Iron binds the shadows, stained by the setting sun; bright copper blood splashes, the hundred flowers weep.
Flames consume the heart, the comet falls; candlelight in the long night devours the wolf's peril.
Dragonstone.
'Ancient books of Asshai prophesy that after the long summer, the stars will bleed, and a cold darkness will descend upon the world. A warrior shall draw a burning sword, "Lightbringer," from the flames. He is Azor Ahai, and he shall be reborn amidst smoke and salt to wake dragons from stone.'
The beautiful Melisandre stood before the army in her red robes, shouting the prophecy of Azor Ahai. Her clothing was thin, fluttering in the cold wind, constantly lashing against her perfectly proportioned figure.
However, the magic of the red god, Rhllor, contained within her body, made her no longer fear the invasion of the cold.
Her meaning was clear: the Stannis Baratheon standing before you is the reincarnation of Azor Ahai, the messenger of rhllor, the red god. He is the only one who can save this world.
Although Stannis Baratheon had only gathered a force of two thousand men on Dragonstone, his will was extremely firm, never yielding; it could be said that his ambition was unshakeable.
According to the line of succession, Stannis Baratheon is the legitimate king of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm of Westeros.
Therefore, Stannis Baratheon would not form alliances with anyone who declared themselves king without authority; in his eyes, these people were all false kings and his enemies.
It had the air of: 'The usurper and the true king cannot coexist; the royal cause cannot be abandoned.'
After Melisandre finished speaking, Stannis Baratheon stepped forward. He walked onto the high platform and raised his right arm.
Stannis Baratheon had broad shoulders, a tall stature, a robust build, and a stern, majestic face.
His skin, having been exposed to the scorching sun for a long time, had become as hard as iron, just like his personality.
Although he was not yet thirty-five years old, there was only a row of short, thin black hair left on his head. It looked like the shadow of a crown, circling behind his ears.
Stannis Baratheon kept the beard on his face trimmed short and even, like a blue-black shadow covering his square chin and the hollows of his cheeks.
Beneath his furrowed, thick eyebrows were his large eyes. They were piercing, as dazzling as the light of the sun, as if they could see through all lies and illusions.
His lips were pale, thin, and tight. In the eyes of his retainers, Stannis Baratheon seemed as if he would never smile.
'I am the only legitimate heir to the iron throne, ruler of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm: Stannis Baratheon I!'
'Now, false kings hold power, and rebellions arise everywhere. Warlords contend for supremacy, and the people suffer. I must fulfill my mission as an heir to the iron throne: expel the false kings and pacify the world!'
Just at that moment, Stannis Baratheon held his head high, and his right hand suddenly drew his longsword. The unsheathing of the sword had a sound, and the hearts of the people were swept away.
The moment the longsword left its scabbard, it emitted a brilliant and eerie light, turning red, then orange, then yellow.
It was as if a great sun were rising from the longsword, flashing with dazzling light. Its boiling, smoking blade surged with majesty, heat, power, and courage.
Stannis Baratheon, his face as cold as frost, held the radiant longsword high, just like Azor Ahai, who had descended into the world amidst smoke and salt, holding "Lightbringer" aloft.
The soldiers were all shocked by this magical and strange scene. With fanatical eyes, they raised the swords in their hands and shouted loudly:
'Long live the King!'
'Long live the King!'
'Long live the King!'
The enthusiastic shouts of the soldiers drowned out the sound of the surging tide, the howling cold wind, and the neighing of the tall horses.
Borin Storm, who was standing in Stannis Baratheon's army of two thousand, was also excited, raising his sword high and shouting, 'Long live the King!'
The light emitted by the setting sun was warm and tranquil, with shades of red, orange, and yellow, soothing everyone's hearts.
As the sun gradually sank toward the horizon, the remaining light of the sunset scattered through the dancing dust and moisture, diffusing into a beautiful afterglow and forming a magnificent sunset glow.
However, although the sunset was infinitely beautiful, it was always inevitably sinking into darkness.
The sword in Stannis Baratheon's hand was as scorching as the morning sun, just as radiant.
But this was a sword of the sunset, because the heart of this sword was cold.
The South.
Before Aegon conquered the Seven Kingdoms, The Reach was once the territory of the independent Kingdom of The Reach. The area of The Reach was second only to the North, named after the Mander River and its many tributaries that flowed through it.
The Reach had open terrain, convenient irrigation, and fertile soil, so agriculture was developed, with fruits and vegetables everywhere and flowers in full bloom. It was known as the granary of the Seven Kingdoms. The fertile Reach also supported the largest population on the entire continent.
The history of The Reach can be traced back to the legendary King of The Reach from the Age of Heroes — Garth Greenhand. Legend has it that Garth Greenhand was a supreme king who led the first men across the Arm of Dorne.
The wide plains and hills were covered with colorful flowers. They were scattered across the mountains and grasslands, emitting a charming fragrance.
Some flowers were as delicate as roses, with intertwined colors of red, pink, and white, giving a feeling of softness and warmth; some flowers were as magnificent as peonies, blooming proudly, displaying nobility and solemnity; others were as blue as the sky, with fresh, white petals dancing gently, giving a feeling of coolness and comfort.
These flowers were each unique, shining upon one another, surrounded by purples and reds. And between the flowers, it was covered with dense grasslands. The grass on the grassland was lush and full of vitality. The dark green blades of grass swayed gently in the breeze, like the hair of the earth, adding a touch of vitality to nature.
The grassland was also dotted with various inconspicuous wildflowers; small, delicate blue ones swayed with the wind, small yellow flowers lit up the earth like sunshine, and purple flowers exuded a mysterious atmosphere.
These flowers and green grass intertwined, jointly composing a magnificent chapter of nature. It also made people think of the house words of the Highgarden rose, House Tyrell:
Growing Strong.
Under the prayers of the High Septon, Renly Baratheon and Margaery Tyrell began to draw closer.
'You are mine, and I am yours,' Renly Baratheon said.
'You are mine, and I am yours,' Margaery Tyrell said.
Renly Baratheon was tall and handsome, with black hair falling straight to his shoulders.
Margaery Tyrell had a slender figure, a sweet appearance, and brown curly hair lazily draped over her shoulders.
The two snuggled together, making people sigh at their talent and beauty, a match made in heaven.
Although Renly Baratheon married Margaery Tyrell, his heart was deeply in love with the "Knight of Flowers," Loras Tyrell.
Mace Tyrell, Warden of the South, looked at Renly Baratheon standing with his daughter and thought: 'He really looks just like Robert.'
Renly Baratheon's crown was designed with hollowed-out gold patterns, featuring both the galloping stag of House Baratheon and various petals of House Tyrell.
This represented that the two families were inseparable, sharing blessings and misfortunes, honor and disgrace.
'The ceremony is complete!'
With the Septon's announcement that the ceremony was complete, everyone's hearts were finally set at ease.
House Florent, House Fossoway, House Hightower, House Merryweather, House Mullendore, House Oakheart, House Redwyne, House Rowan, House Tarly, and others from The Reach.
House Errol, House Morrigen, House Selmy, House Swann, House Tarth, and others from The Stormlands.
All knelt down, paying homage to their king, Renly Baratheon.
'Long live the King!'
'Long live the King!'
'Long live the King!'
The crowds covering the mountains and plains were more numerous than the flowers, all shouting long live to their king.
For the nobles of The Reach and The Stormlands, supporting Renly Baratheon was actually a huge gamble.
Because they had no legitimate cause, and even Renly Baratheon's brother, Stannis Baratheon on Dragonstone, was still claiming the title of the legitimate king.
For them, even if Joffrey was truly a bastard, it had nothing to do with them in terms of succession rights.
But this also showed Renly Baratheon's excellent personal charm and influence; even without the right of succession, and even being considered a usurper.
Renly Baratheon just smiled slightly, raised his arms, and gathered an army of one hundred thousand in The Reach and The Stormlands.
Among them, The Reach accounted for more than seventy thousand, and The Stormlands accounted for nearly thirty thousand.
Suddenly, he surpassed the other people who had declared themselves kings. His military strength was now the largest in all of Westeros; whoever he helped would win.
This also showed just how rich and powerful The Reach was. Although its wealth could not compare to the gold-producing Westerlands, the lords and knights under their command far exceeded those of the Westerlands.
The North.
In Riverrun.
'No! I disagree, we absolutely cannot negotiate!'
'Yes! The blood of Lord Stark must be avenged with the blood of the Lannisters!'
'I will never acknowledge that bastard of House Lannister on the iron throne!'
'I shared a bed and had children with your Lord Stark. I ask myself that my love for Ned is no less than any of you here, but my old Ned is already dead. I don't want to lose any more family members. I just want to get my two daughters back now.'
Looking at the indignant lords and knights of the North and the Riverlands in the meeting hall, Catelyn Tully pleaded with tears in her eyes; she could no longer accept the loss of any more relatives.
But just as Catelyn Tully feared, this group of Northern and Riverlands nobles would absolutely not agree to negotiations; their own relatives had also died in the war.
Rickard Karstark had three sons in total, one of whom was captured by a mercenary knight of the Westerlands Lannisters at the Battle of the Green Fork, and two were killed by the "kingslayer," Jaime Lannister, at the Battle of the Whispering Wood.
How was his blood debt to be repaid?
The father of Karyl Vance, Lord Vance, died heroically in the Battle of the Golden Tooth, and even his body was mangled.
The Pinkmaiden of House Vance was also slaughtered and burned by the Lannister army.
Stone Hedge of House Bracken was occupied for a long time by that mad dog, "The Mountain" Gregor Clegane, who killed and burned, committing all sorts of crimes.
The blood debts left by the Lannisters were countless.
For them, blood debts must be paid in blood!
Even the eldest son of Eddard Stark and Catelyn Tully, the "young wolf," Robb Stark, did not want to make peace. He believed that the war had reached a point where there was no need for peace talks.
Just as the atmosphere in the Great Hall of Riverrun was heavy and the discussion of everyone's opinions was at a stalemate.
Greatjon Umber suddenly stood up and shouted:
'I don't know anything about the damn iron throne! The only one I acknowledge in my life is the King in the North!'
Having said that, Greatjon Umber was the first to draw his longsword, leaning on it with the tip on the ground, and knelt down.
This was the supreme respect that the vassals of the North had for the King in the North before Aegon the Conqueror arrived three hundred years ago.
One person rose, and the crowd followed. Most of these knights were already white-haired and elderly.
But their eyes emitted a blazing light; this was a belief, a belief in the Stark family of the North.
Greatjon Umber, Rickard Karstark, Maege Mormont, House Blaywood, House Bracken, House Mallister, House Piper, House Glover, and other families all knelt down. Even the little boy from House Darry, Lyman Darry, followed the crowd and knelt down with a serious face.
I don't know who stood up first, but suddenly everyone stood up.
They puffed out their chests, their eyes fervent.
They raised their longswords high and shouted loudly —
'King in the North!'
'King in the North!'
'King in the North!'
The "young wolf," Robb Stark, looked at this passionate scene, and the sadness in his heart turned into courage and emotion.
His father, Eddard Stark, was dead, and he needed to kill the murderer and avenge his father!
The only tool he had to negotiate with the Lannisters was the sharp sword in his hand!
'Everyone, Robb Stark thanks you here!'
The West.
In Casterly Rock.
'Otherwise, we can just exchange Jaime for Sansa Stark and Arya Stark.'
'Will the North agree to such a losing deal?'
'Hard to say...'
'I think it's possible they might agree.'
The hall was full of noisy discussions; after all, no one really wanted to fight, and everyone wanted to negotiate peace quickly.
'Impossible. Unless the people of the North are crazy, they would never trade the "kingslayer," Jaime Lannister, for the lives of two little girls. Besides, we only have one in our hands; if they check, our bluff will be exposed.'
Ser Addam Marbrand said with a frown; he was Jaime Lannister's childhood playmate and friend.
Although he really wanted to save Jaime, he didn't think that a single Sansa Stark would be enough for an exchange.
Tywin Lannister, sitting in the first seat, had been silent from the beginning. He seemed to have aged a dozen years.
Since Eddard Stark was poisoned to death right under his nose, any possibility of peace talks with the North was completely gone.
He didn't even know if his son, Jaime Lannister, would return alive. This was the hope of half his life.
After a long silence, Tywin Lannister looked at everyone's helpless appearance, and he finally made a decision.
Tywin Lannister first dismissed everyone, then turned to his only remaining younger son, Tyrion Lannister, and said:
'Tyrion, my son. From now on, you will represent me as the hand of the king in King's Landing and participate in the Small Council.'
Just after hearing this, Tyrion Lannister was flattered. From childhood to adulthood, he had never heard his father say such things to him. He asked:
'Father, why are you suddenly so good to me?'
Tywin Lannister looked deeply into Tyrion's black and green eyes and said: 'Because you are my son.'
However, this sentence made Tyrion Lannister realize immediately. He gritted his teeth and roared at his father, Tywin:
'What do you mean by this! Don't you want Jaime anymore? You want to abandon him, don't you!'
For his father Tywin Lannister's sudden warmth, Tyrion Lannister did not feel any joy or emotion; instead, he slammed the table hard and flew into a rage.
Tyrion knew what this meant; it meant his father was going to cut off his arm to save his life; he wanted to abandon his brother, Jaime Lannister!
In Tyrion's heart, his brother, Jaime Lannister, was always in the first place.
Although Tyrion Lannister was a small dwarf who killed his mother at birth, and although his father, Tywin Lannister, and his sister, Cersei Lannister, both wished they could kill him with their own hands.
But his brother, Jaime Lannister, still gave him all the love a brother could give.
'To hell with the damn hand of the king! To hell with the damn Small Council! I just want my brother Jaime!'
Tywin Lannister looked at his son Tyrion Lannister's furious appearance and remained silent for a long time. If it weren't for the current situation, he really wouldn't want to let Tyrion go to King's Landing to represent him.
'Tyrion, my son, take my order and go to King's Landing. Help me manage Cersei and her precious son well.'
'As for Jaime, let's think of another way.'