"Roar!"
Giant Chestnut roared, swinging his meteor hammer, the size of a carriage, in a circular motion.
With a thud, Ormund's face shuddered as several riders within a few meters of him, their horses and men, were reduced to pulp.
Before he could recover from his shock, he heard the clattering of iron chains as the flesh-soaked meteor hammer was slowly dragged back, its spikes still dangling with rags of flesh.
The sound was piercing, the red hue so jarring.
Ormund's heart pounded, and he couldn't help but shout, "It's a giant! Run!"
Since the start of the expedition, the words he had shouted most often were "Run!" and "Retreat."
It was frustrating.
Hundreds of light cavalry, at the command, expertly followed their lord in his flight.
"No… run!"
Giant Chestnut took long strides, each leg spanning five or six meters.
The light cavalry behind him were unable to escape, reduced to a mess under the meteor hammer.
Rumble!
Lord Donald Tarly led his troops in pursuit, closing in on the fleeing light cavalry from the flank.
Seeing the ferocious giant in rune armor and Galwin's squad in the distance, he immediately ordered his men to draw their bows and arrows.
"Don't! We're one family, one family…"
Galwin raised his hands to show his friendly status.
As the saying goes, a child without a mother is a long story. So let's make it short.
Galwin was ordered by his sister Alicent to return to the Reach to look after his two nephews.
On the way, he passed by Harrenhal and was stopped by His Royal Highness. After being rewarded with wine and horses, he was appointed commander of the giant Chestnut. He had only one request: to fuck Oldtown Hightower.
Galwin refused at first.
Fortunately, His Royal Highness was best at convincing people with reason.
He said, "Either you lead the giant to help Highgarden blow up Hightower, or I ride Vermithor to help Highgarden burn down Oldtown."
It was a choice between the two.
Galwin wiped the sweat from his forehead and chose to command the giant to fight.
There was no other reason; he had simply never seen a giant and he liked it!
"Who sent you!?" Lord Tarly shouted.
"The Regent sent me," Galwin decisively brought out the greatest title of His Royal Highness.
Lord Tarly was silent.
The royal family… No, there is a difference between the Regent and the King.
All the powerful nobles in the Seven Kingdoms know that Aemon Targaryen, the "Prince of the Vale" and "Regent", is in a high position and has great power. On the grounds that the Vale cannot be left without governance for a day, he is not in King's Landing to act as regent most of the time. The ravens they sent to King's Landing were also written by the Hand of the King appointed by the King.
Indistinctly… before Princess Rhaenyra ascended the throne… the Regent and the King were two teams.
The person sent by the Regent = the person not sent by the King = his own people?
After weighing the pros and cons, Lord Tarly waved his hand to let his subordinates put down their bows and arrows, and chase after Ormund Hightower with all their strength.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The giant Chestnut was like a god descending from heaven, with a huge shield in his left hand and a meteor hammer in his right, rushing into the light cavalry as if he were in no man's land.
It is unknown how many people were killed, but it is clear how many big pits covered with meat sauce were smashed.
"Fortunately, fortunately, the Regent still has face," Galwin breathed a sigh of relief, secretly feeling lucky.
It seemed that his choice was not wrong. Assisting Highgarden to fight Oldtown, if successful, he could preserve a trace of their bloodline, and if he failed, his cousin Ormund Hightower would also understand him. Assisting Oldtown to fight Highgarden, if successful, the consequences were unknown, and if he failed, it would be equivalent to a family rebellion, and everyone would die.
I can only say sorry to my cousin.
"Charge!" Galwin drew his sword and led a dozen servants to charge at the Hightower army.
Mander River East Basin.
Along the turbulent river, wildflowers and low fruit trees grew everywhere, dressing the riverbed in emerald green.
"Hiss!"
"…"
Two dragons were entangled in the sky, roaring continuously as dragonflames splashed.
Boom—
The golden dragon was a step too slow and was bitten on the neck by the mud-brown dragon. When it was swung, its scales were broken and dragon blood splashed. Finally, it was thrown to the riverside.
"Yangyan!" Aegon wailed, then burst into tears.
Yangyan fell from a great height, and at the last second, he turned his body from leaning back to a crawling position, and slammed heavily into the flowers, splashing a rain of petals covered with mud and dragon blood.
"Hiss~~" Yangyan screamed as if crying, his slender neck collapsed weakly on the ground, and his pale pink wings moved, plowing the soil into furrows.
Except for his silver hair and blackened face, Aegon had no injuries on his body. At this moment, he was distressed and scared, and he threw himself on Yangyan's snout and cried.
Sheepstealer was panting and slowly circled in the air.
"Aegon, you waste!" Aemond had an expressionless face as he looked down at the scene below. Even though he had no expression, he couldn't hide the joy in his heart. He had wanted to teach Aegon a lesson for a long time. Today, he finally got his wish.
No longer looking at the loser combination of a man and a dragon below, Aemond took a deep breath and looked into the distance with a happy mood. Suddenly, he saw a pure white castle along the river. The castle was very large, and its appearance was somewhat similar to Highgarden. Both had circular walls protecting the beautiful castle within. However, this castle had only two walls, and the castle itself was slightly "Riverlands style," built on the banks of the Mander River, with a gate connected to the river.
"Where is that?" Aemond leaned forward, squinting his eyes as he tried to see further. A banner fluttered from the castle spire, seemingly bearing the sigil of Three Castles. "Dunstonbury of House Peake!"
Aemond's lips curled up as he recalled the book on the coats of arms of the Seven Kingdoms. House Peake had participated in the war and was an ally of Oldtown Hightower. He was worried about establishing a foothold in the Reach, struggling with the difficulty of expanding his territory. Wasn't this a ready-made castle for his dreams?
"Sheepstealer, let's go!" Aemond hurried off. A tailwind is no match for an easy route. Since they're the enemy, do not blame me for striking with the iron fist of justice.
"Shhh!" Sheepstealer growled strangely, licking the blood from his snout with his tongue, and flapping his brown wings to speed up. He had caught the sweet scent of a lamb.
At the same time. Harrenhal, Flowstone Yard.
"Prince, all is ready," Ser Simon reported, his hands folded.
The entire Strong family had evacuated Harrenhal to welcome a thousand-man Unsullied force to take over the castle's defenses.
"Thank you for your hard work," Aemon nodded gently, motioning the portly old man to step behind him. Ser Simon obediently stepped back, nodding in greeting to Grey Worm and Diana, who were in the same row. Both were elderly retainers who had served His Royal Highness, and they nodded in kind.
Up ahead, Aemon flipped his hand and pulled out two cards. A red card, "[Flame Purification]," worth 3200 Essence, and a sky-blue card, "[Incubator]," worth 800 Essence. He put away the blue card, keeping the "[Flame Purification]." Today, Harrenhal's ominousness and curse must be eradicated.
"Go," Aemon nodded his chin to his left.
Helaena, with a puzzled look in her eyes, stepped forward with Jaehaerys and the twins. Two dragons crouched before the Kingspyre Tower. Between Vermithor and another dragon, an altar was placed, on which sat the skull of Meraxes. Helaena and the three children each tugged at a corner of the red cloth covering the skull, then simultaneously ripped it away, revealing a massive skull as black as ink.
The three children, having been raised in Runestone, had seen the skull of Meraxes enshrined in the "ancestral temple" there. Helaena, not a local, had never seen it.
Aemon nodded again to Laena, who was standing to his right. He then took a step forward and cast [Flame Purification] on the cobblestones. Pop! The red card shattered, transforming into a ball of red light that sank into the soil beneath their feet.
A hum— an inexplicable sensation spread through everyone present, as invisible waves of red rippled out, covering every corner of Harrenhal. Laena, Grey Worm, and the others had never experienced anything like this before, but out of trust in Aemon, they focused their attention. It was like a warm breeze blowing away fatigue.
Crack!
The towering walls of Harrenhal suddenly cracked in several places, and then collapsed with a loud bang. The five towers—Kingspyre, Widow's Tower, Wailing Tower, Tower of Ghosts, and Tower of Dread—twisted slightly, their outer layers peeling away. The melted areas, burned by the dragonflames of Balerion the Black Dread, began to crumble into pieces. In an instant, the dilapidated buildings were reduced to bare bones.
When Aemon opened his eyes, the world seemed completely new. The soil beneath his feet was still dark, but it lacked the dead, cold feeling. The five towers remained dilapidated, but the charred black stains on their exteriors had disappeared, revealing the stone's original grayish-white base. A closer look revealed a bone or two tucked away in the cracks of the tower. From an animal, or… At the corner of a courtyard, tender green grass sprouted from the long-dark mud.
Suddenly, there was a commotion outside. "I'll go check," Ser Simon volunteered. A moment later, he returned. "Prince, there are cracks in the walls in many places, and from within have fallen…" He paused.
"I'm listening," Aemon said, prepared.
"There are bones and unknown bodies," Ser Simon said in a low voice. Harren the Black had spent nearly forty years exploiting the people of the Riverlands to build his castle. Countless laborers had perished, their bodies simply smothered in mud and plaster, becoming one with the "Blackheart's" castle.
"Gather the remains and bury them together," Aemon patted his shoulder. He had many opinions on the curse of Harrenhal. Harren the Black's House Hoare had frequently intermarried with the Andals, violating their original faith in the Drowned God. Later, he had combined the faiths of the Drowned God, the First Men, and the Seven. The House of Hoare was cursed as a bloodline "spurned by the gods." Facts proved this to be true. With the accumulation of these factors, it was natural that the feng shui was not good. Aemon had come here to improve the feng shui.
"Aemon, your letter," Laena approached, twisting her slender waist.
Aemon was intoxicated by the sight, and felt his moment of peace interrupted.
"Be serious," Laena said, and put two fingers together to pinch the soft flesh on his waist. Even with [Solid as a Rock], Aemon gritted his teeth slightly. It hurt a little.
"Ahem…" Aemon remained calm, holding the soft little hand on his waist and reading the letter carefully. It was from King's Landing, written by his Uncle Viserys. Judging from the tone, he was quite angry, questioning him about why he had disappeared again and asking him to hurry back for a meeting, instructing him to bring his eldest grandson Jaehaerys with him.
"Tsk, impatient," Aemon grinned. He had dispatched Grey Worm to lead a thousand Unsullied to garrison Harrenhal. His retainer Diana was acting as financial advisor. Jeyne had been sent back to the Vale.
"The King has commanded us to return?" Laena knew the Reach was in turmoil, and her vacation was ruined.
"If we return, I'll have to make my uncle beg me," Aemon said with a smile. That foolish Aemond has probably already taken action against Aegon. It's peach harvest time; we have to return even without being told.
"Helaena, come with me," Aemon called over the dazed Helaena, motioning to cover Meraxes's skull.
"Oh," Helaena nodded vigorously. Perhaps because he was in a good mood, Aemon seemed to like everything. Helaena's innocent oval face, the freckles on her cheeks, made her look playful.
The next day. The Small Council.
"Think of a solution!" Viserys was anxious, almost slamming his head on the table.
All the ministers looked at Aemon in unison. Aemon was calm and composed. "Why are you looking at me? I didn't pour you any wine."
"Aemon, what's your idea?" Viserys put aside his pride, patiently forcing a smile.
"He did it himself, so he has to bear it even if it breaks his teeth," Aemon said bluntly. "Aegon's affairs are not only a Targaryen family affair, but also a national affair of the kingdom. I request the convening of the Dragon Council."
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