143: Chapter 143 Dawn - Fleet Deployment

Morning mist permeated the sea surface. It was not a light mist—it was a thick fog rising from the confluence of the warm Blackwater River current and the cold ocean water, wrapping the entire estuary in a grey-white Chaos.

The lighthouse firelight turned into a blurry orange halo in the fog, unable to illuminate the sea surface a hundred meters away.

The Dragonstone fleet sailed out slowly through the fog.

The flagship "dragonstone" was in the center—a three-deck Westeros battleship. The bow was fitted with a newly cast ram from the Dragonstone smithy, engraved with a three-headed Dragon relief, with two non-luminous pieces of obsidian embedded in the dragon's eyes.

On the left and right sides were the main transport ships of the Unsullied and the fast sailing ships of the Dothraki Cavalry. The sails were newly embroidered with the three-headed Dragon flag—the red of the flag was dyed with volcanic mud from Dragonstone, darker than the dye of the old flags, but more resistant to sea wind erosion.

The cleared shipping lanes marked out dark waterways in the fog.

The wreckage of the Braavos mercenary fleet had been pushed to both sides of the shipping lane, with several charred masts slanted into the water, the tops of which still hung with the Braavos Iron Bank debt flags, shredded by the sea wind.

Fragments of charred ship hulls occasionally drifted across the sea surface, striking the hull of the "dragonstone" with a dull thud.

Daenerys stood at the bow of the "dragonstone".

She was dressed in black Dragon scale armor—each scale was forged from a mixture of Drogon's shed old scales and valyrian steel.

The Aegon crown shimmered in the morning mist with the unique dark luster of valyrian steel. The red light of the sixth gemstone was almost invisible in the fog, but the position of the seventh obsidian was surprisingly clear in the mist—the obsidian did not emit light, but it absorbed the scattered light of the fog, forming a very deep, dark purple outline on the crown ring.

Her purple eyes stared through the mist at what lay ahead—the outline of King's Landing was already looming in the fog.

The tips of the Red Keep towers pierced through the fog layer, glowing with the natural dark red sandstone color in the morning light.

Jorah was at her side. His voice was low but clear.

"There are about twenty ballistae still usable on the walls of King's Landing. After the last engagement with the Enforcement Squad, the Gold Cloaks repaired some of them overnight—but what is loaded in the arrow slots is no longer iron arrows quenched in wildfire, but ordinary iron arrows. Qyburn's wildfire stockpile was frozen by Drogon last night, so wildfire arrows can no longer be loaded."

Barristan Selmy stood beside Jorah. He wore white armor and had a white beard, with the longsword he had carried during his time in the Kingsguard hanging at his waist. His voice was old but extremely steady.

"The Young Wolf and the Northern coalition are already on their way south. If King's Landing is taken today—the Northern reinforcements can arrive at King's Landing within three days, and then head north with the main force."

Daenerys did not turn her head. Her purple eyes remained fixed on the direction of King's Landing.

"Attack King's Landing first today. The northward movement is already arranged—Ser Jorah, relay my order to Rhaegal and Viserion: suppress the ballistae on the walls first. After suppression, do not pursue the routed troops; save the firepower for the infantry on the beachhead."

"The Unsullied will lead the main attack on the East Gate. The White Mane cavalry will cut in from the direction of Flea Bottom on the south side, cutting off the Gold Cloaks' route to reinforce the walls from the Red Keep. Drogon—he is in the north of the city. He will only freeze the flags today. He will not burn the city."

Above the walls of King's Landing. After dawn.

Rhaegal and Viserion simultaneously dove down from the low-hanging morning mist.

Rhaegal's emerald scales shimmered with a bronze-like metallic luster in the morning light—it was larger than before the siege, and its wingspan was already approaching the size of Drogon before his Bloodline Breakthrough.

The Dragon wings were fully extended during the dive, and as the wingtips tore through the fog, they pulled out two white-hot shockwaves. When the shockwaves swept over the battlements, they knocked several loose Lion flags from their flagpoles.

Viserion's milky white scales almost blended into the morning mist—when it burst out of the fog, its golden eyes lit up even before the Dragon Flame, like two golden coals suddenly ignited in the fog.

The two Dragons crossed over the top of the East Wall.

The Dragon Breath was not a linear blast—it was the fan-shaped, spreading breath of the Ancient Valyrian Dragon Magic · Sky-Burning Breath. The Dragon Flame, interwoven with emerald green and golden orange, swept from the west end of the wall to the east end, swallowing a dozen ballistae mounts and the loaders together.

There were no chain explosions of wildfire—only the conventional light of dry oak and iron burning in the Dragon Flame. The oak mounts burned dark red, and the iron parts burned bright orange; the two types of light intertwined, looking from a distance like a fire snake lying on the wall.

The Gold Cloak ballista operators had never seen Dragon Flame.

During the Battle of the Blackwater, they faced wildfire—cold green fire that burned with a sweet, cloying, burnt smell. When the Enforcement Squad besieged the city, they faced the space tearing of the Chronos Dragon—a silent cutting that left no time even for screaming.

This was their first time facing the pure Dragon Breath of the Ancient Valyrian Dragon—orange-red flames, with a sulfurous smell and the dryness of volcanic ash. It hurt just like ordinary flames when burning on the body, but the temperature was much higher. The armor turned red directly in the Dragon Flame, and the iron rings of the chainmail melted into iron droplets that dripped onto the wall.

Most people jumped off the wall to survive. Those who jumped fell onto the Blackwater River mudflats at the foot of the wall, and those who didn't die dragged their broken legs and crawled into the city. Those who didn't jump were swept down by the Dragon Flame.

Rhaegal pulled up after the dive.

When the Dragon wings flapped against the air during the pull-up, they emitted a loud blast—a sonic boom. The emerald Dragon shadow soared into the sky amidst the white shockwave ring of the sonic boom, emitting a clear and resonant Dragon roar.

The Dragon roar contained a very clear sense of hunting satisfaction—not the satisfaction of slaughter, but the pure predatory pleasure of a hunter pursuing prey. Its green eyes looked back at the burning ballistae wreckage on the wall, performed a side flip in the air, and readjusted its diving angle.

Viserion circled to Rhaegal's flank. It did not breathe Dragon Breath—it used its Dragon tail to sweep a Lion flag that had not yet caught fire off the flagpole. The bone-white tail whip struck the middle of the flagpole precisely; the flagpole snapped in half, and the upper half, with the burning flag surface, drifted down into the Blackwater River below the wall. The Lion flag flipped a few times in the river water, the Lion pattern was blurred by water bubbles, and it sank into the mud at the bottom of the river.

East Gate. After dawn.

After the Gold Cloaks routed, the iron gate was left unmanned. The surviving ballista operators on the wall had been suppressed by Rhaegal and Viserion's Dragon Flame and could not lift their heads. When the Gold Cloak defenders inside the wall heard the Dragon roar, they began to flee into the city—they were not afraid of the Dragons, but of the Unsullied spear phalanx that followed behind the Dragons. Veterans who had participated in the Battle of the Blackwater all knew that the Dragons were the opening, and the infantry was the finale.

Grey Worm led the first wave of the Unsullied from the bunkers under the wall to the front of the city gate. Three thousand Unsullied formed three columns, shields in front, spears in back, their steps as orderly as a machine shared by three thousand people.

The battering ram was a hundred-year-old oak reinforced with iron hoops—taken from the keel of the old Dragonstone shipyard, with a newly cast iron hammerhead from the Dragonstone smithy fitted at the front. Forty Unsullied carried the battering ram on their shoulders and exerted force simultaneously under Grey Worm's command.

The first impact. The iron hammer smashed against the iron gate, and the iron gate dented inward by the depth of a fist. Rust and gravel fell rustling from above the gate.

The third impact. The rivets in the center of the iron gate began to loosen. When the rivets popped out, they brought a sharp metallic screech, flying out and pinning into the stone wall on the inside of the city gate.

The sixth impact. The iron gate split open from the middle.

The hundred-year-old oak battering ram emitted a dull, loud thud the moment it cracked the iron gate—not the sound of iron, but the deep vibration of the wood's fibers themselves under extreme impact. The edges of the iron gate's tear were jagged, as if the iron sheet had been ripped open from the middle by a giant.

Grey Worm raised his spear.

Three thousand Unsullied entered combat stance simultaneously—shields raised, spears tilted forward, their pace switching from a marching rhythm to an assault rhythm.

They poured into the city gate through the crack in the iron gate, spears like a forest, spreading out along the inside of the wall to both sides to clear out the remaining scattered city defense troops. The Unsullied did not attack routed troops without weapons—the operational regulations did not include killing those who surrendered. If someone threw down their sword and raised their hands against the wall, the Unsullied would bypass them and continue to advance.

White Mane led eight hundred Dothraki Cavalry to cut in from the direction of Flea Bottom on the south side.

The residents of Flea Bottom had moved away the broken wooden crates and old fishing nets at the alley entrances last night—they did not participate in the siege, but they had actively cleared every alleyway from the city gate to the Red Keep for the Dothraki Cavalry.

A child from Flea Bottom squatted on a wooden crate at the alley entrance, pointing his finger toward Blacksmith's Street to guide the cavalry. He was still holding a valyrian steel dagger picked up from the Dragonborn Knight last time—the sword was too big, and he could barely lift it by holding the hilt with both hands, but his direction was very accurate.

White Mane's dragon-kiss sword was already unsheathed. The dark red rapier tassel on the old scabbard fluttered in the morning light—the red thread was particularly striking against the black silk scarf, but she did not change it.

She said she would use it for three days, so she would use it for three days. The armory black leather had been soaked in oil for two days, and it would take another day before it could be used. She spurred her horse and charged at the very front of the cavalry, her silver-white braids flying in the charge, the temperature of the Brand on the back of her neck steady and warm—not calm, but extreme focus in battle.

She ordered the Dothraki centurion beside her. Her voice pierced through the sound of hoofbeats and battle cries.

"The Gold Cloaks are fleeing in two directions—one route toward the main gate of the Red Keep, and one route toward the ruins of the Great Sept of Baelor. Chase the one toward the Red Keep main gate first. Leave the Sept ruins to the Unsullied."

Eight hundred Dothraki Cavalry whistled in unison. Their scimitars reflected a cold, scale-like light in the morning sun—not the dark gold of Dragon scales, but the crescent-shaped forging patterns on the blades being cut by the sunlight into countless fine silver lines. The cobblestone road of Blacksmith's Street emitted dense clattering sounds under the horses' hooves, surging toward the main gate of the Red Keep like a tidal wave.