Gendry stood at the shoreline, his gaze fixed on the fleet assembled across the sea. Hundreds of sails stretched across the horizon, their banners snapping in the wind. The fleet moved in perfect formation, a testament to the experience and discipline of its commanders.
At its center stood Duke Stannis Baratheon, a veteran sailor and one of the finest naval commanders in Westeros.
Turning to the three men entrusted with the operation, Gendry spoke in a calm but commanding tone.
"Duke Stannis, Lord Morford, Ser Davos—the success of this campaign at sea rests in your hands."
The three men nodded.
Stannis stood as rigid as black iron, his expression stern and unyielding. Years of hardship had carved determination into every line of his face. Beside him stood Ser Davos Seaworth. Though plain in appearance, the Onion Knight possessed remarkable talent and unmatched knowledge of the sea.
The third commander, Lord Morford Velaryon of Driftmark, presented a sharp contrast. Young and handsome, he possessed long golden hair and the confidence that came with noble birth. Though proud and often impulsive, he had considerable naval experience and could not be dismissed lightly.
Under Gendry's strategy, the fleet would be divided into several tasks.
Stannis would lead the main fleet and threaten King's Landing, creating the appearance of an imminent assault.
Davos would sail west and stage a threat against the Westerlands.
Meanwhile, Lord Morford would command the Driftmark fleet, transporting troops and supplies between Dragonstone, the Claw Peninsula, and the coast surrounding the Horn.
"Yes, Commander," Stannis replied.
"Yes, Commander," Davos echoed.
"House Velaryon is at your service, Your Highness," Morford added proudly.
Morford was known for his aggressive nature. He preferred direct solutions to every problem and had repeatedly advocated launching immediate attacks against both King's Landing and Storm's End.
His eagerness stemmed from a desire to restore House Velaryon's former glory.
However, in Gendry's presence, he restrained himself.
The achievements of the Storm King spoke for themselves. His victories had earned him authority that few dared challenge. Whatever private opinions Morford possessed, he understood that Gendry's orders would be followed without question.
Davos accepted his mission with a solemn nod.
Despite his vast experience, the responsibility weighed heavily on him.
He knew ships better than almost anyone in the Seven Kingdoms. He understood every sail, every oar, every coastline, and every current. He had fought in countless naval battles and survived storms that would have destroyed lesser men.
Yet commanding an independent fleet in such a crucial campaign still made him nervous.
At times, he felt like a frightened young boy facing his first battle.
Gendry noticed the concern on his face.
"There are no cities without people," he said. "Remember that your objective is not conquest. Strike at reinforcements. Avoid unnecessary battles."
Davos nodded carefully.
His fleet would undertake a lengthy voyage.
They would sail past Dragonstone, skirt the coast of Tarth, navigate the dangerous Stepstones, and eventually resupply in Dorne before moving toward Oldtown.
The route was long and filled with potential dangers.
Fortunately, Gendry had already reached an agreement with House Martell. The Dornish would provide supplies and assistance whenever necessary.
"I understand, Your Highness," Davos replied. "I will adapt to the situation and bring our fleet home safely."
Nearby, Lord Morford listened attentively.
The route reminded him of the legendary voyages undertaken by Oakenfist Velaryon generations ago. Yet while Oakenfist had sailed to aid the Westerlands against the Red Kraken, Davos now sailed to threaten House Lannister itself.
Morford could not help but feel a trace of envy.
Davos occupied a position of immense importance within Gendry's plans.
However, even Morford had to admit that few men could rival the Onion Knight's skill at sea.
The Stormlands valued ability above birth, and Gendry had repeatedly demonstrated that talented individuals would always find opportunities under his rule.
The current campaign reflected that philosophy perfectly.
Stannis had proposed a combined land-and-sea strategy.
The Stormlands army would march north through the Kingswood and establish itself along the northern bank of the Blackwater Rush.
At the same time, the fleet would blockade the river and prevent supplies from reaching King's Landing.
Meanwhile, additional forces from the Vale and Crackclaw Point would close in from the north.
Together, they would create a massive encirclement.
King's Landing would find itself trapped inside a giant C-shaped formation, surrounded on all sides.
It was a brilliant strategy.
In another timeline, its greatest weakness would have been Tyrion Lannister's wildfire trap.
Without wildfire, even a combined Lannister-Tyrell defense might have failed to save the city.
Ser Barristan Selmy, who had been quietly observing the discussion, finally spoke.
"Isn't dividing the fleet in this manner somewhat risky?"
As Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and a member of the Small Council, Barristan possessed both the experience and authority to question military plans.
Gendry considered the concern before answering.
"The risks are real," he admitted. "But the greatest rewards often require the greatest risks."
He turned his attention toward the sea.
"This campaign is not truly about taking King's Landing."
Several commanders looked surprised.
Gendry smiled faintly.
"The city is merely bait."
A heavy silence followed.
He continued.
"If Tywin marches to relieve the city, we destroy the strength of the Westerlands."
"If Lys and Volantis intervene, we destroy their fleets."
"Either way, our enemies bleed."
Only then did the full scope of the strategy become clear.
King's Landing itself was secondary.
The true objective was the destruction of enemy military power.
Satisfied with the explanation, Barristan nodded and said no more.
Gendry rested a hand upon the pommel of Orphan-Maker.
The famous Valyrian steel sword remained sheathed, yet the blood-red gemstone embedded within its hilt seemed almost alive.
It had been silent for too long.
Soon, it would drink blood again.
Stannis stepped forward.
"I will lead the fleet and crush every enemy before us."
Gendry smiled.
"Then may you win another victory worthy of the one that destroyed the Iron Fleet."
Stannis nodded.
His gaze shifted toward his flagship.
The Fury floated proudly within the harbor.
Its massive sails bore the crowned stag of House Baratheon.
Three hundred oars lined its hull.
Rows of ballistae occupied the deck.
Trebuchets stood at both bow and stern, prepared to launch flaming barrels of pitch against enemy vessels.
It was a terrifying warship.
Powerful.
Fast.
Deadly.
Yet despite its appearance, many of the soldiers aboard served primarily for appearances.
Speed and maneuverability remained the fleet's greatest weapons.
Soon afterward, Gendry and his companions boarded a Driftmark vessel bound for the Horn.
The silver seahorse of House Velaryon fluttered proudly upon its sails.
As the ship departed, Gendry recognized the man overseeing the voyage.
"Aurane Waters?"
The silver-haired sailor grinned.
"It has been many years, my lord."
Aurane Waters, the bastard brother of the Lord of Driftmark, had changed little.
He remained handsome, charming, and endlessly talkative.
"You've risen higher than anyone could have imagined," Aurane said.
"Back then, you were only a talented blacksmith."
Gendry laughed.
"And you charged me double for transportation."
The deck erupted with laughter.
Aurane raised his hands defensively.
"In fairness, Your Highness, you possessed the talents of a king even then."
More laughter followed.
Eventually, Aurane's expression became serious.
"I wish to enter your service."
The request surprised no one.
Driftmark's fortunes had declined greatly over the years.
For a talented bastard seeking opportunity, there were few better choices than joining Gendry.
"Very well," Gendry said.
"You are accepted."
Aurane bowed deeply.
The ship continued onward.
Crossing Blackwater Bay and passing through the Gullet, it sailed steadily toward Cape Massey.
The Hornwood soon appeared in the distance.
Its watchtower burned brightly against the evening sky, resembling the great ruby worn by the Red Priestess herself.
Melisandre stood nearby, serving as one of Gendry's most trusted advisors.
As the vessel approached the harbor, several local lords awaited their arrival.
Lord Durran Bar Emmon, a plump fourteen-year-old wrapped in expensive velvet, stepped forward first.
Beside him stood Ser Justin Massey of Stonedance, known throughout the region as Smiling Justin.
Both men immediately knelt.
"Your Highness, the Hornwood stands ready to serve."
"Your Highness, Stonedance stands ready to serve."
Gendry personally helped them rise.
"There is much work ahead of us."
The lords listened attentively.
Without wasting time, Gendry issued his first command.
"I need hunters."
The men exchanged confused looks.
"Hunters?" Justin repeated.
"Yes," Gendry replied.
"Men who know every trail, every stream, every hidden path through the Kingswood."
His eyes narrowed.
"And I need as many of them as possible."
The gathered lords immediately understood.
The coming battle would not be won by armies alone.
Information would be just as important as steel.
Both men bowed.
"As you command, Your Highness."
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)