With the Queen's command as a shield, everyone had the confidence to directly refuse Viserys Targaryen.
Facing the unanimous refusal, Viserys was clenching his fists tightly, wishing he could punch these rigid Targaryen Family loyalists.
As skilled generals, each of them had their own fixed way of fighting.
Little did they know, what often defeated them was fate.
And this unfortunate fate had indeed befallen the Targaryen Family.
"No, no, I absolutely cannot compromise here!"
Viserys shook his head, trying to force himself to clear his mind.
He had only just managed to accumulate some strength for the family with his father's tacit approval; how could he stand by and watch them be easily consumed by the storm?
He mustered his courage and finally puffed out his chest, declaring loudly, "Compared to the Targaryen Family's dragons, the Dreamwalker is the Royal Family's trump card!"
"And I am this generation's Targaryen Family Dreamwalker, a prophet who can briefly see the future!"
"My ancestor, Dreamwalker Daenerys Targaryen, foresaw the doom of Valyria and led the Targaryen Family to escape, becoming the last Dragonlord family in the world."
Upon hearing this, everyone frowned and exchanged glances, for they had never heard the story of the Dreamwalker.
Compared to the Forty Dragonlords of Valyria, the Targaryen Family was indeed a minor branch, but the Targaryen Family was also the only Dragonlord family to escape the Doom.
"It is precisely by relying on brief prophecies that I can lead everyone to bypass the main force and strike at the enemy's weakly guarded areas!"
Viserys added.
In order to lead the Royal Navy Fleet to avoid the great storm descending upon Dragonstone, Viserys had no choice but to brazenly attribute all the credit to the title of Dreamwalker, instantly shattering his original plan to accumulate prestige through military achievements!
At this moment, only a hint of bitterness remained in Viserys's heart.
However, to everyone's surprise, the Royal Family nobles before him all had sparkling eyes, staring intently at Viserys.
"Long live the new King! Long live the Targaryen!"
Ser Willem Darry was the first to shout loudly, and then the soldiers of the entire warship fell into a frenzy.
The silver-haired, purple-eyed Targaryen Family already possessed the rare appearance of sorcerers.
Even if Viserys claimed to be a dark sorcerer at this moment, everyone would believe him.
After all, the achievements of ambushing Storm's End and cleverly seizing Lannisport had fully demonstrated Viserys's uniqueness.
In the turbulent times of the Targaryen Family, nothing was more inspiring than a miracle.
After all, weren't dragons also weapons of war created by the Targaryen Family's dark magic?
"Turn the rudder to port, towards White Harbor in the North!"
Ser Joffrey pondered for a moment, but still reluctantly agreed to the turn.
As the fleet turned, Ser Joffrey also had the accompanying soldiers record all of Viserys's words on letter paper and inform Queen Rhaella.
Before long, a dragon eggs, carrying the letter, quickly sailed towards Dragonstone on a small boat!
With sails hoisted and the sea wind whistling, a Royal Navy Fleet laden with jewels avoided a once-in-a-millennium great storm and headed towards the deserted White Harbor.
The Manderly Family could never have imagined that the disaster of their family's destruction was merely due to a lie from Viserys!
...Rumble!
A thick silver serpent slithered and climbed across the dark sky, thick black clouds almost covering the entire firmament, and the entire sea surface was as silent as hell.
Suddenly, a fierce storm descended.
Although the Dragonstone navy fleet had already deviated far from Dragonstone's course, a House Redwyne warship was caught off guard and capsized by waves several people high, sinking into this desolate sea area.
Ser Joffrey and Randal Tarly stood on the deck, gazing at the huge storm in the distant Dragonstone waters, their faces ashen and silent.
It was then that they realized how foolish their previous confident refusal had been.
"Dreamwalker!"
Count Randal Tarly muttered to himself.
This knight, who had once directly defeated Robert Baratheon, the King, was like a greenhorn before Viserys's Dreamwalker prophecy.
Whether it was the surprise attack on Storm's End or the sneak attack on Lannisport, such imaginative and almost flawless combat strategies could only be devised by a prophet like Viserys, who possessed full map vision.
"Alas!"
Count Randal Tarly sighed helplessly.
As a master strategist who prided himself on being skilled in war and unparalleled in schemes, he couldn't defeat Viserys on the battlefield, no matter how much he racked his brains.
That feeling of powerlessness was exactly like when the nobles of Westeros faced the unconquerable dragons with swords.
At this moment, everyone's gaze towards Viserys was no longer the polite respect for a strong or wise person, but awe for a divine being.
Once upon a time, everyone regarded members of the Targaryen Family as gods.
Until one day, with the Dance of the Dragons and the disappearance of dragons, the Targaryen were cast down from their divine pedestal, becoming mortals with only legends, no different from ordinary nobles.
"Your Highness, White Harbor is almost here!"
Ser Joffrey scurried up to Viserys.
He bowed and stuck out his rear, full of flattery, no longer displaying his previous haughty demeanor of looking down on a junior.
The change in his subordinate's expression was truly beyond his expectation.
However, he couldn't force a change now!
"It's up to you!"
Viserys said helplessly.
The Manderly Family ahead was the wealthiest family in the North, but that was still only the mere North!
White Harbor, as the only ice-free port in the North, was the sole outlet for the North's overseas trade and the core interest of House Stark.
Naturally, House Stark entrusted it to their most loyal vassal—the Manderly Family.
Viserys never expected to subdue these descendants of the first men.
Then he could only trample them with iron and blood!
"Yes, I guarantee the mission will be completed!"
Ser Joffrey suddenly stood tall and proud, pledging confidently.
With the "guidance" of Viserys Targaryen, the prophet, Ser Joffrey believed that future campaigns would undoubtedly result in a hundred victories.
What about making him attack a harsh land? That was clearly an opportunity given by Viserys for him to earn military achievements, and becoming a king or prime minister afterward would be a piece of cake!
"Woo—"
The sound of horns and war drums rang out again, and the Royal Navy Fleet encountered almost no decent resistance, with the navy directly landing on White Harbor.
Most members of the Manderly Family had led soldiers and the Duke of the North to the southern lands, and no one expected anyone to attack the North from a remote sea route.
All of the Manderly warships were easily burned to ashes by Ser Joffrey, and the remaining Manderly Family members were directly taken as Royal Family captives.
"Long live the Royal Family!"
"Long live Viserys!"
...While at White Harbor for rest and reorganization, the aroma of wine and meat filled the entire camp, and the entire Royal Family army was in a frenzy of celebration.
However, Viserys Targaryen stood alone on the high tower of White Harbor, gazing at the distant storm.
He knew the story of Daenerys, born of the storm, and naturally understood his mother's demise.
In this world with almost no surgery and no possibility of C-sections, even Viserys had no way to prevent his mother, Queen Rhaella, from returning to the embrace of the Seven Gods.
"Your Highness, a letter from Dragonstone!"
A plump, bald man dressed in black stepped forward, his hands tucked into his sleeves, his face full of bitterness.
Who else could it be but Varys, the Spider?