At the wolf hour, when night was at its coldest and deepest, Gendry saw fire bloom against the darkness.
For a brief moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.
Then came the signal.
Flaming arrows arced across the sky, their tips burning with wildfire. It seemed that Ser Marq and Bluebeard's men had begun the assault.
The war had started.
The Silent Crossing
On the calm waters of the Green Fork, boats from Seaguard glided silently toward the Twins. Oars dipped into the river without a splash, and dark silhouettes moved like ghosts upon the current.
Ahead loomed the arch bridge and the River Gate Tower—an immense structure of stone and iron. Arrow slits lined its walls. Murder holes waited above. Heavy iron portcullises stood ready to drop at a moment's notice.
But tonight—
The portcullis remained open.
The Freys had grown complacent.
Lord Jason Mallister raised his hand.
The marksmen of Seaguard drew their longbows in unison. Their arrows aimed toward the scattered Frey guards posted at either end of the bridge.
The guards wore blue ring mail and silver-grey cloaks. Many still held torches, their flames flickering weakly in the cold night air. They were weary, waiting for the next shift to relieve them.
It was the most vulnerable moment of any watch.
"Loose."
Whoosh.
Whoosh.
The arrows cut through the silence.
Torchbearers dropped one by one, falling without a sound. From a distance, it almost looked as if they had simply sat down to rest.
The remaining torches slipped from lifeless hands, scattering across the stone bridge before being quickly extinguished.
Darkness swallowed the archway.
"Advance," Lord Mallister commanded.
Seaguard soldiers surged forward in disciplined waves. Ropes tipped with grappling hooks were thrown upward, biting into stone and timber. Agile men climbed swiftly, securing footholds along the structure before dropping more ropes for their comrades.
The arch bridge, once illuminated, became a tunnel of blackness.
Then Seaguard's elite infantry swept toward the River Gate Tower like a hunting eagle descending upon prey.
The River Gate Falls
Inside the tower, Frey guards blinked in confusion.
They had seen the torches go dark.
They had heard something.
But by the time realization struck, it was too late.
"Enemy attack!"
The alarm came a heartbeat too slow.
The open portcullis—left raised for the changing of the guard—became the enemy's invitation.
Lame Lothar Frey, Walder Frey's bastard son, hurried from his chamber. He had only glimpsed shadows moving across the bridge before panic seized him.
"What is happening?"
"It's an attack!" shouted a sentry. "Close the portcullis!"
But Seaguard soldiers were already inside.
Lord Mallister led the charge personally, his indigo cloak flowing behind him. His longsword flashed in the dim torchlight.
Steel rang.
Blood sprayed across stone.
Mallister struck with ruthless precision. He found the weak joints in armor, sliding his blade through chain and leather. Guards who had neglected to wear helmets lost their heads in a single sweep.
Arrows from Seaguard bowmen cut down defenders at close range. Blue ring mail offered little protection against a properly drawn longbow.
Some Frey soldiers tried to flee.
Others fell into the river below.
Within minutes, the River Gate Tower belonged to Seaguard.
Mallister climbed the stairs two at a time and confronted Lame Lothar.
The bastard looked pale, his thin face trembling.
"Lord Jason Mallister," he stammered. "What is the meaning of this?"
Mallister cut down a guard beside him before answering.
"I'm sorry, young master. Your father is a traitor to the Riverlands. We are here to suppress the rebellion."
"Traitor? You lie! Riverrun is still under siege!"
"Riverrun has been relieved," Mallister replied calmly. "Now it is the Twins that are surrounded."
The color drained from Lothar's face.
"That's impossible. The Starks and the Arryns haven't even moved—"
"Others have," Mallister said. "We have pledged allegiance to the king's heir. To Gendry."
The bastard's legs gave out.
Seaguard men secured the tower, taking control of the arrow slits and gates.
The River Gate had fallen.
Fire and Iron
Elsewhere, the battle intensified.
At West River Keep, Bluebeard and his men had already seized control of a side gate. The drawbridge crashed down over the moat after its ropes were cut.
"Hold the line!" Bluebeard shouted, forming a shield wall.
Alarm bells began ringing throughout the Twins.
"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!"
The chaos spread from West Keep to the River Gate Tower and onward to East Keep.
Patrik oversaw the trebuchets positioned beyond the walls.
"Fire!"
Five small trebuchets roared to life.
Oil barrels and heavy stones flew through the night sky, arcing like dark moons. Some smashed against battlements. Others splashed into the moat.
A few struck the heavy oak gates directly—but the iron-studded wood held firm.
Still, oil splattered across walls and doors.
"Archers!" Anguy commanded.
Longbowmen stepped forward, nocking arrows tipped with wildfire.
They loosed as one.
The sky lit up with streaks of fire.
Flames blossomed along wooden surfaces and oil-soaked stone.
The Twins, long considered impregnable, now seemed to burn from within.
The Charge of the Storm
Gendry watched carefully.
The gate would not fall easily.
So he made his decision.
"Ser Patrik, hold the line."
Patrik nodded.
"Charge with me!" Gendry roared.
War horns sounded from the forest.
Then came the thunder of hooves.
The Gold Cloaks cavalry burst from the tree line, steel glinting in firelight.
"Long live the Storm!"
"Long live the Liberator!"
They rode hard toward the fallen drawbridge of West River Keep.
Defenders on the walls were disoriented by fire and bombardment. Their counterattacks were scattered and poorly aimed.
Arrows glanced off Gendry's heavy armor.
Rolling stones missed him by inches.
He did not slow.
He crossed the drawbridge.
Bluebeard's formation parted at his command.
A black-armored knight burst through the passageway.
On his helmet rose a leaping stag and three dragons—horns like those of a war god.
Behind him streamed gold cloaks.
"Bang!"
Gendry's warhammer struck.
One Frey knight fell, skull crushed.
"Bang!"
Another collapsed, chest shattered.
Horses screamed. Men died.
"The Mountain!" someone shouted in terror.
"Fool! It's King Robert reborn!"
"No—it's the Bastard!"
Panic spread faster than fire.
Spear Against Storm
Hosdton Frey, commander of West Keep, scrambled to organize a defense.
"Longspear formation!"
Frey infantry hurried into position, blue mail glinting in the flames.
But they were too slow.
Gendry dismounted.
He exchanged his warhammer for a curved arakh—a blade sharper than winter wind.
"Forward!"
Spears leveled like a forest of steel.
Gendry charged.
His blade flashed.
Spearheads fell, sliced cleanly in half.
One spearman's torso split open in a single brutal stroke.
The formation wavered.
"Surrender and live!" Gendry shouted. "Only the Freys will answer for their crimes!"
He moved like a whirlwind, cutting through the line.
Barristan Selmy led a flanking maneuver, sweeping around the edges of the formation.
The Frey line collapsed under the pressure.
Men dropped their weapons.
"Surrender!"
"We surrender!"
Hosdton's spear wall dissolved into chaos.
More Gold Cloaks poured through the breached gate.
The West River Keep was lost.
The Fall of the Twins
With the side gate secured and the River Gate Tower under Seaguard control, the Twins faced assault from within and without.
Fire climbed the walls.
Trebuchets continued their steady rhythm.
Knights stormed the courtyards.
The once-proud stronghold became a storm-torn ruin of shouting, smoke, and blood.
Wherever Gendry advanced, resistance crumbled.
He stood tall amid the carnage, black armor smeared with ash and crimson.
To the Freys, he was no longer a bastard.
He was judgment.
And judgment had come swiftly.
One by one, defenders surrendered.
West River Keep's gates stood wide open.
The Twins—long a symbol of treachery—had fallen.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)