At that time, Aegon divided the Reach using Highgarden as the boundary, splitting it into inland and coastal regions. The two new titles to be established were the Lord Paramount of Riverdeep for the coastal territories and the Lord Paramount of Riverside for the inland lands. However, this division created a thorny issue: the coastal Lord Paramount of Riverdeep, who held the port cities, was vastly more powerful than the inland Lord Paramount of Riverside.
Oldtown and the Citadel were both located along the coast, while the great inland lords of the Reach were generally weak. Even the most prominent—House Tyrell and House Tarly—were merely Tier 1 powers and stood no chance of balancing against the Tier 0 Houses like Hightower and Manderly.
Aegon's strategy was to have the blood of House Targaryen stand with the inland Lord Paramount of Riverside. If a suitable time arose, he would grant the title to Raedelle's child. If Raedelle's child had not yet come of age by the end of the Dornish Conquest, then they would be placed in Highgarden to act as regent and fully support the inland Lord Paramount of Riverside—preserving the balance of power across the Reach.
...
The House Volmark ruled Harlaw Island, which held vast, fertile lands ideal for agriculture. Back in the Iron Kingdom era under Harren the Blackheart, the Volmarks had been the most powerful house besides House Hoare. Many famed captains and fearless warriors had served under their banner.
While Aegon was still enjoying the tender care of Lady Raedelle in Pyke Castle, the battle for Harlaw—the Iron Island closest to Westeros—had already begun, and ended just as swiftly.
The combined fleet of the Riverlands and the Crown held an overwhelming advantage in the number of warships and should have secured an easy victory. However, the absence of dragons for support made the landing operations unusually difficult.
At the time, the three dragons of House Targaryen were as follows: Aegon and Balerion personally led the Reach navy in a full-scale assault on the western Iron Islands. Queen Visenya rode Vhagar and worked alongside the Vale navy to suppress the rebellion in the Three Sisters. Queen Rhaenys, pregnant, remained in Harrenhal with Meraxes to rest.
Lord Qhorin Volmark, ruler of the island, did not survive the fierce landing battle. In the thick of combat, a cold arrow struck his neck, killing him instantly.
When the Head of House Tully presented Qhorin's body to Master of Ships Corlys, Corlys flew into a rage. He swung his longsword furiously, hacking Qhorin's corpse to pieces.
Aegon had previously issued a clear order: Qhorin Volmark was to be taken alive, in hopes of discovering the mysterious bloodline said to grant control over Krakens.
"Lord Corlys, Qhorin Volmark was never married and left no children. What are we to do now?"
The Head of House Tully addressed Corlys with honorifics, despite being nearly ten years older, as Corlys now represented King Aegon's authority.
"Find one! Even if we have to turn all of Harlaw inside out—find a bastard son of Qhorin Volmark!" Corlys replied with exasperation.
The Tully lord nodded in agreement and promptly ordered a thorough search of the island by Riverlands soldiers.
But things didn't go as planned. They found no bastard son of Qhorin Volmark. Instead, they stumbled upon his mother. Unfortunately, Lady Volmark was over fifty and far past childbearing age.
With no other options, Corlys and the Tully lord had to send a letter to Aegon, reporting the failure of their mission.
Harlaw and Pyke were close—just over a day's journey by fast ship. Aegon soon received the message but showed no anger. In his view, the Kraken was merely an embellishment for House Targaryen—nice to have, but ultimately unnecessary.
In this age, dragons were the true rulers of the world. Their power and majesty were enough to shake all corners of the realm.
Aegon immediately wrote back, ordering Corlys and the Tully lord to wipe out any remaining resistance on Harlaw. Once the combined fleets of the Westerlands and the Reach had secured Great Wyk and Saltcliffe, they were to sail for Orkmont, rally all their forces, and capture Lodos—the priest-king entrenched on Old Wyk.
While Aegon indulged in the warmth of Lady Raedelle's embrace, victories from the Westerlands and the Reach poured in like falling snow. The resistance they encountered was shockingly feeble. Almost every time, as soon as their armies and warships arrived and made contact with local forces, the enemy would scatter like frightened birds.
In addition, Vickon Greyjoy, one of the three major leaders of the Iron Islands, accompanied the campaign to persuade surrender, and the entire conquest unfolded with remarkable ease.
After more than half a month of operations, Loren, the Lord of the Westerlands, successfully captured the territory of House Merlyn on Great Wyk. Of the three major houses on Great Wyk, House Merlyn was geographically closest to Pyke.
House Hightower of the Reach secured the other two houses on Great Wyk, while House Manrey of the Reach took control of Saltcliffe.
From Pyke, Aegon gave a decisive order: aside from the forces needed to maintain control over already-conquered territories, all remaining warships were to regroup at Orkmont.
Orkmont held exceptional significance among the Iron Islands. It was the birthplace of two once-powerful dynasties of Iron Kings: House Hoare, to which Harren the Blackheart belonged, and House Greyiron, direct descendants of the Grey King. Both families had long since fallen into ruin.
...
A few days later, as Balerion soared over Orkmont, the situation mirrored what had happened on Pyke—Orkmont's two great houses offered no resistance and immediately knelt in surrender.
Aegon did not descend right away. He waited until Corlys and the Head of House Tully arrived with their fleet and firmly secured the island's military installations. Only then did he bring Balerion down and accept the allegiance of House Orkwood and House Tawney.
From these two local houses, Aegon learned that Lodos, the so-called son of the Drowned God, had taken advantage of the chaos—while Vickon Greyjoy and Qhorin Volmark were occupied by the Targaryen onslaught—to hastily convene a kingmoot.
With no opposition, Lodos easily gained the backing of many Ironborn captains. He crowned himself with the Driftwood Crown and proclaimed himself the newest Iron King.
Aegon recognized Lodos' intent clearly—this so-called son of the Drowned God meant to resist the Targaryen naval forces.
After waiting half a day on Orkmont, the fleets of the Reach and the Westerlands began to arrive one after another. Their numbers were smaller now, as some warships had been left behind to secure the newly subdued Iron Islands.
This gradual weakening of both regions' forces would only grow more severe in time—exactly what Aegon intended through his strategy of division.
What kind of place were the Iron Islands?
They were nothing short of a pirate stronghold that called itself a kingdom. Nearly every Westerosi territory along the Sunset Sea had suffered Ironborn raids. The Riverlands, at one point, had even been fully conquered by them.
The grudge between the green lands of Westeros and the Ironborn had festered for thousands of years. Could it really be resolved so easily?
Of course not.
The lords of the Reach and the Riverlands, once tasked with ruling the Iron Islands, would inevitably face countless uprisings. This internal strife would significantly drain the strength of both regions—and that was precisely the outcome Aegon desired.
...
On Orkmont, the Targaryen dynasty once again gathered its entire navy for a war council.
After a brief discussion, they decisively resolved to continue their advance toward Old Wyk, determined to crush the final royalist stronghold on the Iron Islands once and for all.
When the fleet neared the coast of Orkmont, it was met by a small resistance force—just over a dozen longships.
There was no need for Aegon or Balerion to act. The royal fleet swiftly deployed boarding tactics and easily subdued them, capturing all of the Orkmont warriors aboard.
But when Aegon personally interrogated the prisoners, he was stunned to learn that these warriors were all priests of the Drowned God.
Only then did the Targaryen vassals realize why they had charged so fearlessly into the path of hundreds of warships with barely a dozen ships of their own. Such was the power of blind faith.
The priest-captains shouted threats and curses at Aegon and his court.
"You dragons are doomed! The Barefoot Saint is summoning the envoy of the Drowned God! You'll all be dragged into His watery palace by the Kraken!"
Annoyed by their raving, Aegon gave the order without hesitation: the priest-captains were to have their throats slit and be tossed into the sea to feed the fish.
The moment the bodies of the Drowned God's priests hit the water, the once-calm sea roiled like boiling water. Massive bubbles surged from the depths, drawing cries of alarm from the soldiers on deck.
Aegon and his vassals rushed to the rail and peered over the side—what they saw stunned them. Hundreds of octopus-like monsters were swarming, tearing at the priests' corpses in a frenzy. Blood rapidly stained the sea red, and the stench of it filled the air.
The blood attracted sharks, which began circling. But as soon as they reached the bloodied waters, they were torn apart by the swarm of Kraken—some as small as a few meters, others over ten meters long. The scene was savage and terrifying.
The vassals of the Targaryen dynasty stood frozen in shock.
They had never imagined that the priest-king Lodos had actually managed to summon a host of Kraken. While most of them were only a meter or so long, one or two of the creatures were easily over ten meters, giant squid-like monstrosities.
Yet strangely, the Kraken did not attack the Targaryen fleet.
Aegon immediately understood: without a controller, the Kraken were nothing more than mindless beasts. It seemed the rumors were true—priest-king Lodos had no way of commanding them.
Just then, Balerion let out a thunderous roar from above. Without waiting for Aegon's command, he dove toward the sea like an arrow loosed from a bow.
He snatched one of the massive Kraken—over ten meters long—in his jaws, then beat his wings and soared high into the sky.
With just a few gulps, Balerion devoured the creature whole. Still unsatisfied, he dove again. This time, he clutched another Kraken in his mouth, while his two immense claws seized several more.
Now, Aegon and the others got a full look at the creatures. They were like a fusion of squid and octopus, their long tentacles writhing under the dragon's claws in a futile struggle.
Once Balerion had finished what was in his mouth, he made quick work of the ones clutched in his talons as well, devouring them one by one.
Perhaps cowed by Balerion's overwhelming presence, the remaining Kraken, having finished consuming the priests' bodies, withdrew into the deep, vanishing below the waves.
...
On a cliffside overlooking Orkmont, priest-king Lodos stood with forty robed priests, watching from a distance as Balerion feasted. His throat tightened with an involuntary dryness.
Lodos had assumed the dragons of House Targaryen were merely as large as the Kraken—ten meters or so. But the Balerion before his eyes was far beyond anything he had imagined—over a hundred meters long.
How could such a terrifying creature exist in this world?
Even the sea dragon Nagga of the Age of Heroes likely wasn't this immense.
"Saint, what should we do now..." one of the priests asked, unable to hold back.
Lodos slowly turned around, looked at his companions, and said calmly, "I don't know either..."
"The Dragonlord is about to land on the island." The priest's voice trembled with rising panic.
But Lodos simply smiled, showing no trace of fear. His tone remained composed as he told them, "Perhaps my father will tell us how to face the Dragonlord. I'm going to speak with him now and seek counsel."
The priests fell silent, staring blankly at the king they had chosen.
Lodos bent down, picked up a stone from the ground, and tucked it into his robe. Then, without hesitation, he walked toward the cliff's edge. Seeing the High Priest, the son of the Drowned God, act this way, the others seemed to understand—they were already out of options.
One by one, the priests followed Lodos's lead, gathering stones from the cliff and placing them into their robes before trailing after him down the mountain.
At the foot of the mountain, near the Hall of the Grey King, thousands of devout followers of the Drowned God were still gathered. As Lodos descended, they parted reverently to let him pass between the two rows of Naga's skeletal remains, as if on pilgrimage.
Witnessing this, the fanatics imitated Lodos's actions. They filled their garments with stones and followed the son of the Drowned God, slowly making their way into the sea.
The sea wind howled, stirring the waves with its icy breath.
As Aegon flew over the bay above the Hall of the Grey King atop Balerion, he caught sight of a surreal and chilling scene: thousands of gray-robed priests waded into the sea, chanting hymns in praise of the Drowned God. They entered the waters as though returning to the embrace of their mother.
Aegon scanned the crowd, trying to spot Lodos, the son of the Drowned God. But with so many already submerged in the sea, Lodos had likely drowned long before.
Aegon made no move to intervene, nor did he unleash dragonfire on the cultists.
Religious hatred often runs deeper than any political enmity. If these fanatics were eager to end their lives, then it suited his purposes perfectly.
When the last priest vanished beneath the waves, Aegon prepared to have Balerion descend—
—but just then, dark ripples began to spread across the sea's surface.
Aegon stared in disbelief.
From beneath the deep blue waters, oily black liquid began to emerge. The currents swirled and mingled until they took shape—a massive face, dozens of meters across, its features vague and unplaceable, neither clearly male nor female.
The black face opened its mouth wide, as if gasping desperately for air, flickering in and out of view with the rhythm of the waves.
A cold chill crept into Aegon's heart.
In that instant, Balerion let out a thunderous roar and unleashed dragonfire onto the sea. The black flames surged forth, engulfing the surface. The monstrous face ignited with black fire, and within just a few breaths, both it and the flames vanished without a trace.
Only then did Aegon snap out of it, realizing he had blanked out for a moment.
He directed Balerion to land beside the remains of the Grey King's Hall.
This legendary hall was now nothing more than a skeleton—massive, rib-like bones standing tall like pillars. Aegon stepped forward and laid a hand upon them. Nothing happened. Like the High Heart, this place was shrouded in a strange psychic field, but neither Aegon nor the dragon felt any effect from it.
Looking back toward the bay where the priests had marched into the sea, Aegon spotted something floating on the deep blue water—a seaweed-green crown, drifting with the current.
He walked to the shoreline.
The crown, tangled with strands of seaweed and glowing faintly with an eerie spiritual light, floated closer and closer. The waves pushed it gently onto the sand at his feet.
"The Driftwood Crown?" Aegon murmured, gazing down at it.
As if in response to his voice, the seaweed on the crown stirred slightly, shimmering with green light. The tendrils swayed gently, like living things, reaching toward Aegon as if beckoning him forward.
...
[Upto 20 chapters ahead for now]
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