bridge of Dreams.
The air was still filled with a nauseating stench.
It was not quite the smell of burnt flesh, but even a single breath was enough to make one retch.
They said that if the stench of filth was diluted a thousand times, it would resemble roses.
This smell, even diluted ten thousand times, would still repel anyone.
As the ghost fleet drew closer, the shrouded king at its prow—Prince Garin—looked down upon Viserys and Arthur from above.
In his eyes burned the flames of vengeance.
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