The ancient books of Asshai prophesy: After the long summer, the stars bleed, and the cold darkness will shroud the world. Azor Ahai will be reborn in the land of smoke and salt, and will awaken the dragons from stone.
The night air was cool, the long summer passing.
The stars bled, the waning moon shed tears.
In the holy city of Vaes Dothrak.
"My sun and stars, the sun of my life, I have come to find you."
Daenerys Targaryen wept, her tears dripping onto the ground, splashing into shallow puddles.
They soon turned into slightly salty brine, evaporated by the flames, leaving only tiny grains behind.
She held the three dragon eggs and walked slowly toward the roaring, smoke-billowing pyre.
Bound atop the high pyre was a short, bloodied old woman—the Sorceress Mirri Maz Duur who had killed Khal Drogo.
Mirri Maz Duur mocked, "Your man is dead, and your child is dead too. Hahaha, do you know how long I have waited for this day? Nearly a year!"
Her smile was hideous, appearing insane, clearly having paved her own way to death.
"My people will remember me! I have avenged them!"
Daenerys Targaryen ignored Mirri Maz Duur's mockery; her gaze was fixed straight upon her sun, her Khal Drogo.
Along the way, the Dothraki who had chosen to follow her all prostrated themselves on the ground, calling out loudly: "khaleesi!"
Jorah Mormont kept his eyes tightly shut, kneeling on the ground to pray for his queen, Daenerys Targaryen.
As Daenerys Targaryen stepped into the burning pyre, the already fierce flames became even more turbulent.
Everyone heard only the whooshing sound of the wind blowing the flames, the crackling of the burning firewood, and the heart-wrenching screams of Mirri Maz Duur.
They knelt where they were, watching intently, waiting for a miracle.
"Forgive me, Aegon. I must go to find my sun and stars; the mission of restoring the Targaryen line is left to you."
...
In the Blackwater Rush.
Gradually, the flames began to dissipate, and Joffrey felt his body growing weary.
Especially after touching the splashing river water, he became even weaker.
"Is this the feeling of exhaustion?"
Joffrey stood on the ship, panting heavily, swinging his warhammer incessantly to deal with the swarming naval forces of Stannis.
He thought to himself: Hold on, the combined forces of Lannister and Tyrell will arrive soon.
Joffrey knew clearly that even if the wildfire had burned up Stannis's fleet, the forces in King's Landing could not handle Stannis's cavalry and infantry that had already crossed the Blackwater Rush.
The power of a mortal is ultimately limited. Although Joffrey possessed the strength of ten thousand, what about fifty thousand? What about one hundred thousand?
Stannis's navy was vast in number; even Joffrey, with his inexhaustible stamina, could not escape unscathed, let alone now when Joffrey's stamina was rapidly declining.
Just as Joffrey's stamina was severely depleted and he was becoming lightheaded, a long spear struck him from behind, from the side.
Caught off guard, Joffrey was knocked off the deck and fell into the turbulent river water.
"Is this where it ends? I am truly unwilling to accept this."
Joffrey watched as he moved further away from the surface, sinking to the bottom of the sea. He only felt the bone-chilling seawater engulf his body, and endless darkness concealing his soul.
He felt reluctance and regret in his heart.
"So I am also this afraid of death..."
...
Legend has it that there were originally two moons in the sky. The second moon got too close to the sun and was baked by the high heat until it exploded, sending countless giant dragons flying out from within, and the scattered fragments were melted and reborn by the sun.
Daenerys Targaryen said Khal Drogo was her sun and stars; Khal Drogo said Daenerys Targaryen was the moon of his life.
Daenerys Targaryen approaching Khal Drogo was like the moon approaching the sun, thereby releasing the three dragons from the fossilized eggs, eventually melted and reborn by the sun...
As time passed, the wood in the massive pyre burned and turned to ash, releasing all its energy and heat.
Slowly, the firewood began to burst with bright, dazzling sparks. The sparks leaped and danced like fireworks, infusing the entire area with vibrant vitality.
Subsequently, the flames leaped high, forming the majestic shape of a longsword made of roaring fire.
The firelight danced, and the burning flame sword slashed out toward the dark sky.
The billowing smoke from the slash converged and merged, gradually forming a flying dragon made of black smoke.
Just as people were feeling terrified by this eerie scene, a few low roars of an unknown animal emanated from the flames.
Under the devout gaze of the crowd, a figure walked out from the ashes.
Daenerys Targaryen was completely naked, wearing not a stitch of clothing. Her beautiful body was dyed gray-black by the ash, but her exquisite skin remained unscathed.
Even more eye-catching were the three creatures in her arms that were both familiar and frightening, existing only in historical legends.
They had long, snake-like bodies, massive scales covering their bodies, and a pair of broad wings.
They possessed sharp horns, pointed claws, and strong teeth. Their eyes were bright and piercing, radiating the majesty of the true dragon.
Dragons! These are dragons! These are the long-extinct dragons!
Everyone present prostrated themselves on the ground with fanatical expressions, paying homage to her.
"Blood of my blood."
"Blood of my blood."
"..."
Behind her, a massive red comet streaked across the night sky, bright as blood, dazzling, honestly declaring its arrival to the world...
The three hatchlings sucked on her milk, just like children snuggling in a mother's embrace.
From then on, the true dragon had returned, and she was the Mother of Dragons.
...
In the Blackwater Rush.
At this very moment, a dazzling light suddenly pierced the long night. A red comet streaked rapidly across the pitch-black night sky, and countless living beings excitedly raised their heads to pay homage to that comet.
They only felt the blood in their bodies suddenly surging at this instant, and they unconsciously let out huge, hoarse roars. Magic had awakened!
"Are you giving up just like that, boy?" At the same time, the mocking voice of the red god, rhllor, echoed in Joffrey's mind.
"No! I absolutely cannot die!! I still have people to protect, I still have someone I love deeply. She is still waiting for me to return!!" Joffrey Baratheon opened his eyes, and within them, endless flames seemed to be raging.
He finally made up his mind and said to rhllor, word for word— "rhllor, I accept your offer! Give your power to me!"
"Hahahaha! Joffrey, I truly did not misjudge you! Go! Let this world be turned upside down in my name!"
As soon as he finished speaking, Joffrey let go of his spirit; he felt a violent, restless energy surge into his heart.
Following that was an excruciating, bone-deep pain. He gritted his teeth, his whole body trembling uncontrollably.
After an unknown amount of time, the pain ceased. He felt a heat flow boiling and circulating from his heart throughout his entire body.
He knew his heart had changed, replaced by a peerless heart of a god. From now on, all the flames in this world would honor him as their master, honor him as their king!
"Joffrey Baratheon, although I can grant you a portion of divine power, ultimately, it is this fire that has made you. Remember: as long as you are amidst the flames, no one in this world can hold you!"
Once the stars fall, the winds and clouds change; burning the rivers and boiling the seas, sweeping across the horizon!
...
"The false king is dead! Surrender now!"
"The false king is dead! Surrender quickly!"
"..."
A rare smile appeared on Stannis Baratheon's stern face, developing from a faint smile into a hearty laugh. Now he didn't need to rack his brains to prove whether those children were bastards or not.
He was sure to win!
"Why does Your Majesty laugh?"
"Hahahaha, I laugh at Tywin for his lack of strategy! And Tyrion for his lack of wisdom!"
Hearing this straight man's line from Davos Seaworth, the Onion Knight, Stannis was even more pleased.
But then he felt a chill down his spine. He didn't know why, but he suddenly had an ominous premonition, and this feeling grew increasingly strong!
Just then, Stannis felt his ship shaking incessantly, and with great intensity.
Could it be the waves? Then he realized something was wrong, because he vaguely saw the sea surface in the distance looking as if it had been evaporated, emitting large patches of steam.
Stannis Baratheon's mouth hung open in terror. Upon seeing the scene below, he couldn't help but mutter: "Oh, fuck."
"Flame Emperor!!!!" A majestic and powerful roar echoed across the battlefield. In an instant, the winds and clouds shifted, brilliance blazed forth, and the very heavens and earth lost their color.
In a flash, a thick, scorching pillar of fire from the Flame Ring erupted from the depths of the sea, shooting straight into the heavens!
Nearby warships were instantly shattered and destroyed by the flames; the boundless sea was evaporated and sent boiling by the intense heat, churning up monstrous waves.
Subsequently, several massive, spiral-shaped rings of fire appeared, swirling and condensing into a fire tornado that soared into the sky!
The raging flames released by the Flame Ring lingered, circling Joffrey's body as if paying homage to their king.
Stannis Baratheon watched from afar at the figure bathed in fire, stunned.
He could no longer tell if Joffrey was the legitimate heir with the blood of the true dragon, or a despicable bastard who was the reincarnation of the red god.
"Kill him! Quickly!" Stannis Baratheon roared hysterically; he was truly terrified.
He had always considered himself Azor Ahai, the lightbringer of rhllor, the red god, in the mortal world, but damn it, he had actually encountered the real thing! What the hell! Stannis wanted to cry but had no tears.
Amidst their astonishment, the soldiers hurriedly obeyed, drawing their bows and raining arrows upon Joffrey, only to see Joffrey suddenly wave his right hand, conjuring a wall of fire that covered the sky.
Flame Command! The arrows turned to ash the instant they touched the high-temperature wall of fire, unable to cause him the slightest harm.
He wore a robe of fire, golden threads fluttering. Holding raging fire in his hand, stepping upon clouds of flame. He traversed the battlefield, his aura overwhelming the mountains and rivers.
For a moment, the entire field was stunned, witnessing the birth of a god.
Everyone saw him as if he had transcended the mortal realm, ascending to immortality. The heavens and earth existed alongside him, and all things were one with him.
"Zhurong, god of fire, rides upon a dragon carriage in the clouds. Controlling the crimson light, holding the essence of the sun. Paired with the Flame Emperor, ranked in the south." — — "Annotation of the Classic of Mountains and Seas Illustrated"
"Hahahahahaha!!!!" A free-spirited, unbridled laugh erupted from Joffrey Baratheon's mouth:
"rhllor! I have ascended to godhood!"
As soon as the words left his lips, the surrounding air seemed to solidify, and a heavy pressure tightened the throats of everyone present.
...
Meanwhile, not far from the battlefield, Thoros of Myr of the Brotherhood Without Banners watched this power capable of destroying the heavens and the earth. He raised the banner of the Flaming Heart high and shouted aloud:
"The long night is dark and full of terrors. the red god has descended, and the light returns!!"
Beside Thoros, Beric Dondarrion noticed that the body of the envoy of rhllor, the red god—Kings Hand Ragu—was slowly turning into flames from the feet up, gradually drifting toward the battlefield.
"Envoy, you..." Beric Dondarrion asked, astonished.
"Do not worry. I am but an avatar of my lord, rhllor, and now I am merely returning to the embrace of my lord, rhllor, for a time." Kings Hand Ragu stroked his beard and smiled.
As Ragu was about to disappear completely, he instructed Beric Dondarrion:
"Beric, remember: The lightbringer of Azor Ahai is being forged within your body. It will require seven reforgings and three temperings to be completed. Now, only the final reforging remains..."
Having said that, his entire being slowly turned into sparks of fire and vanished.
Hearing the final words of the envoy Ragu, Ser Beric Dondarrion fell into deep thought.
Because he had already died and been resurrected six times.
Would the seventh reforging be his death?
...
On the battlefield, Sandor Clegane watched this scene, which only existed in legends, and felt a moment of daze. He stared blankly and slowly muttered: "Oh, fuck me."
"Cross Fire!"
Joffrey fired a medium-to-long-range, cross-shaped flame from his hands. The attack was swift and precise; a single strike incinerated all of Stannis's archers on the shore, and the residual power of the fiery explosion nearly killed Stannis Baratheon on the spot.
Subsequently, Joffrey turned around and cast his gaze toward Stannis Baratheon, who was standing on a warship not far away, his body burning with flames.
"Retreat! All forces retreat!"
Stannis Baratheon patted out the flames on his body; seeing that the situation was dire, he immediately ordered the entire army to retreat.
He wanted to rush back to camp to find the red priestess Melisandre and have her deal with Joffrey, because in his view, only magic could defeat magic.
However, just as Stannis was boarding a ship to retreat, a massive, sturdy iron chain suddenly appeared before him, firmly blocking his escape route.
This was the secret weapon Tyrion Lannister had prepared to deal with him: the Great Chain!
"Fire Fist!!!!"
A roar shook the heavens and earth, making them hum, and the surrounding air emitted a series of piercing sounds as if it were shattering glass.
Seeing the flame Joffrey had gathered in his clenched right hand about to fly toward him, Stannis surprisingly made no move.
He felt a sense of despair; he never expected such a thing to happen. The situation, which had been a certain victory, had actually reversed.
What the hell! How could there still be such a thing as a god in this world!
"Your Grace! Get out of here!"
At the critical moment, Davos Seaworth, the Onion Knight, forced himself to stay calm. He rushed toward Stannis Baratheon with all his might and tackled Stannis off the ship, both of them falling into the surging sea...
The next moment, boundless flames, entwined with a storm, instantly engulfed the entire sea surface like a blazing sun, unstoppable.
After the attack, Stannis's mighty fleet was completely destroyed. The stag banners hanging from the ships were swallowed by the flames and burned to nothing. Countless commanders and soldiers wailed to the heavens, and most of them were reduced to ash in an instant.
The remaining survivors, their bodies also burning with flames, scrambled to jump into the boundless sea.
"Burning, burning, the stag is burning." Patchface sang on Dragonstone.
...
Just as the soldiers of Stannis's army on the shore felt panicked because the fate of their commander was unknown, a large group of cavalry suddenly charged out from their rear.
The cavalry was disciplined and murderous, charging straight toward them.
As they drew closer, the soldiers realized with horror that the armor worn by the leader of this cavalry was actually that of Renly Baratheon, who had died the previous month!
In an instant, everyone's faces were filled with terror, and their hearts began to pound wildly.
Especially the knights who had immediately changed allegiances to join Stannis's army after Renly's death; they trembled all over, threw down their weapons, and screamed like madmen — —
"Renly's ghost has returned!"
"Renly's ghost has returned for revenge!"
"..."
For a time, the battlefield was in chaos, and the army was completely thrown into disarray. Many directly threw down their weapons and ran about in panic.
As Garlan Tyrell, wearing Renly Baratheon's armor, swung his longsword and charged into the fray, the outcome of the war was already decided.
When the first ray of morning sunlight pierced the veil of night, the sky gradually turned from darkness to a pale blue. The flickering stars in the sky slowly faded, leaving space for the sun's arrival.
Gradually, a touch of orange-red appeared on the horizon, like applied paint, staining the earth with a hint of warmth. The sun slowly revealed its face, rising gradually like a fireball, radiating endless power and warmth.
Sunlight pierced through the clouds, spilling onto the battlefield where the war had just ended, bringing vitality and life to every leaf and blade of grass beneath the ashes.
Wildfire cannot destroy it; the spring breeze will make it grow again.
As long as there is a chance to breathe, these green lives will flourish once again.
A gentle breeze blew, brushing softly against their cheeks.
Everyone on the battlefield fell silent. They raised their heads to gaze at this dawn full of life and hope. Their eyes were already so tired they could barely keep them open, and their hands could no longer grip any weapons.
Yet their faces were filled with smiles, for they had won.
In this war concerning the survival of the nation, the soldiers had experienced a night of life-and-death struggle. Who knows how many had died, and how many had lost their loved ones.
In the end, the iron throne, represented by Joffrey Baratheon, achieved the final victory, while Stannis Baratheon of Dragonstone fell into the sea, his fate unknown.