The weather turned cold, and the waters of the Blackwater Rush became even more bone-chilling. It earned its name because its extremely deep riverbed made the water appear black.
Looking down from the sky, its color was as striking as the blue veins on pale skin. Jon, Warging a raven, circled above the Blackwater Rush.
At this moment, Stannis's fleet had already passed the mouth of the Blackwater Rush. It was clear that Stannis's plan was to first occupy the Blackwater Rush channel with his fleet, and then the Soldiers on the warships would swarm ashore and Breakthrough the River Gate directly.
However, compared to the massive fleet, the Blackwater Rush seemed a bit narrow. They could only enter the Blackwater Rush in single files, each file consisting of about ten to twenty warships.
The oars of these warships were like the legs of a centipede, strenuously propelling their bulky bodies.
The current at the mouth of the Blackwater Rush was swift, and their commander had ordered the sails to be furled, so they could only rely on manpower to move.
Two hundred or so warships spread out completely, stretching as far as the eye could see.
At this time, the "Royal Fleet" on the Blackwater Rush consisted of only a dozen pitiful ships, not much larger than fishing boats; the two were completely incomparable.
And yet, such a massive fleet was about to be blocked by an iron chain and incinerated by wildfire.
Jon, controlling the raven for reconnaissance, looked towards the winch tower at the river mouth. He knew that once most of Stannis's fleet entered the channel, the river-blocking iron chain would rise, cutting off their retreat.
And what they used to raise the river-blocking iron chain were the 'winch towers' that had just been built on both banks of the river mouth not long ago.
The black winch tower looked about two or three stories high, with a base the size of a small house. The upper part had a huge wooden wheel, around which was coiled a thick, pitch-black iron chain, the thickness of a human leg.
Jon, controlling the raven, landed on the winch tower when no one was paying attention. Sure enough, he saw a group of Lannister Soldiers hidden in the grass. This position was just right to hear their whispers.
"...fifteen, twenty-five—eighty-three—"
"The Devotion, the Swordfish, the Laughing King. The Harrion, the Sea Demon, the Trident—the Jester, the Sea Fish, the Pious, the Prayer, the Sovereignty, the Red Raven, the Valiant, the Dragonbane, the Black Betha, the Cat, the Sea Spirit, the Valyrian, the fury!"
The Soldiers ambushed in the grass whispered. Those who could count kept counting, as if calculating their death countdown.
Those who could not only count but also were knowledgeable recited the names of these imposing warships one by one, as if pronouncing their own sentences.
At this moment, Jon heard an impatient voice: "Enough! Stop your damn mumbling. Is knowing a lot of ships a big deal? Showing off?" The person speaking and scolding was Bronn. He plucked a wild grass in front of him, as if it bothered his eyes, but when he looked at the fleet, even his breathing became difficult.
The question that had lingered in his mind for a long time resurfaced:
Could wildfire really stop this fleet?
Bronn had seen those wildfire stored in jars with his own eyes.
But a single jar was only a foot high, and a hundred jars could be carried by a small merchant ship. Compared to the fleet before him, it was a small toy.
For such a small toy to take down such a behemoth, he was not optimistic about it from the bottom of his heart.
But now, this mercenary had 'all-in' his entire fortune on Tyrion and Lannister. From now on, whether he would 'go to sea' and continue to live by the sword, or enjoy young models in clubs and revel in the brothel in Pattaya, depended on today.
He turned to the Soldiers behind him and said, "After all of Stannis's ships are in the river, you pull hard for me! The same effort you put in on a woman's bed, you'll have to put in double the strength later! Do you understand?!"
"Y-yes, sir!"
"Yes, My Lord."
"Yes, sir."
The Soldiers' replies were somewhat weak.
Many of them were mercenaries Tyrion had temporarily recruited from King's Landing, all of whom had been promised great rewards to fight to the death.
As a fellow mercenary, Bronn knew that if the battle went badly, it was best not to expect anything from these people. He looked towards the River Gate; that was the key.
Ultimately, no matter how hard he tried, he still had to help Tyrion defend the city gate. Even if their position was overrun by Stannis's army, if the city gate held, wealth and glory would still be theirs.
Just as Bronn was worrying about the strength of the city gate's defenses, Jon also had the raven fly towards the River Gate where Tyrion was located.
The River Gate, as its name suggests, was the city gate directly facing the Blackwater Rush. Since Stannis's fleet was coming from the Blackwater Rush, this would be where the fighting was most intense.
Jon saw Tyrion on the city wall, boosting morale. Behind him were two fully armed knights guarding his safety, one of whom was wearing a white cloak, presumably a Kingsguard.
Because of his short stature, Tyrion specifically stood on a platform made of stacked wooden boxes, but the Soldiers listening to his encouragement had a comical feeling, like watching a dwarf play.
Due to his stature, even if Tyrion wore a fine suit of armor, it still felt like mere paper props.
"The fifty thousand strong army of the Westerlands and the hundred thousand strong army of Tyrell will arrive soon. All we have to do is hold! As long as we hold King's Landing, I will give each of you ten more gold Dragons! Kill one Stannis Soldier, and I will reward him with a hundred gold Dragons!"
Tyrion announced loudly, even somewhat recklessly. Although his rewards were very tempting, the Soldiers still reacted indifferently. There was no way around it; the disparity in strength was simply too great.
The endless fleet on the Blackwater Rush made everyone feel uneasy, and even looking at it for too long made them feel breathless. Because the light on the city wall was brighter, and the weather was turning cold, Jon seemed to be able to see the hot air rising as Tyrion spoke. At this moment, a Soldier asked, "My Lord, I heard that Ser Clegane was killed by Lord Eddard's bastard. Is that true?"
Tyrion's face darkened. He thought, where did this guy come from to mess things up for him?
However, he still said with a normal expression, "This Soldier, I don't know what you are talking about. Isn't Ser Clegane right over there?"
Tyrion drew his dagger and pointed to where Sandor Clegane, the younger brother of Gregor, the Mountain, was stationed.
"My Lord, I'm talking about Ser Gregor, the Mountain!" The Soldier persisted. Tyrion gripped the hilt of his sword and flatly denied, "Nonsense! Eddard's son is only a teenager, a teenager whose urine is still green. Do you think that's possible?"
Tyrion knew he was talking nonsense, but facing these ill-informed Soldiers, he still managed to fool many of them.
On an inconspicuous flagpole, Jon watched with cold eyes. As the saying goes, a person's name casts a shadow, and Jon thought that when the siege began, he might be able to make good use of this 'advantage' of his.
Tyrion, of course, knew about Jon slaying the Mountain. This matter had already spread throughout the Riverlands.
Jon was almost regarded as a savior and hero by those Riverlands nobles and commoners. Although he hadn't confirmed it with Tywin, it was most likely true.
If it were anyone else, Tyrion might not believe it, but precisely because it was Jon, he had no choice but to believe it.
At this moment, Jon saw Tyrion speak again: "Gentlemen, the only thing I can be sure of is that this battle will be victorious, because—look!"
As he spoke, he pointed to a yellow banner with a crowned stag not far away, beneath which a tall young man sat upright.
"Our King, Joffrey Baratheon, is with us. Long live Joffrey!"
Assured that the King was also fighting with them, the Soldiers mustered some courage.
"Long live King Joffrey!"
"Long live King Joffrey!"
"Long live King Joffrey!"
The city wall, which had been somewhat subdued by the pressure of the massive fleet, now seemed to regain some fervor.
No matter the era, a head of state leading from the front can greatly boost morale, especially since Joffrey's physique even surpassed that of an average adult.
But what they didn't know was that Joffrey was stiff all over at this moment, unable to hear what those people were saying.
Tyrion told him that he didn't need to fight anyone, only to sit there, 'displayed' there like a statue.
But even with so many Soldiers surrounding him and the tall city walls protecting him, Joffrey still felt no sense of security.
He wanted to go back, back to the Red Keep, back to his mother Cersei's side.
The raven on the flagpole took a deep look at Joffrey. This was a golden-haired, handsome boy, but his green eyes trembled uncontrollably.
Although Jon had no hatred for him, from a political standpoint, he had to kill him.
Now Myrcella and Tommen were both in his hands. As long as Joffrey was killed, the Alliance between Lannister and Tyrell would collapse without a fight.
He estimated that it would be at least two hours before the battle began, so he withdrew his consciousness from the raven's body and returned to the army north of King's Landing.
Jon opened his eyes again, only to see two people beside him: one was Thoros, who always stayed by his side to take care of him, and the other was Dondarrion.
Dondarrion, seeing Jon awake, was filled with surprise and admiration.
"Thoros just told me you were sleeping. I truly can't believe you could sleep in this situation."
Jon knew he was misunderstood, but he accepted it calmly. He deliberately stretched and said, "With a great battle imminent, if even I, the commander, am restless, then what of the common Soldiers?"
Listening to Jon's explanation, Dondarrion was somewhat speechless. If it were anyone else, the Lightning Lord would certainly feel uneasy.
But Jon was different.
He had turned the tide in the Battle of the Green Fork and had also devised a plan to take down Tywin's elite troops.
Such a person was already on a different level from others.
On the contrary, just as he said, Jon's casual sleeping posture actually made him feel at ease.
Dondarrion took a deep breath, relaxed, and asked, "The army is still resting. I have already sent out scouts to conceal our tracks. When do you plan to begin the siege? Also, where should we focus our main attack?"
"No later than two hours from now, the Old Gate."
Jon gave him a brief answer, then added, "Thoros, call the others over. We'll have a war council."
"Hmm! All right."
Thoros tidied his clothes and quickly left. About ten minutes later, Jon was surrounded by people.
Dondarrion, Thoros, Harrion, Harken, Tormien, Martin, Mund, and a host of clan and tribal warrior leaders. Jon felt a surge of emotion, remembering how he was just a small fry standing beside Robb during the first meeting in the North. Now, he was the 'Commander-in-Chief' leading the entire army. However, with a great battle imminent, he knew there wasn't much time for emotional indulgence. These commanders needed to return to their positions as quickly as possible.
There was no pre-battle discussion. Jon directly stated his battle plan:
"When we attack the city, we will use heavy armored elites as the vanguard to capture the city gate in the shortest possible time. Then, we will split into two paths and quickly seize the adjacent city gates. Harken, Mund, Ser Thoros, after the city gate is taken, you will be responsible for clearing the enemy's defensive lines broken by the heavy armored troops."
"Understood."
"Ser Dondarrion, I will entrust the rest of the army to you. You must be responsible for solidifying our defensive lines!"
"Hmm." Dondarrion nodded and asked, "Then who will lead the army to attack the city first?"
Dondarrion looked at Jon, though he already had the answer in his heart.
And Jon's answer confirmed his guess. Jon, with the Mountain's greatsword on his back, stood up and turned to look at the tall and majestic walls of King's Landing:
"I will be the vanguard!"
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