-Chapter 218-

-Chapter 218-

-POV Samwell Tarly-

I observed Melisandre, standing on her chariot, calmly gazing at the sky, waiting to see the Emperor or the Prince appear on his dragon, but it was all in vain.

Time passed, and the sky remained hopelessly empty.

‘In a few hours, the sun will rise. If she’s made the mistake of taking her desires and dreams for reality...’ I thought, without finishing my sentence, knowing it was fatigue and the death of my father that made me so tense.

“If that madwoman lied to us, I’ll impale her on a spike myself,” Jonothor said, furious to have been woken after yesterday’s exhausting battle to wait in vain...

‘Some kind of miracle,’ I thought, for that was all we were hoping for at this moment.

A miracle that could put an end to this devastating war.

“She didn’t lie to us,” Trystan said confidently, the only one managing to keep his composure despite everything that had happened since the day before yesterday.

“How can you know?” Jonothor asked aggressively, for we were all, after all, in the same camp.

“Jon,” I said firmly, trying to bring the blond giant back to order.

‘It’s fatigue and frustration talking,’ I thought, for we had suffered heavy losses and wasted too much time.

We couldn’t coordinate properly, which had stopped us from completing our counterattack while we still had the advantage, leaving them time to regroup in their camp, especially with their elephants.

Those would have been truly difficult to deal with given our level of exhaustion in open terrain.

“Because she’s staking her position too,” Trystan said, with a strange confidence in his words.

‘How does he know that?’ I wondered.

“What do you mean?” Corian asked next to us, visibly curious about the turn of this conversation.

“If you observe carefully, the High Priestess left during the night. She’s no longer among her followers,” Trystan said, nodding toward the group of chariots where the priestesses were gathered.

‘He’s right. I haven’t seen her since the battle,’ I realized now that he mentioned it.

I had been too busy with other matters to notice, but what he said was true.

‘Could she have betrayed us?’ I wondered, for the High Priest had already betrayed Princess Daenerys.

‘No, that wouldn’t make sense,’ I thought, for she would have been far more cunning about it.

It wouldn’t make sense for her to betray herself like that.

We wouldn’t leave our walls until Prince Viserys arrived, and if he was present, she couldn’t do anything against the might of his dragon.

‘These witches are giving me a headache,’ I thought, ultimately unable to fathom what went on in their minds.

“You think she fled?” Corian asked Trystan, who seemed to know far more than the rest of us.

“I think she has something else to do,” he said enigmatically.

‘What could be more important for these witches?’ I wondered before realizing what Trystan was hinting at.

“The Wall?!” I asked, surprised, for it was so obvious that it hadn’t crossed my mind.

I had been too focused on the war of the living, forgetting the one against the dead.

“Hmmm,” Trystan murmured, gently stroking his mount before adding, speaking of Melisandre, who had taken the lead of her red priestess sisters:

“I believe she’s next in line for the title of High Priestess, and this is her moment to prove herself.”

“But if her information is wrong...” Jonothor said, growling in frustration.

He still thought we were being led astray by the Red Witches.

“Well, we’ll just go back to bed,” Corian said, interrupting the blond giant with a smile.

He was more annoyed by the lack of sleep than anything else.

I rolled my eyes, not in the mood to laugh, unlike Corian.

Then I said:

“Either way, we have no choice. Since we don’t know anyone who can verify her information, we have to wait, because it could very well...”

DRAGON ROAR.

“She was right,” Jonothor said, overjoyed, realizing that we were about to shift from defense to offense, but more importantly...

‘The war is over, and we’ve won,’ I thought, unsheathing Corvenin and signaling the soldiers to open the gates of Pentos, all while watching a cream-colored, white-gold dragon dive rapidly from the sky like a falcon before spewing a torrent of flames into the enemy camp. 

---

-POV Viserys Targaryen-

“DRACARYS,” I shouted, incinerating the center of the massive camp of the Essosii coalition army, determined to reclaim its dominant position.

‘Not anymore. House Targaryen has returned, and so have the dragons,’ I thought, elated, watching Viserion reduce numerous tents to ashes before climbing higher into the sky.

‘That’s perfect, Viserion,’ I thought, gently patting the side of my dragon, guiding him to direct his fiery power toward my next target.

‘The palisades,’ I thought, pressing myself closer to my saddle to shield myself as much as possible from the biting wind rushing against me.

“DRACARYS,” I shouted, once we reached the wooden walls and defensive palisades arranged in an arc around the enemy camp.

‘They built these defenses to fend off a possible cavalry attack, but they didn’t account for our dragons,’ I thought, smiling, as I destroyed the efforts these slavers had spent countless moons constructing, reducing it all to ashes in moments.

One single pass from Viserion and me was all it took to obliterate the defensive palisades and the few wooden walls erected to section off parts of the camp.

‘Now, the elephants,’ I thought, spotting several makeshift pens hastily built to hold and feed the war elephants.

Just as I was about to attack these pens, a powerful horn sounded in the distance, catching me off guard.

‘That’s perfect,’ I thought, understanding that my actions wouldn’t go unanswered.

The Imperial Legion commanders weren’t about to sit idly by while I decimated the coalition’s ground forces.

But I hadn’t expected such a swift response.

‘Almost instant,’ I thought, watching several gates of Pentos open simultaneously, releasing the city’s Dark Guard into a determined and organized charge—a stark contrast to the utter chaos reigning in the enemy camp.

The fire had spread everywhere and was proving extremely difficult to extinguish.

‘If they dare try...,’ I thought, noting the absence of any attempt to contain the flames.

Trying to put out these fires would be suicidal.

They would become easy prey for our cavalry.

Panic had gripped the enemy camp.

Men fled in every direction, desperate to save their lives.

‘Cowards,’ I thought, giving Viserion a tap to guide him toward the elephant pens.

This was the last thing to do to secure total victory.

---

-POV Boqoro Maegyr-

Hearing the roar of a dragon, I woke up with a start, my heart pounding furiously.

I listened intently for a moment but heard nothing else.

Sighing, I closed my eyes, convincing myself it was just an illusion, a product of my mind, overwhelmed by the pressures of recent days.

‘We’d all be doomed if it were the...’

DRAGON ROAR.

That brief moment of calm did not last.

The next thing I heard were the screams of pain and terror from my men, followed by another dragon’s roar.

This roar was unlike that of a lion—powerful and strong.

No, this was the scream of death, high-pitched and much closer, shaking the very ground beneath me.

It was louder, more menacing, and more terrifying than I could have imagined.

Red and orange lights danced outside my tent, casting eerie shadows on its fabric.

‘We’re finished,’ I thought, grabbing my sword and armor in a frantic rush.

‘I can’t die now,’ I thought, my trembling hands struggling to complete movements I had done countless times since my youth.

‘Not after all I’ve managed to survive so far,’ I thought, finishing dressing and deciding to leave my tent to rally my men.

When I stepped outside, I realized with horror that the guards who were supposed to be stationed at my tent had fled long ago.

Chaos reigned.

Men were running in every direction, their reason gone, their only focus being survival.

“SOLDIERS!” I shouted, trying to restore some semblance of order.

“STOP!” I yelled again, hoping to form a small group and attempt a breakout.

I knew the Pentos legions would soon descend upon us, and my chances of survival were slim.

“SOLDIERS, I COMMAND YOU TO—”

I didn’t even have time to finish my sentence before a mercenary slammed into me, knocking me to the ground.

I recognized him as a former slave by the tattoo on his arm.

But instead of apologizing, as might have been expected in normal circumstances, he spat in my face.

“Get out of my way, you bastard!” he shouted, trampling me as he ran, madness gleaming in his eyes.

It was then I understood.

All the promises we had made, all the threats we had issued, all the fear we had instilled in our slave soldiers and the greed we had fed in our voluntary and mercenary troops—it no longer had any hold over them.

‘Of course, they’re more afraid of a dragon than a whip,’ I thought, disheartened, watching the utter disarray around me.

‘These aren’t Unsullied. They’re just men who want to live,’ I thought, understanding their terror. Long ago, a man like them had saved my life.

“BOQORO!”

Sitting dazed on the ground, I didn’t realize I was being pulled to my feet by Mydas until he shouted my name into my ear, snapping me out of my stupor.

I turned to him, surprised to see him here. Then he screamed: “IT’S COMING BACK!”

I followed the direction he was pointing and instantly understood.

Everyone was fleeing in a single direction, running from what was bearing down on us with unrelenting fury.

‘Death is coming for us,’ I thought, my heart sinking, as another dragon roar echoed nearby, louder, closer, more deafening.

DRAGON ROAR.