Aegon carefully divided the fifty-seven dragon kin into seven squads, each placed under the command of one of the top ten warriors.
Less than a day after the Demon-Hunting Knights had finalized their tactical deployment, the vanguard of the demonic horde arrived at Bitterbridge.
At the bow of a ship stood three Awakened of the Faith of the Seven, gazing at the stone arch bridge looming closer in the distance.
The leader among them was named Murmison. Once, he had been a disciple of the Savior during Aenys's tenure as High Septon of the Crownlands. He had personally witnessed both Aenys's rise and his fall.
After the White Party seized control of the Faith, Murmison had been transformed into a dragon kin. When his master, Aenys, was slain by Emperor Aegon, grief and rage consumed him. In despair, he awakened as a monster, obsessed with gaining greater strength to avenge Aenys against the royal court.
"Ah—so this is Bitterbridge! Without crossing here, one would have to take the muddy mountain roads on either side to reach the Crownlands..." Murmison said slowly from the bow.
"Bitterbridge is even called the boundary marker of the Crownlands. The name itself was bestowed by the Emperor," another Awakened added.
Their black cloaks whipped violently in the river wind.
Murmison, a balding middle-aged man with a long scar running down his forehead, gave a low chuckle.
"But it seems quite a number of dragon kin have gathered here."
"How many?" his companion asked.
"Hmm... just a moment."
Murmison lowered his head, tapping a finger against his bald scalp. He was a master of long-range magical sensing. Closing his eyes, he focused his mind, releasing his spiritual power to probe the area around Bitterbridge.
After a short while, he raised his head.
"Only ten low-tier Demon-Hunting Knights."
Aegon, however, had prepared his ambush well.
He and the other high-ranking dragon kin had already consumed a drug developed by the New Citadel that concealed magical energy. Ordinary sensing techniques would never detect the Demon-Hunting Knights lying in wait.
The ten low-tier knights visible outside were nothing more than bait.
"Well then, it's rare to stumble across demon hunters. Let's go pay them a visit," Murmison said with a savage grin.
A grotesque series of cracks sounded—"crack, crack, crack." His body began to swell and expand, shooting past two meters in height. Black cords of muscle, thick like tree roots, coiled tightly across his body, reshaping him into a hulking humanoid mass of writhing roots and tendrils.
"Septon Murmison! We're here under Archsepton Wat's orders for reconnaissance!" another Awakened hastily reminded him, urging restraint.
But Murmison was already lost to vengeance and bloodlust. He cared nothing for his commander's instructions. All he wanted was slaughter—to tear apart humans and feast upon their sweet innards.
With a powerful leap, Murmison soared from the ship and landed heavily on Bitterbridge. His root-like tendrils lashed out like crazed serpents, stabbing in all directions.
The ten Demon-Hunting Knights lying in wait beneath the bridge were caught completely off guard, forced into a desperate defense.
"Damn it! The Awakened found us!" a low-ranked knight shouted in panic.
Meanwhile, Aegon and the others remained hidden within the nearby stronghold of House Centaur. Calm and unhurried, Aegon lifted a heavy siege crossbow, carefully loaded a bolt, and leveled its aim at the Awakened on the bridge.
On Bitterbridge, the ten low-tier knights struggled under Murmison's ferocious assault, while his two companions also awakened into monstrous forms and joined the fight.
Just as the knights felt despair closing in, deadly bolts whistled out from the earthen fort nearby.
The first struck the throat of an armored lizard-beast with pinpoint precision. A volley followed in rapid succession, raining down like arrows in a storm, and the creature collapsed, dead on the spot.
The crossbow fire did not cease. Next, bolts targeted a mosquito-like monster hovering in the air, its body bristling with more than a dozen razor claws.
Aegon fired steadily, each shot deliberate. His intent was not immediate victory but deception—to create the illusion that Bitterbridge's defense consisted only of ordinary mortal troops and a handful of low-tier Demon-Hunting Knights.
Only then would the horde be lured fully into the trap, setting the stage for the Knights to strike down the Awakened leaders.
Awakened had a weakness: before fully transforming into their monstrous forms, their humanoid bodies were no stronger than in life. If they were careless enough to attack in human shape, the dozens of high-ranking Demon-Hunting Knights lying in ambush would seize the moment to secure victory.
Under the hail of bolts, the mosquito monster was soon riddled like a hedgehog, tumbling helplessly to the ground. The ten low-tier knights rushed in, hacking it apart until it lay still.
Aegon then shifted his aim toward Murmison, the root monster.
This time, he avoided vital points. Instead, he targeted the limbs and outer body, intending to wound and cripple Murmison—to force him into retreat.
Sure enough, seeing the situation turn against him, Murmison knew that if he lingered any longer, he would meet the same fate as his two companions.
Helpless, he leapt from the stone arch bridge and plunged into the river, fleeing beneath the water.
Only then did the ten low-ranking Demon-Hunting Knights on Bitterbridge breathe a sigh of relief.
But their hearts remained heavy.
After all, being ordered by Aegon to serve as bait was a near-certain death sentence. Who could possibly feel glad about such a task?
Yet Aegon had made them a promise: no matter what methods were used in the battle, so long as they helped the Dragon Prince execute the ambush, all ten would be ennobled as earls of the realm.
Within the Targaryen peerage system, the hierarchy ran duke, earl, marquis, viscount, and baron. To be made an earl was to stand firmly among the upper nobility of the dynasty—a prize countless men dreamed of but could never attain in their lifetimes.
Even though the fiefs promised by the Dragon Prince lay across the sea in Essos, the offer was still enough to make them risk everything.
To refuse his command was to risk facing his sword instead. They chose to obey.
Now, every Demon-Hunting Knight carefully tended to his weapons and armor. Each of them knew full well that the true, life-or-death battle was yet to come. The advance scouts had already revealed themselves—meaning the demon host could not be far away.
Aegon gripped Dark Sister tightly, his gaze fixed on the misty Mander, waiting in silence for the enemy to take the bait.
...
Half an hour later, the enemy finally appeared.
Grotesque demons raced along the riverbanks, while several warboats drifted down the river's center. On their decks stood more than a dozen human-shaped Septons.
Among them was Murmison, the one who had escaped earlier.
At the sight of the horde's arrival, the ten Demon-Hunting Knights on Bitterbridge began withdrawing slowly toward the earthen fortress, exactly as planned.
During the retreat, several flying demons swooped down to strike, but were driven back by volleys of crossbow bolts fired from the fortress walls.
From the warboats, the Awakened led hundreds of demons, surging forward like a roaring tide toward the fortress.
In their minds, the scent of human flesh wafting from within the stronghold was irresistible. Saliva and hunger filled both Awakened and demon alike.
Aegon raised his hand in signal. The squad leaders hidden in ambush nodded in unison—they were ready to strike.
This wave of attackers included eight Awakened. Three had fully transformed into monstrous forms, while the other five charged in human guise toward the fortress.
As the demons and Awakened neared the earthen walls and began to climb, Aegon burst forth like lightning.
Dark Sister flashed with cold light, and in an instant, the head of one monstrous Awakened was severed clean from its shoulders.
The other dragon kin hunters roared in unison, rushing forth like tigers loosed from a cage, cutting into the demon ranks.
Purple demon blood splattered across the earthen walls.
Aegon unleashed the Phantom Sword technique, his afterimages flickering faintly across the walls. With its mobility, he moved like a wraith through the horde, striking down only the fully transformed demons.
Each swing claimed a life.
Meanwhile, the other high-ranking dragon kin focused their strength on the Awakened who had not yet transformed, their ferocious strikes sharp enough to inflict grievous wounds or kill outright.
The first wave of the ambush was a resounding success. The Demon-Hunting Knights reaped heavy casualties among their foes.
But soon, the battle devolved into a brutal war of attrition, testing endurance and will.
The sheer numbers were staggering. Aegon could already see at least two hundred demons swarming the battlefield, with more rushing in from the distance.
He unleashed the Swift Sword at full power, his body becoming a black storm.
Any demon that drew near was shredded into bloody fragments, a mist of gore hanging in the air.
Whenever a section of the wall faltered, Aegon was there in an instant—darting like black lightning to hold the line.
Beyond Bitterbridge lay the Crownlands, the lands he had fought to build. He would never allow them to be ravaged by demons.
The battle raged on.
As time dragged forward, lower-ranked dragon kin, unable to withstand the slaughter, were forced to awaken themselves—turning into monsters, and thus enemies of their own comrades.
Even so, not a single dragon kin fled.
On one hand, Aegon's rich promises of fiefs dangled before them like bait, driving them to fight to the death.
On the other, his stance toward deserters was merciless. Any who dared flee the battlefield would be executed on the spot, without hesitation, without exception.
On the battlefield, none dared challenge the Valyrian steel sword in the Dragon Prince's hand, its blade gleaming with a cold, merciless light.
Aegon's power was overwhelming among all dragon kin. To him, even hordes of demons were nothing more than livestock to be slaughtered at will.
The brutal clash raged for nearly half an hour.
By the time Aegon had slain hundreds of demons, nearly half of his own magical energy was spent. On the side of the Demon-Hunting Knights, barely a dozen dragon kin survived. The rest had either been forced into Awakening and turned against their comrades, or had perished in the blood-soaked maws of the demons.
The most dangerous foe in the battle was the leader of the Awakened, "The Woodcutter" Wat.
He wielded a terrifying power: the ability to interfere with the magical energy of others.
The effect was devastating—any dragon kin who faced him in close combat would involuntarily awaken. It was likely through this ability that Wat had gathered so many Awakened under his banner. Most probably, he had used this interference to force the dragon kin of the Faith of the Seven into unwilling Awakening, leaving them no choice but to join his ranks.
But when Aegon used the power of Burning Steel to refine this very ability, the battle turned.
Not only could he disrupt his enemies, he could even manipulate demons and Awakened through this interference—forcing lesser ones into chaos, driving them to turn on each other.
Aegon named this new, enhanced ability [Demonic Energy Synchronization].
At the Battle of Bitterbridge, Aegon led the Demon-Hunting Knights to a decisive ambush, halting the northward advance of the demon host.
But at the great battle of Harrenhal, Maegor met with setbacks.
...
After the Battle Beneath the God's Eye, Young Aegon fled west to the Westerlands.
When he heard in Casterly Rock that Maegor had burned the Starry Sept, he rejoiced.
He immediately sent letters across the Seven Kingdoms, openly denouncing his uncle Maegor as a tyrant and usurper, and calling upon all righteous men to rally to his claim to the throne.
During her flight, Rhaena learned that Aegon was in Casterly Rock. Mounting Dreamfyre, she flew west to reunite with her lover.
After their reunion, Aegon not only acknowledged his two bastard daughters, Aerea and Rhaella, but also declared Aerea his first heir.
This won Rhaena's heart—and secured for Aegon the strength of two dragons:
—Dreamfyre and Balerion.
Yet in truth, Aegon's dragon power was not as great as it seemed.
Though Aerea carried the title of Balerion's rider, she could not truly command the aged, ill-tempered King of Dragons.
Because of this, the great lords withheld their full recognition of Aegon's strength.
Still, he leveraged the connection between his daughter and Balerion to forge secret alliances with the North, the Riverlands, and the Westerlands.
As House Lannister of Casterly Rock still refused to openly declare support, Aegon instead made Pinkmaiden Castle, seat of House Piper, his base of power.
This was the way of the Targaryen realm's dukedoms: avoiding overt allegiance, but quietly sending younger sons and soldiers to swell Aegon's ranks.
Jon Piper, Lord of Pinkmaiden, had already sworn loyalty to the prince. But most believed his oath owed less to his own will than to the influence of his fiery younger sister, Melony.
Melony was a close companion of Rhaena. Since childhood, Rhaena had two companions: in her youth, Larissa Velaryon—"Swift Sword"—who later vanished mysteriously; afterward, Queen Rhaenys appointed Melony to remain at her side.
At Pinkmaiden, lords answering Aegon's call began to gather.
Most were from the Westerlands and Riverlands: Lord Tarbeck, Lord Roote, Lord Vance, Lord Charlton, Lord Frey, Lord Paege, Lord Parren, Lord Farman, and Lord Westerling, among others.
From the Vale came Lord Corbray; from the North, a bastard of Barrowton; from the Stormlands, the fourth son of the Lord of Eagle's Nest.
Five hundred men also came from Lannisport, under the banner of Ser Tyler Hill, bastard of Lyman Lannister.
The cunning Lord of Casterly Rock had thus provided secret aid to the young claimant—while avoiding deep entanglement, so that if Maegor triumphed, he could not be accused of treason.
Of note, the Piper forces were not commanded by Lord Jon or his brothers, but by his sister Melony herself.
When Aegon marched, his host numbered twenty-five thousand.
The army swept through the Riverlands and reached Harrenhal, where they made camp.
Aegon's host boasted seasoned commanders and knights of renown, yet not a single duke was willing to openly stand with him.
The root cause lay largely in Aerea's inability to truly master Balerion, which cast doubt over the reliability of Aegon's dragon power—and left the lords unwilling to commit fully to his cause.
Despite his strength and following, Aegon was called "the Uncrowned" by the people and lords of the North.
For though he claimed the throne openly, he wore no crown—the very symbol of royal authority.
...
When Maegor rode Cannibal to the Trident at the head of his land army,
Tyanna, left behind at Grassy Vale as Mistress of Whisperers, sent him a warning. Her letter revealed that the Eyrie, Winterfell, and Casterly Rock had all opened secret communications with Lady Alyssa, widow of Maegor's brother.
These powerful lords, before raising their banners for the Prince of Dragonstone, demanded concrete assurances for their futures.
For Aegon the Uncrowned, victory had become a matter of survival.
Maegor, unwilling to give his nephew any chance at triumph, ordered Lord Harroway to march from Maidenpool to intercept Aegon's host. At the same time, Lord Smallwood mustered his banners from Acorn Hall, while Ser Roderick Rykker of the Kingsguard led five thousand men west from Duskendale.
In the Reach, Lords Peake, Merryweather, and Caswell likewise raised their levies, marching north in strength to swell Maegor's army.
Aegon the Uncrowned suddenly found his host threatened on every side.
Though each enemy column was smaller than his own, together their advance was overwhelming.
At this critical moment, Lord Corbray urged him to strike quickly—smash each foe separately before they could unite.
But Aegon, stubborn to the end, refused to split his forces. After long deliberation, he resolved instead to march straight for King's Landing, hoping that such a desperate gamble might overturn the odds.
...
Not far south of the God's Eye, Ser Roderick Rykker and the Duskendale men barred Aegon's path.
From afar, Aegon saw their ranks arrayed in disciplined formation, an unbroken wall of spears braced upon the high ground.
At that same moment, scouts returned in haste with grim tidings: Lord Merryweather and Lord Caswell were racing north from the south, while Lord Smallwood and Lord Harroway pressed down from the north.
Surrounded by enemies converging from all sides, Aegon ordered a full charge, hoping to shatter Rykker's line before the flanks closed in.
Rhaena, seeing the danger, vaulted onto Dreamfyre without hesitation. She soared ahead, leading the charge against the foe.
But scarcely had she taken flight when terrified screams rose from the men below.
Soldiers pointed southward, crying out in horror:
"Cannibal is coming!"
The cold, pitiless dragon-eyes of Cannibal made Aegon's whole body tremble.
In his mind, the memory surged unbidden: his dragon Quicksilver, torn to pieces above the God's Eye. Fear crashed over him like a black tide.
Panicked, Aegon placed his last hope in his daughter, Aerea.
Yet deep down, Aerea did not truly accept this sudden new "father." She had been dragged into his camp by her mother, Rhaena, with no say of her own.
Still, with no other choice, she forced herself to mount Balerion. As she guided the Black Dread aloft, Aegon's soldiers below erupted in wild cheers.
Balerion was the mightiest of all known dragons. Surely, they believed, Maegor's Cannibal would be nothing before him.
But what happened next was a nightmare no one could have imagined.
After circling the battlefield lazily, Balerion suddenly unleashed a torrent of jet-black dragonfire—directly upon Aegon's own men.
The black flames, scorching and unquenchable, poured forth like a tidal wave, engulfing the host in fire.
The allied army disintegrated at once. Men screamed in terror, breaking ranks and fleeing in every direction. In moments, Aegon's entire force collapsed into mutiny and rout.
On Balerion's back, Aerea went pale as death.
Frantically wiping the cold sweat from her brow, she cried out in High Valyrian:
"The left! The King's Landing host is on the left, you great dumb beast! Not the right!"
Balerion roared in thunderous reply, as if he understood—but instead of turning on the enemy, he continued to rain black fire upon Aegon's right flank, where his stepfather commanded.
"It's over... I'm sorry, I didn't mean it..."
Aerea covered her mouth in horror, eyes wide with disbelief, forced to watch helplessly as her stepfather's army was annihilated under the Black Dread's merciless flames.
"Good girl... that's my good girl."
Maegor, astride Cannibal, watched the chaos unfold and laughed aloud, his voice booming with savage delight.
...
[Upto 20 chapters ahead for now]
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