Dragon-shadows drifted over the bay, circling above the Ironborn.
Several longships at the mouth of the Mander had already taken dragonfire to the face. Now it was the Shield Islands garrison's turn.
"Kill!"
The Dragons swept across the sky again and again. Across the bay came the crash of Ironborn ships colliding with the relief fleet from The Reach, mixed with warhorns, the clash of battle, slaughter, and screams.
At that moment, the sun rose bright and fierce, bathing the entire battlefield in a hazy glow of rose and gold.
Balerion was the first to breathe out his swirling black-red flame. Dragonfire could melt iron chains, let alone Ironborn who made their living on the sea.
Then the green dragon Vhagar and the white dragon Viserion followed. The Dragons beat their leathery wings, bringing fire and death.
Dragonfire of many brilliant colors bloomed over the sea, like bright roses of death.
The Ironborn had a poor rate of armor. They gripped longswords, spears, and axes, but seven or eight out of ten wore no armor at all, and the rest wore only patched scale armor.
The Dragons' earth-shaking roars echoed across the sky, followed by scorching winds like something from hell.
The Dragons circled, climbed, then plunged.
Flame bloomed, bloomed, and bloomed again.
It burned, burned, and kept burning.
Ironborn longships, Ironborn banners, Ironborn bodies, all burned fiercely until they became charred, stinking corpses.
"Kill."
Ser Garlan Tyrell leapt onto the deck of a longship, his green cloak with its golden rose streaming behind him.
The rose soldiers in green followed close after him. They were household soldiers of House Tyrell, well equipped and well trained.
Though House Tyrell had also risen from stewards, The Reach had always revered knights, and Longspear Leo had greatly raised the Rose's reputation.
Garlan's longsword flashed like falling starlight. First it cut off an Ironborn's arm, then it sheared a second man through the waist.
Steel split hair, ears, and neck. The smell of blood rushed into the air.
Blood spattered across the golden rose on green, life without end.
"Die!"
A rose soldier slammed his shield into an Ironborn. The Ironborn blocked with his battle-axe, while the rose soldier's companion thrust a spear in from the side.
The rose soldier shoved at once, sending the dazed Ironborn tumbling into the sea.
"For Highgarden!"
"For Highgarden!"
The rose soldiers shouted.
Garlan glanced at the power of the Dragons, and a longship burst into flame at once.
The Ironborn wailed and begged, their bodies giving off waves of scorched, foul smell.
Compared to knights, Dragons were one-of-a-kind weapons of mass destruction.
The Kraken might rampage across the seas, but Dragons were the true masters of the sky.
"The Ironborn don't seem to have many longships."
Gendry lifted a Myrish lens and looked over the ships scattered across the sea. Crow's Eye must have taken the main force away in advance.
At the mouth of the Mander, there had been roughly four ships. Around the Shield Islands, only a dozen or so had come out to fight.
Crow's Eye had left behind some wounded Ironborn who could no longer row, along with men to help the leaders defend, while the rest and their longships had been taken away.
"Long live the Storm!"
"Long live the Storm!"
Amid the uproar, the Ironborn longships of the Shield Islands were swept away and destroyed like rotten wood.
Farther out at sea, several longships sailed into the distance without looking back, abandoning the Shield Islands entirely.
They had bought time while the naval battle was fierce, and a desperate enemy should not be pursued too far.
The victorious relief fleet turned toward the islands. Some of the island lords had already departed earlier with the Iron Fleet, while Maron Volmark, a young man in his teens, had slipped away amid the chaos.
Speed was precious in war. Once the Iron Throne decided to send troops, it moved like wind and lightning, with fast boats running all the way from Bitterbridge to Highgarden.
The Ironborn had scout ships at the mouth of the Mander, but they had never expected Highgarden to conjure so many longships, most of them gathered by Gendry, much less that there would be Dragons to support them. Dragons as large as warhorses had been beyond expectation.
The Shield Islands' defenses were also loose. The Ironborn of today were strong in sea battles but weak at holding castles, and the gates and fortifications of the Shield Islands had not yet been fully repaired.
On top of that, the Ironborn lacked numbers and had suffered heavily. Most of those who came out to fight in the field were making desperate death charges.
Most of the Ironborn lords escaped, but Gendry did not come away empty-handed.
Gendry landed on Greyshield, where Ser Harras Harlaw was still holding the castle.
The docks had already been retaken. The whole town was eerily quiet, and every face grew colder and colder.
The slaughter committed by the Ironborn was plain to see. There were few people left here.
Most of the men had died in battle, while the women and children had likely been sold to slavers by the Ironborn.
Most shops and houses had been looted, as the broken doors and windows proved, but only the sept had been burned.
Each island had gained a mass grave. The corpses in the streets had been carried off by the survivors and buried on the beach.
"Leave no survivors," Gendry declared coldly.
"Yes."
After seeing the killings wrought by the Kraken, no one had any mercy left. Blood for blood, fire for fire.
The people of The Reach struck the hardest, killing even wounded Ironborn.
"Come on. Duel me."
Ser Harras was tall, with a long face and a solemn expression he always seemed to wear. He was one of the few knights from the Iron Islands.
"The Storm truly moves as swift as thunder."
The knight planted his banner before the shattered gate of Greyshield's castle. He knew the day was lost.
The path of survival had been cut off. They had never had many ships, and with time gone, they were now cornered beasts. Only death remained.
The banner was a quartered shield of black and white, with a silver scythe on black and a peacock on white.
Beside Harras stood battered Ironborn, the remaining warriors now few.
Dragons circled high above, and the Ironborn faces were ashen.
"You are of House Harlaw," Gendry said.
"So what? I challenge you. If I win seven times, let me leave," Ser Harras said, gripping Nightfall.
"No need for seven men. I'll give you a chance to kneel. Kneel at my feet, and you may still live. House Harlaw is not Crow's Eye's dog."
Gendry stepped past the crowd, holding a double-bladed great axe.
"You are the King on the Iron Throne, Gendry Breaker, Robert's son." Harras was shocked.
"I am." Gendry laughed. "I heard you challenged seven men beneath House Grimm's castle, but you are no match for me."
"I would rather die in battle than kneel and surrender."
Ser Harras was also a brave warrior, and he took it as an insult.
Harras had taken Grimston single-handedly. He had planted his banner beneath the castle and challenged the men of House Grimm. They fought him one by one. Two surrendered, and all the others died.
After the seventh man fell, Lord Grimm's septon declared that the gods had shown their will, and they surrendered the castle.
"It seems Greyshield is more important to you than your life. But Volmark has already fled."
"He is only a coward, a child."
"How did you know the Shield Islands were weak now?"
"I know your false king will only wait for me at Oldtown," Gendry said.
Crow's Eye was evil, but extremely careful.
His plan was to blood-sacrifice Oldtown and let the Kraken's power reach its height. The Shield Islands were something he was willing to lose.
"I see."
Everyone automatically gave the two men space. It was an unspoken rule, the spirit of chivalry, the martial virtue of knights.
Whatever it might be elsewhere, on the continent of Westeros, men took pride in a knight's brave duel and in leading the charge. Most men simply drove straight ahead like boars.
Men like Tywin and Stannis, who commanded the reserves from the rear, were the minority. Even Randyll would carry his greatsword into the fighting himself.
Harras raised Nightfall in despair. The longsword had a moonstone pommel, and below the hilt was an ornament like Kraken tentacles wrapping the hand.
Harras rushed at Gendry. "Then let me become the Stag-slayer."
"You're wrong," Gendry said coldly. "I am the one who will cut off the Kraken's head."
The white knights had the honor of fighting for the King, but Gendry's white knights were still some distance below him in strength.
Harras might be beneath Ser Barristan and roughly equal to Balon. As for the other three, Gendry was less certain.
Harras swung Nightfall with astonishing speed. No wonder he had been the knight who fought seven duels in a row.
Harras raised his longsword in an upward slash, then suddenly made as if to chop hard at Gendry's lower body. It was a feint.
Harras had long heard the bloody name of the "Bloodthirsty Storm." Robert Baratheon's son was the wildest and most brutal warrior alive, and had never lost.
Harras could only hope to rely on agility and changeable moves, while a battle-axe was slow to handle.
Clang.
The two Valyrian steel weapons collided with a shrill scream.
Only Valyrian steel could stand against Valyrian steel.
"You are good, but that is all."
Gendry's great axe blocked Nightfall's attack, then he suddenly exerted his strength, forcing Harras to stagger backward.
Gendry swung the battle-axe and began hunting like a nimble lynx. Harras felt as if the martial skill he had always been proud of was clumsy as a child's.
"How is this possible?"
Harras's eyes widened, and he hurriedly raised the Valyrian steel longsword to avoid the battle-axe's strike.
The power of the Storm was unmatched. Harras could not help feeling despair.
Crack.
Harras blocked the attack, but the force rushing through the battle-axe felt like being struck by a boulder.
Garlan watched the fight intently. He might have won, or he might have lost, but he could never have made it look so effortless.
Gendry's strength and speed made Harras feel there was nowhere to hide, whether he struck light as if it were heavy, or heavy as if it were light.
Gendry's strength was like the tide, wave after wave, endless and rising, a force that built upon itself.
"How is this possible?"
Harras felt weight and impact pressing down on him. Before such force, a man felt as though he might cough blood.
A person's stamina and speed were limited. By rights, someone as tall and powerful as Gendry should not be able to move this way, yet Harras felt that Gendry had done it.
Gendry suddenly leapt up. The Wail of the Kraken was astonishingly fast, like a deadly afterimage. The black-red axe blade greeted Harras with savage force.
"No!"
Harras screamed, and the battle-axe cut diagonally through his quartered shield, his armor, and then his body.
The black-red blade split Harras's armor, ribs, and organs. Blood sprayed upward, and the knight was divided into two great halves.
Before the Valyrian steel battle-axe, flesh, cartilage, and bone were soft as suet.
Harras's corpse fell before the castle gate.
"Long live the Storm!"
"Long live the Storm!"
The warriors shouted, then swept into the castle like a gale, continuing the slaughter.
Gendry picked up Nightfall. It was just the spoil he needed, to return to House Celtigar.
All the Ironborn corpses were dragged out and laid in the square.
Boom.
Dragons circled down, and roaring dragonfire rose once more.
***
...
If you'd like to support my work and unlock advanced chapters, you can follow me on p-@-treon.
[email protected]/PinkSnake (50 Chapters Ahead).
You can also follow as a free member to read a few advanced chapters.
***