The morning mist enveloped the Secret City as usual, but Braavos, normally bustling with activity, was deathly silent today.
Everyone was terrified.
What Jaqen had blurted out to Aegor aboard the Queen Daenerys had been incomplete. The Titan was not merely a landmark of Braavos, but also the city-state's most important lookout post, lighthouse, and fortress. It could release a tremendous roar to mark the hour or announce the arrival of ships, guide passing vessels at night, and serve in the city's defense. Its torso, from the waist upward, was an entire multilevel hollow metal fortress. Whether it was the chamber inside the head, where the lighthouse beacon was lit each day, or the countless window-like openings in its breastplate and armored skirt, all of them could be turned into firing positions during wartime to strike the enemy with various weapons.
After the Anti-Dragon Mother Alliance's first invasion of Dragonstone ended in failure, the Free Cities realized the enormous gap in range and power between their own firearms and those of their enemy. While learning from the defeat and redoubling their efforts to improve cannon designs and propellant mixtures, they also began considering other countermeasures and tactics. Among them, the Braavosi defenders devised a plan to mount cannons inside the Titan's body, using its height of dozens or even hundreds of meters above the water to compensate for the shortcomings in the power and range of their weapons.
The Bronze Titan's limited interior naturally could not hold enough cannons to oppose an entire fleet, but if the enemy carelessly ventured within range, the giant's sudden burst of fury, even if it failed to inflict many casualties, would certainly give them a fright... As long as it could slightly slow or restrain the enemy's advance and buy the defenders more time to prepare, any number of unforeseen possibilities could emerge.
However, Aegor had dealt the Braavosi a heavy blow.
Yesterday afternoon, when Braavos faced an enemy at its doorstep for the first time in centuries, the city had endured the steady roar of hundreds of cannons for an entire afternoon. At last, after the stone foundations beneath its legs were severely damaged, the Titan lost its balance and, beneath the terrified and panicked gazes of the entire city, crashed into the sea with a tremendous roar.
The shock caused by this "Fall of the Titan" among the local defenders and residents far exceeded the attackers' expectations. It signified that, after the fleet, the "wooden city wall" of which the Braavosi were so proud, had been overwhelmed by superior force, the atoll centered around the Bronze Titan, the city-state's second line of defense, had also been swiftly breached.
Next, the enemy would be able to advance without obstruction and attack the city itself, ground upon which no foreign enemy had ever set foot.
Just as the entire city-state was shrouded beneath a terrifying cloud of helplessness, at a critical moment when no one knew how the situation would develop or end, a legendary elder stepped forward once more. Gorden Gallonier, former head of the House of Keyholders, personally made a public appearance and began organizing the city-state's final resistance.
He first ordered two large cargo ships to be requisitioned and filled with stones overnight. They were then sailed beside the fallen Titan and scuttled beneath the gap where its legs had once stood, using their hulls to block the only passage from the open sea into the inner lagoon. Then he delivered an impassioned speech to the defenders and residents before the battle, calling for every island and every ship within the city-state to be armed in preparation for urban warfare, or more precisely, "canal warfare." Finally, setting an example himself, he donated a large portion of his family's wealth, along with unused iron and bronze objects from his estate, to the arsenal, entrusting them with casting more cannons as quickly as possible.
With this legendary figure personally holding the line, the city-state finally avoided descending into chaos and collapse on the first night of the enemy attack.
Unlike the assault on Volantis, the fleet led by Aegor did not conduct harassing bombardments during the night. A brief and silent night passed, and the proud Braavosi welcomed a new day.
...
Beside the ruins of the Titan, two scouts from the city-state's defenders used the cover of the morning mist to row a small boat toward the atoll. They carefully moored the boat, quietly climbed onto the rocks, and cautiously made their way to the top to peer outward, hoping to secretly survey the Targaryen Empire's fleet bathed in the morning light across the western sea.
"What the fuck!" Vetin, who had looked out first, suddenly cursed under his breath and quickly ducked back down.
"Shh!" Ilford, the older soldier behind him, quickly gave him a light punch, signaling him not to make unnecessary noise, before climbing to the top of the rocks himself and peering out to see what had startled his companion.
He was immediately shocked as well.
An enemy warship had appeared in front of them, no more than an arrow's flight from the Titan's ruins. It was so close that the figures moving across its deck could be seen clearly. The distance between them was almost face-to-face, so it was no wonder Vetin had been frightened into crying out.
Both men lowered their heads, pressed themselves tightly against the rocks, and silently observed the nearby warship.
The rest of the Imperial Fleet remained quietly anchored a thousand feet offshore, forming a distant backdrop. Only this single ship had approached the atoll, presumably to scout their defenses. Since there were no rowing boats visible around the warship, it appeared that no enemy soldiers had landed on the atoll, so their present position should still be safe.
Once they were certain their lives were not immediately at risk, they calmed down and watched the nearby ship's movements. It sailed past them at a leisurely pace, slowing slightly as it passed the gap in the atoll. Evidently, it had discovered that the passage had been jointly blocked by the fallen Titan and the scuttled ships, so it turned its bow back toward the fleet...
Everything seemed perfectly normal until Ilford noticed that the vessel was lowering its sails and slowing as it moved. Eventually, it came to a stop about two arrow-flights from the atoll and dropped anchor, becoming an oddly isolated forward position ahead of the entire Imperial Fleet.
What were they planning to do?
Alongside the confusion came a trace of regret. If Gorden Gallonier had not insisted on arming every island within the city-state and rejected the proposal to establish artillery positions on the atoll to ambush enemy vessels, then the ship's current position would have made it an excellent target.
"What's that?"
The young soldier muttered another quiet question, pulling Ilford from his thoughts. The older man raised his low-magnification binoculars and observed the enemy ship. He saw the sailors on deck drag out an enormous sheet of white cloth from somewhere and work together to spread it open.
Vetin's curiosity was understandable. Even the older soldier could not make sense of what the other side was doing. So the two men, sharing an unspoken understanding, lay prone atop the atoll and quietly watched the enemy's strange movements...
Before long, they witnessed something unlike anything they had ever heard of or seen in their lives. The enormous sheet of white cloth spread across the deck began to swell as the sailors busied themselves around it. Like an inflating pufferfish, it slowly expanded into a massive white sphere floating above the warship, with a strange basket suspended beneath it.
(To be continued.)