The Riverlands, Harrenhal
"Charge!"
As the dust settled, countless Targaryen soldiers, weapons in hand and raising the dragonwolf sigil high, roared as they charged toward the breaches in Harrenhal's walls.
Their eyes were filled with determination and courage, as if they could already see the dawn of victory; to them, they were soldiers blessed by the gods, the embodiment of justice.
Meanwhile, the Lannister soldiers who had suffered the brunt of the lightning strikes had yet to recover from the terrifying storm.
Their faces were pale, their eyes filled with terror and helplessness, as if they could already sense the breath of death.
"Defensive positions, now! Move, move, move!"
"Get up, you cowards!"
As the Targaryen soldiers continued to pour in, the officers stationed there finally reacted, shoving their soldiers to stand and resist.
Although the collapse of the walls had severely impacted the defenders' morale, these soldiers still subconsciously executed their officers' orders in the face of Lord Tywin Lannister's harsh military discipline.
"Kill!"
Led by noble knights and lords, the Targaryen soldiers were like tigers descending from the mountains; their blades flashed with a cold light, and every swing brought forth a rain of blood.
Especially the Northern warriors charging at the front; armed with battle-axes and greatswords, they cut through the Lannister soldiers like knives through butter.
Although the Lannister soldiers were numerous, they seemed overwhelmed by the Targaryen onslaught.
Their lines were broken time and again, and their morale continued to plummet.
Since this was a large area of rubble, the ground was extremely difficult to traverse; a single misstep could send a soldier falling into the gaps between the stones.
Yet the soldiers on both sides showed no fear; the army under Jon's command fought for military merit and fiefs, while the Lannister soldiers fought for their very lives.
After consolidating the Westerlands, Lord Tywin had turned the region into an iron fortress; most of these soldiers were a generation raised on Lord Tywin's philosophy that "A Lannister always pays his debts."
These soldiers were firm believers in the rule of the Golden Lion, and during the conquest of the Riverlands, Lord Tywin had consistently allowed them to burn, kill, and pillage.
Because of this, knowing they were facing an army largely composed of Riverlands soldiers, they were on high alert.
Squelch…
With a horizontal swing of Ramsay Bolton's axe, a Westerlands knight in thick armor was cut down; though the axe was sharp, the heavy armor prevented the man from being killed instantly.
But this was no problem for Ramsay; he delivered a fierce kick to the knight's stomach, sending the man flying backward from the powerful blow.
"Kill!"
It was this momentary pause that allowed several Lannister soldiers behind the knight to find an opening, thrusting their spears toward Ramsay.
Sensing their approach, Ramsay showed no fear; he stepped back and quickly pulled out the grimoire at his waist.
Whoosh… Crack!
As Ramsay retreated, ice magic rapidly condensed, and in moments, several ice pillars erupted from the ground, impaling the soldiers.
Ramsay's sudden attack immediately deterred those trying to get close, and he took the opportunity to quickly retrieve his battle-axe.
"Hahaha, come on!"
Having regained his axe, Ramsay grew excited; while magic was powerful, he found it unsatisfying—smashing people with his axe was what he loved most.
While the soldiers were locked in a life-and-death struggle, the catapults that had been assembled in the camp outside the city were being pushed out one by one.
Stone was rare in the Riverlands; to use catapults, they usually had to rely on oil barrels or dead pigs as ammunition.
But now, with the rubble and broken bricks from Harrenhal's perimeter, everything became much simpler at Roose Bolton's command.
The soldiers began hauling the debris from outside the walls; once these stones were bound in special vine nets, they could be used as ammunition for the catapults.
These catapults had already been calibrated for weight and distance; once the counterweights were adjusted, the stones were loaded.
"Fire!"
Thud…
Boom…
Upon the officers' commands, the catapults began hurling stones in unison toward the area behind the walls; though their rate of fire was slow, their lethality was immense.
Ever since the last time he used concentrated fire with significant results, Jon had grown fond of this tactic; though the consumption of these war machines was high, the effect was remarkable.
As dense stones poured down from the sky like rain, the Lannister soldiers instantly fell into chaos.
They had originally thought that as long as they wore armor and held shields, they could withstand the enemy's arrows.
However, facing this sudden catapult bombardment, they felt unprecedented pressure.
Under normal circumstances, arrow volleys would indeed struggle to cause significant damage to these well-equipped Lannister soldiers.
After all, their armor and shields were finely crafted, enough to block most arrows.
However, catapult attacks were entirely different; in this mode of attack, the stones were augmented by mechanical force, bringing their destructive power to a shocking level.
Boom…
"Argh…"
"Aaaaah!"
"Look out!"
…As stone after stone fell, many Lannister soldiers rushing toward the breach in Harrenhal's wall were simply dazed.
During the previous thunderstorm attack, these soldiers had all hidden within the castle; except for a few unlucky souls buried with the towers, most of the soldiers had survived intact.
While the battle raged on, in a secret room within Harrenhal, a bizarre magic circle drawn in blood glowed eerily under the light of a fire.
"Will this method really work?"
Wearing silver-gray armor and a blood-red cloak, Lord Tywin looked at Avis, who was chanting, and asked Kaseda beside him with some uncertainty.
Lord Tywin would only ever trust the sword in his hand, but when he found that the things he once took pride in could not harm the enemy, he also began to believe in the ethereal concept of sorcery.
The Westeros of today was completely different from the one in Tywin's memory; sorcery, once treated as a taboo, had begun to spread across the continent, and even the Faith had started to keep wizards.
If Ganev and Naegor hadn't been absent, Lord Tywin wouldn't have sought out these two somewhat unreliable fellows; Avis was a very gloomy wizard, and Kaseda was an arrogant warrior.
At the start of the war, Tywin had ordered them to use magic to interfere with the storm clouds in the sky, but Avis had refused for various reasons.
After that, the lightning had struck down a tower, and now, seeing the situation become increasingly desperate, these two finally thought to use magic to fight back, much to Tywin's frustration.
"Rest assured, Lord Tywin! We will find a way for you to counter those fellows; you need only wait patiently."
Kaseda looked at the magic that was gradually succeeding and spoke to Tywin with confidence.
"Come forth!"
With a strange cry from Avis, a thick smoke flew directly out of the magic circle; the smoke seemed alive, flowing out through the cracks in the room.
Soon, the smoke flowed into the gargoyles atop Harrenhal; in this medieval-like world, many of the castle's waterspouts were shaped like gargoyles.
Crack…
Rustle…
Amidst the sound of cracking stone and friction, the weathered gargoyle statues suddenly began to move; under the influence of a blood-red, liquid-like substance, these gargoyles gained flesh-like tissues.
Hiss…
After a series of hisses, these gargoyles, with wings larger than their bodies, glided down toward the breach in Harrenhal's wall.
"What are those?"
"Watch out!"
"Take cover!"
…The attacking Targaryen soldiers cried out as they saw the monsters descending from the sky.
Boom…
Hiss…
A tall gargoyle, darker than the others, landed and snatched up a spear from a fallen soldier.
After a trial swing, the three-meter-tall monster charged toward a Targaryen soldier who stood stunned by the sight.
Bang…
Screech…
Realizing its weapon hadn't hit the enemy, the giant gargoyle tilted its head as if in thought.
Ramsay, who had blocked the gargoyle's attack, was somewhat startled, for the monster's strength was truly immense.
"Damn it! Don't underestimate the great Ramsay!"
With a roar from Ramsay, a burst of powerful energy erupted from him.
Bang…
After kicking the gargoyle, he took the opportunity to swing his battle-axe at its head.
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