Tyrosh, the assembly ground.
Daytime. On the assembly ground, five hundred Velaryon soldiers stood in neat formation. They were dressed in civilian clothes, without armor or weapons in their hands. Expectant expressions were on every face. It was good to hear that the prince was going to give out rewards. After so many years of service in Tyrosh, they were finally getting a little something.
"I heard each man will get ten silver coins?"
"Not only that, I heard the deputy commander say it will be twenty."
"That's good—just save up to buy a skirt for my new wife."
To maintain the loyalty of these men, Prince Lucerys had once ordered the remaining army to forcibly marry Tyroshi civilian women. After all, Prince Lucerys knew that some of the soldiers' families had already been taken by the Greens. The morale of the entire army was low, and he had no choice but to issue this command.
At this moment, the remaining Velaryon troops spoke in low voices, smiles on their faces.
Around the assembly ground, more men had appeared at some point. It was Tyrosh's newly recruited army—two thousand soldiers, once Tyroshi laborers—well-armed, well-equipped, with spears and swords in hand.
The Velaryon garrison troops looked at them with some suspicion.
At this moment, they had already begun to form up around the assembly ground, surrounding the entire area.
"Those Tyroshi? Why are they here?" someone asked suspiciously.
"Maybe they're here to keep order?"
"Rewards—someone has to watch over it."
"Yeah."
The soldiers didn't think too much about it and continued waiting.
Amon stood on the high platform beside the assembly ground, his face pale, cold sweat beading on his forehead. The six bastards behind him watched Amon with ill intent.
Before Amon stood several Tyroshi heralds, waiting for his order.
"My lord," one of the heralds asked cautiously, "when will it begin?"
Amon opened his mouth but was speechless.
He knew that once he gave the order, these soldiers would rush onto the assembly ground and kill all those unarmed Velaryon soldiers. Five hundred lives. They were in his hands. If he were disobedient, his wife and children would also become corpses.
Amon closed his eyes and drew a deep breath.
Then he opened his eyes and raised his hand.
"Do it."
The herald raised a horn and sounded the attack signal.
Waaaaa!
The horn's sound echoed across the assembly ground.
The Velaryon soldiers were still bewildered, not understanding what was happening. Then they saw the soldiers around the assembly ground begin to move. These heavily armed soldiers, neatly formed, stepped closer and closer to the center of the assembly ground. Their spears were leveled, swords drawn, shields raised—like a moving iron wall.
"What... what is this?"
"No!"
"Run!"
But it was too late.
The first row of spears thrust forward; more than a dozen men fell to the ground.
Finally, screams broke out.
"Murder!" "Run!" "Why? Why?!" "Why! Doing this to us!"
"Simon and Amon, you two bastards!"
Five hundred unarmed soldiers, facing thousands of heavily armed Tyroshi, had no chance to resist. They scattered, but the assembly ground was full of people—there was nowhere to run. They knelt and begged for mercy, but the soldiers carrying out orders were merciless, striking down one after another.
Blood stained the assembly ground red.
Corpses piled into mounds.
Screams, wails, and pleas for mercy mingled like a symphony of hell.
A young soldier knelt on the ground, holding a dead comrade, crying loudly.
"Why? What did we do wrong? We are your own people!"
A Tyroshi approached and shot him in the chest with an expressionless face.
Another soldier tried to climb over a wall, but was caught by several Tyroshi soldiers and stabbed to death.
There was also a man who looked like an officer, shouting as he ran, "I am Velaryon! I am Lord Corlys's man! You can't kill me!"
Before he finished speaking, a sword cut off his head.
Amon stood on the high platform, watching the scene, his whole body trembling.
He also knew that his retreat was completely cut off. He had helped Hugh with the coup... The eyes of those soldiers before they died pierced his heart like knives. They did not understand until death why their own people had suddenly begun killing them.
The massacre lasted a quarter of an hour.
When the last Velaryon soldier fell, the assembly ground was already covered in blood. Five hundred corpses lay sprawled; the air was thick with the strong smell of blood, nauseating. Some of the Tyroshi soldiers who had carried out the massacre were expressionless, some were pale, and some could not help vomiting.
The Tyroshi army only knew that Amon had told them it was an order from Prince Lucerys himself. He said these men had betrayed Queen Rhaenyra.
---
Lucerys Velaryon was in his room, chatting with Baela and Rhaena.
Baela was twelve years old, the daughter of Daemon and Rhaenyra, and Lucerys's betrothed. She had inherited her mother Laena's beauty—silver hair, violet eyes, and a gentle smile. Rhaena was thirteen, Baela's older sister, also with silver hair and violet eyes, but with a softer temperament than her sister.
"Luke," Rhaena lay on the windowsill, looking at the scenery outside, "do you know when my father will come for us?"
Lucerys smiled; the smile looked somewhat strange on his burned face.
"When the war ends, Uncle Daemon will come for you."
"When will the war end?"
"Soon."
"Then, Luke, will you still marry my sister?"
Lucerys was stunned for a moment and looked at Baela. Baela's face flushed; she lowered her head and said nothing. Though Luke was disfigured, they had a bond built over the years.
"Of course I will," Lucerys said. "When the war ends, we will be wed."
Rhaena clapped her hands and smiled. "Great! Then I will be the bridesmaid!"
Baela's face grew even redder.
At that moment, hurried footsteps sounded outside the door. A servant burst in, his face pale. "Your Highness! Something terrible! Someone is attacking the castle!"
Lucerys stood abruptly. "What?!"
But before he could react, the door burst open with a crash.
Hugh Hammer rushed in with a dozen bastards, covered in blood. They held swords in their hands; blood still dripped from them.
Lucerys's gaze passed over them and looked out the door. In the corridor lay several corpses—more than twenty members of the bastard guard who had remained in the castle, all loyal to him.
"Hugh, my knight," Lucerys asked in confusion, "what are you doing?"
Hugh approached him, knelt on one knee, and bowed his head respectfully, as if nothing had happened.
"Your Highness, the Velaryon garrison conspired with the Volantenes to betray the queen and Your Highness. I have killed the rebels."
Lucerys stared at him, momentarily speechless.
The Velaryon garrison? Ser Simon? They were all chosen by Grandfather Corlys. How could they betray?
Lucerys finally understood. He pointed at Hugh, his voice trembling.
"You... you've rebelled?"
Hugh raised his head, his face unchanged. "Your Highness misunderstands. I did this to protect Your Highness."
"Protect me?" Lucerys laughed in anger. "You killed those men and say you're protecting me?"
"Those men were traitors," Hugh said calmly.
"Nonsense!" Lucerys roared. "Ser Simon served my grandfather for decades. How could he betray me? Those troops—how could they betray?"
Hugh was silent.
Lucerys looked at him, at his expressionless face, at his unwavering gaze.
This was a coup.
"Hugh," Lucerys gritted his teeth, "I raised you up. I gave you noble status, made you a knight, made you a commander of a castle. And this is how you repay me?"
Hugh stood and brushed the ash from his knee. "Your Highness's kindness to me—I remember it in my heart. But, Your Highness, you are too young. You don't know how sinister this world is. Do you think those Velaryons were truly loyal to you? I have cleansed you of a disaster. Now you should thank me."
"Thank you?" Lucerys looked at the shameless Hugh, trembling with rage. "You kill my men and still want me to thank you?"
Hugh looked at Prince Lucerys; a flicker of pity passed through his eyes. The pity of a victor for a loser.
"Your Highness," he said, "you need to rest well. I will handle the affairs outside."
He waved his hand, and several bastards stepped forward, restraining Lucerys.
"Let me go!" Lucerys struggled. "You traitors! You will burn in the seven hells!"
Baela and Rhaena were frightened by this sudden turn. Baela held her sister tightly and glared at them in silence. Rhaena had already begun to cry.
Hugh glanced at them and said deeply to the bastards, "Take the two princesses to the next room and keep them alive. No one is to harm them."
"Yes."
The two girls were taken away. Rhaena's cries grew fainter and finally vanished at the end of the corridor.
Lucerys was pressed onto the bed by the bastards; he raised his head and glared at Hugh. His eyes burned with anger, but that anger was useless.
"Hugh," he said, word by word, "you will regret this. My grandfather will kill you! Prince Daemon will kill you! My mother will cut you into a thousand pieces."
Hugh smiled. "Perhaps. But, Your Highness, have you ever thought where you will be when they come to kill me?"
Lucerys was stunned.
Hugh crouched and looked at Lucerys at eye level. "Your Highness, you are now in my hands. The two princesses are also in my hands. Tell me—will the Blacks dare to touch me?"
Lucerys was stunned.
Hugh patted his face, stood, and said to those around him, "Watch His Highness closely. If anything goes wrong, you know the consequences."
"Yes."
Hugh turned and left; his footsteps gradually faded down the corridor.
Lucerys regretted why he had promoted these bastards. Now those bastards had betrayed the Blacks! Betrayed him! And his mother!