Chapter 53: The Dragon's Legacy and the March to the Capital
The final weeks of preparation for the conquest of Mogho County were a whirlwind of relentless drilling and strategic refinement. Maegor, now a father, felt a new, profound sense of purpose. His son, Prince Vaegon Velysarion, was a constant, quiet reminder of the dynasty he was building. Maegor had taken one of the dragon eggs from Illyrio's cache – the pale blue one streaked with bronze – and placed it in Vaegon's cradle, hoping the innate connection to Targaryen blood, even through the Velysarion line, would awaken it. The egg remained inert, but its presence was a powerful symbol.
Just as Prince Vaegon was born, the System had chimed, recognizing the momentous event.
[ System Notification: First Child Born! ]
Reward Granted:
3 Rare Game of Chance Cards
Maegor had played them immediately, his focus on strengthening his commanders.
The first Rare card: Mount (Uncommon). A powerful, black destrier, swift and strong. Maegor immediately assigned it to Lord-Commander Gareth Blackwood, a fitting steed for the commander of his main army.
The second Rare card: Shield (Uncommon). A sturdy, reinforced shield, lighter and more durable than standard. This was given to Commander Brundo, a practical upgrade for the leader of his spear-and-shield infantry.
The third Rare card: Crossbow (Epic). A masterfully crafted crossbow, with exceptional range and piercing power. This was a weapon for precision and impact. Maegor presented it to Lord-Commander Barristan Selmy. "For those moments, Lord-Commander," Maegor had said, "when even your sword arm requires a longer reach." Barristan, a master of all weapons, accepted it with a rare, appreciative nod.
The four-month mark was upon them. The army was ready. The training had been brutal, relentless, but effective. Lord-Commander Gareth Blackwood had forged the disparate Myrosh forces into a cohesive fighting machine. The Myrosh Light Cavalry under Ser Rhaegar Duskryn, the Myrosh Archers under Ser Corlys Stone, and the Myrosh Spear-and-Shield Infantry under Commander Brundo, along with the Myrosh Sword-and-Shield Infantry under Ser Laenor Waters, were now disciplined, battle-hardened units. Their numbers had swelled from the initial 1,543 to a formidable 2,000 men, thanks to continuous recruitment and integration from the conquered baronies.
The Blood Wyrms, 250 strong, under Commander Maenyx, were a silent, terrifying force, their Valyrian steel gleaming, their discipline absolute. They were the spearhead, the unbreakable hammer.
Khal Drogo's 10,000 Dothraki raiders were a living storm, their horses restless, their arakhs hungry for blood. Their integration with the Myrosh Light Cavalry, though still imperfect, had created a new dynamic, a blend of wild ferocity and disciplined maneuver.
Maegor stood at the forefront of his army, mounted on his magnificent Sand Steed, Blackfyre a dark, humming presence at his hip. Balerion, now truly immense, a terrifying shadow against the dawn sky, circled high above, his roars echoing across the plains. This was his army. This was his conquest.
He looked back at Myrosh Castle, where Ser Barristan Selmy remained with the 150 Castle Guards (50 Valyrian Swordsmen and 100 Myroshis), ensuring the heart of his domain remained secure. Lyra, with Prince Vaegon, was safe within its walls, guarded by Tymos and Jorno. Viserys, now Governor of Dilora, was left to manage his own domain, a crucial test of his newfound responsibilities, with Umbra, his small, grey dragon, a constant companion.
"To the Capital!" Maegor's voice boomed, amplified by his Commander's Presence (Uncommon) and Royal Authority (Uncommon). "To Noronos City! To the Duchy of Qehes! For the Dragon!"
The ground trembled as the vast army surged forward. The 250 Blood Wyrms led the charge, a silent, unstoppable wave of armored might. Behind them, the 200 Myrosh Light Cavalry and 10,000 Dothraki raiders spread out, their combined numbers a terrifying, overwhelming force. The 430 Myrosh Archers marched with disciplined precision, their bows ready to rain death. The 813 Myrosh Light Infantry (Spear-and-Shield and Sword-and-Shield) formed the disciplined core, their shields a solid wall.
They marched north, towards Mogho County, towards Noronos City, the capital of the Duchy of Qehes, the seat of Magister Erando Drahar.
The march was swift and brutal. Maegor, at the head of his forces, left no room for hesitation. His Conquest Aura (Epic), now fully active, vastly increased the morale and discipline of his own units, making them fight with a ferocity that bordered on fanaticism. Simultaneously, it caused a significant morale drain in any enemy forces they encountered, sowing fear and confusion before a single blade was drawn.
They first encountered resistance at the border of Mogho County, a small, fortified watchtower manned by a contingent of Magister Drahar's soldiers. Maegor did not bother with parley.
"Blood Wyrms!" Maegor roared, pointing with Blackfyre. "Shatter them!"
Commander Maenyx and his armored cavalry surged forward, an unstoppable tide of Valyrian steel. The defenders, seeing the gleaming, terrifying charge, felt their wills drain, their courage dissolving under the sheer, overwhelming presence of the Blood Wyrms and the subtle influence of Maegor's Conquest Aura. The tower garrison broke and fled before the Blood Wyrms even reached their walls, only to be cut down by the relentless Dothraki who swept in behind.
They continued their relentless advance, sweeping through the five baronies of Mogho County that comprised only villages. The Dothraki, under Khal Drogo, moved like a plague, their sheer numbers and ferocity crushing any local resistance. Maegor ensured that the pattern of submission established in Ergos was followed: those who knelt were spared, their villages brought under the Dragon's banner, their resources tallied. Those who resisted, however, faced the full wrath of the Dothraki and the cold steel of the Blood Wyrms.
The news of their advance, of the terrifying black dragon, of the unstoppable armored riders, and of the silver-haired king wielding Blackfyre, spread like wildfire. Fear preceded them, weakening the resolve of any who might have considered defiance.
Finally, after two weeks of relentless marching and swift conquest, they stood before the walls of Noronos City. The city was larger than Dilora, its walls taller, its gates thicker, and its castle, a medium-sized keep, stood defiantly at its heart. Magister Erando Drahar's banner, a golden sun on a field of blue, flew proudly from its highest tower.
Maegor halted his army a mile from the city walls. The sheer size of his host, stretching across the plains, was a terrifying sight. Balerion landed beside him, his massive form casting a long shadow. Maegor dismounted, Blackfyre humming faintly at his side.
"Magister Erando Drahar!" Maegor's voice boomed, magically amplified by his Royal Authority and Conquest Aura, carrying across the plains to the city walls. "I am Maegor Targaryen, King and Count of Ergos! You defied me! You underestimated the Dragon! Your Duchy is mine! Surrender Noronos City, or face the wrath of fire and blood!"
From the walls, a lone figure appeared, clad in rich silks, his face pale with fear, but still attempting to project defiance. Magister Erando Drahar. "You are a barbarian!" Drahar's voice, thin and reedy, carried back. "You have no right! Myr will send its armies! You will burn!"
Maegor merely smiled, a cold, predatory expression. He raised Blackfyre, pointing its dark blade at the city. "Then let Myr send its armies, Magister. They will find only ashes. You have chosen your fate."
He turned to his commanders. "Lord-Commander Blackwood, prepare the siege. Khal Drogo, encircle the city. Commander Maenyx, prepare the Blood Wyrms for a breach. Balerion, my son," he murmured, looking up at his massive dragon, "show them the true meaning of fire and blood."