"Sheep Stealer, take care of the enemies on the battlements first."
Aemond shouted loudly, abandoning his attempt to snipe the archers.
Sheep Stealer lifted its dragon head, soaring upward before sharply changing direction. A torrent of dragonfire engulfed the Dornish soldiers working tirelessly to defend the city.
Boom—
Patches of brownish dragonfire rained down, igniting the oil and setting the rolling logs ablaze in a fiery explosion.
On the gray-white city walls, a spectacular yet gruesome display of blood and fire unfolded.
"Hahaha..."
Above the battlefield of blood and flames, the ugly, mud-colored dragon soared freely, accompanied by wild, unrestrained laughter.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
In an instant, several steel-tipped spears shot through the air, trying to turn the tide.
Sheep Stealer dodged with agility, letting out an odd, mocking screech in defiance.
Try to hit it? Not a chance.
Suddenly, chaos erupted atop the battlements. A group of Dornish soldiers shoved over a dozen elderly people, women, and children forward.
A Dornish officer, hiding behind the parapet, shouted despicably, "Withdraw immediately, or we'll execute the hostages!"
As he spoke, the captives were forced to the edge of the wall at spearpoint.
Below the city walls, the Stormlanders hesitated in their assault, looking up at the helpless captives.
When they recognized familiar faces among them, many warriors cursed furiously.
If they couldn't win, they'd just throw hostages in the way? Shameless.
"Dragonfire!"
Aemond didn't spare them a second glance.
"Screech—"
Sheep Stealer dove straight down, unleashing a blast of dragonfire onto the battlements.
A deafening explosion followed. Smoke and flames billowed into the sky like a mushroom cloud, swallowing the captives in an instant.
Before the Dornish could react, Sheep Stealer banked to the side, twisted its neck, and opened its jaws once more.
Boom—
Without the slightest hesitation, dozens of Dornish soldiers were incinerated into charred husks.
The moment unfolded so quickly that no one could react in time.
Both sides momentarily froze, stunned by how abruptly the hostages had perished.
"What are you standing around for? Keep attacking!"
Aemond lay flat against his dragon's back, barking orders at the forces below.
The siege raged on.
The Dornish defenders fought fiercely, unwilling to yield, while the Stormlanders attacked with relentless fury.
A deadlock formed between the battering ram and the city gate, testing which would give in first.
Aemond and Sheep Stealer bombarded the enemy with repeated aerial strikes, causing heavy casualties.
The Dornish, however, stubbornly held their ground, stalling the Stormlanders' progress in breaching the city.
As time dragged on, casualties mounted on both sides.
"Screech—"
Suddenly, a dark shadow loomed over the battlefield. A massive black dragon burst through the clouds, carrying an inferno of green fire.
A chilling voice, as cold as a midwinter night, rang out.
"Stand back!"
A suffocating wave of ash and heat blanketed Stonehelm. Sheep Stealer shuddered in fear, immediately turning tail and retreating with its rider.
"What are you doing? Don't run!" Aemond was completely confused.
Boom!
A massive fireball of green hellfire formed in the sky before crashing down onto the gray-white city walls like a meteor.
In an instant, the stone walls melted and crumbled as if they were mere wax.
"Screech!!"
Suddenly, another mighty dragon's roar echoed through the sky. From the churning clouds, a magnificent blue dragon burst forth.
Helena, wearing a blank expression, called out in a crisp voice: "Dragonfire!"
Dreamfyre's sleek, powerful form shot downward like an arrow, unleashing a devastating blast of dragonfire.
Agonized screams filled the air as a hidden squad of archers was reduced to ashes.
It was now noon.
Three dragons hovered in the sky, like three differently colored suns.
Aemond was dumbfounded, staring at the unexpected arrival of his older siblings.
Rhaegar cast him a sideways glance and scolded, "What the hell are you staring at? I'll deal with you later!"
"Huh?"
Aemond paled.
Dreamfyre soared past Sheep Stealer, its rider Helena tightening her expression. "You're in trouble."
"Wait—"
Aemond reached out pitifully, trying to plead his case.
Helena, with an icy flick of her head, simply rode Dreamfyre away.
The siege wasn't over—she had no time for her troublesome little brother.
Aemond turned to his eldest brother with a pitiful look.
But what had he even done wrong?
"Screech—"
Devourer didn't give him the chance to argue. The black dragon soared high, then abruptly dove headfirst, wings spread wide.
Rhaegar's expression remained calm, his silver hair whipping wildly in the wind.
Boom!
The black dragon abruptly lifted its head, halting just ten meters above the ground, before landing powerfully on its hind legs.
A cloud of dust exploded outward, blanketing the battlefield.
The Stormlanders trembled, momentarily forgetting the siege in the presence of the massive dragon standing before them.
Rhaegar lifted his chin, his voice steady. "Move."
The Stormlanders scrambled out of the way, abandoning even the battering ram.
Satisfied, Rhaegar patted the massive dragon's back.
"Screech—"
Devourer let out a deafening roar. Its enormous body turned abruptly, and its thick tail lashed out like a spear.
With a single devastating strike, the long-besieged city gate shattered into splinters.
"Gulp—"
The Storm Warriors widened their eyes, instinctively swallowing to calm their nerves.
The solid wooden gate shattered into pieces, its iron reinforcements punctured with holes. A perfectly good city gate was reduced to ruins in seconds.
With a single command, Rhaegar shouted, "The city has fallen—charge!"
"Long live the Young Dragon King!"
"Long live the Prince!"
The Storm Warriors cheered as they raised their massive shields and charged into the city without hesitation.
Fighting for House Targaryen was truly incredible.
Dragons eliminated seventy percent of the trouble.
Rhaegar silently observed the scene, commanding Glutton to take flight and begin an aerial assault.
"Roar—"
Glutton let out a low growl, flicking its tail wildly behind it.
Thankfully, the city gate had already been severely weakened. Otherwise, its tail tip might have snapped from the impact.
Rhaegar twitched his lips, shooting the dragon a look that said, figure it out yourself.
He had intended for dragonfire to clear the way, but Glutton had chosen an unconventional method.
After lingering for a moment, the massive black dragon took to the skies once more.
Dreamfyre and Sheepstealer worked together, wreaking havoc on the city's defenders.
As the eerie green dragonfire erupted, the battle ended faster than scattering a handful of beans.
"Run! The dragons are here!"
"Find the secret tunnel—get inside!"
The city was consumed by flames. The Dornish soldiers let out agonized screams, their bodies engulfed in fire.
---
Nightfall.
Draped in a black cloak, Rhaegar strode swiftly across the gray-white city walls.
Helena and Aemond followed closely behind him like shadows, never straying more than a step away.
His sister and brother made quite the contrast—Helena wore a black outfit with a green cloak, while Aemond was dressed entirely in green.
Helena's face remained expressionless, occasionally muttering under her breath.
Aemond hung his head like a defeated rooster, too afraid to speak.
As they walked, the Storm Warriors busily cleared the battlefield around them.
Beyond the city walls, under the moonlight, a massive green bonfire raged.
Piles of disfigured bodies stacked high, and the black dragon spewed flames upon them.
"Prince, the count is complete."
A tall officer approached to report.
Rhaegar halted and asked, "How many?"
The officer hesitated before responding, "Over 2,300 Dornish soldiers are dead. We have taken 3,500 prisoners, including several dozen nobles and knights."
Rhaegar frowned. "The force besieging Stonehelm had at least 10,000 men."
"It's said that several hundred escaped through a secret tunnel. We're still pursuing them."
The officer lowered his head guiltily and added in a hushed tone, "Another group raided the surrounding areas, looting valuables and sneaking them away in advance."
The Dornishmen were like locusts, stripping everything bare wherever they passed.
Villages had been pillaged from Stonehelm to Raven's Roost in the north and Mistwood in the east.
Rhaegar sighed inwardly.
The Dornish had come with reckless determination, prepared to die for their cause—just to steal supplies.
This kind of desperate decision-making wasn't new; the North had seen similar tactics in past winters.
"Qoren is truly ruthless," Rhaegar muttered, his gaze darkening as his estimation of the Dornish prince rose.
The officer asked cautiously, "Prince, the dungeons are full. Should we build temporary prisons?"
"Do they deserve that?"
Rhaegar met his gaze coldly and declared, "Detain the nobles and knights. Execute all common soldiers."
Nobles were valuable for prisoner exchanges.
But for the ordinary soldiers? He had no patience to manage them.
If they came seeking death, then death they would have.
The officer felt a chill down his spine under Rhaegar's gaze and quickly bowed. "Understood, my prince."
Rhaegar turned his attention back to his younger siblings and commanded, "Follow me."
---
Inside the castle.
The three siblings made their way to the guest hall.
Aemond, anxious the entire way, finally broke the silence. "Big Brother, why did you suddenly come?"
Then, turning to Helena, he murmured, "Sister…"
He was trying to evoke some sibling affection through repeated calls of brother and sister.
"…"
Helena shot him a sidelong glance before silently shifting farther away.
She didn't want blood splattering on her.
…Aemond.
So scared.
Rhaegar abruptly stopped, his sharp gaze locking onto Aemond.
"Earl Swann is dead. Ormund Yronwood escaped. And the Swann family's captives? You burned them all."
His tone was calm, merely stating facts.
"I didn't mean to…"
Aemond shrank his neck like an uneasy ostrich.
"You didn't mean to? Then tell me—what was intentional?"
Rhaegar's expression darkened, and he raised his hand high.
"I'm sorry! I didn't expect the Dornish commander to run!"
Terrified, Aemond shut his eyes tight.
Thud—
A gust of wind brushed past his ears, and a firm hand landed—not harshly—on his shoulder.
Aemond shivered but, after a long moment without pain, cautiously opened his eyes.
He looked up to see Rhaegar's face had returned to its usual calm, his deep eyes as unreadable as ever.
"Big Brother…"
Aemond pressed his lips together.
"Aemond, I have rarely struck you. Aegon, on the other hand, has experienced it far more."
Rhaegar gazed at him and said, "From what I see, you should be a smart child. I can tell from the way you deploy troops and command a siege."
Without any assistance from a commander, Aemond had led an army alone to defend the rainforest.
Today's siege had also been well-fought and impressive.
Even though the casualties would be significant, the city's fall was only a matter of time.
In terms of warfare alone, this boy was extraordinarily gifted—far surpassing Aegon, who had neglected his studies.
Aemond remained silent.
Rhaegar gritted his teeth, frustration evident in his voice. "Count Swann has died in battle, and your name is now tarnished beyond repair. The slaughter of the Swann family's prisoners has implicated the royal family's reputation as well."
No matter how powerful a ruler may be, the loyalty of their subjects is indispensable.
Aemond had deliberately prolonged the battle and ignored the fate of the prisoners—a decision that greatly damaged his credibility.
After all, who would swear allegiance to a narrow-minded tyrant who brings death and destruction to entire families?
Driven by selfish desires, Aemond had not only ruined his future reputation in the Stormlands, but he had also disgraced House Targaryen.
Upon hearing this, Aemond's gaze wavered, and he was left speechless.
He glanced at his sister, Helaena, as if seeking help, but she ignored him completely.
Rhaegar grabbed Aemond's face and said coldly, "Aemond, do you even realize what you are doing?"
Aemond trembled, his lips quivering. "I…"
He knew he was wrong.
But he simply couldn't control his desire for revenge.
A mere count had dared to disrespect him, and Aemond had held onto that grudge ever since.
Of course, there was also another, barely noticeable selfish motive.
Rhaenyra and Rhaegar both had their own lands, enjoying the support of lords and nobles.
That much he could accept.
He couldn't surpass his eldest brother, nor had he ever voluntarily renounced the position of heir.
But they were all born of the same parents—so why did Aegon also have his own lands, along with a castle personally built by their eldest brother?
He knew places like Myr and Lys, those Free Cities, were beyond his reach.
And the Crown had no suitable lands left to grant him.
After much consideration, Aemond had set his sights on Stonehelm.
With the Dornish rebellion looming, he knew his eldest brother's temperament—Dorne would be subdued sooner or later.
By taking control of Stonehelm, he would be at the forefront of securing military achievements.
Once Dorne was pacified, Stonehelm's port would form a direct link with the Stepstones and the Three Daughters, allowing control over Windward Point, the southern Narrow Sea, and the Disputed Lands' maritime trade routes.
He would never lack opportunities for naval commerce in the future.
(End of Chapter)