-Chapter 211-

-Chapter 211-

-POV Vynassa Vhassar-

"The men on the ramparts have changed," the leader of the army, composed of Braavosi mercenaries and peasants, told me.

I raised an eyebrow, not taking his observation seriously, as I already knew the exact number of the enemy army as well as the reinforcements that had come to their aid.

‘And it changes absolutely nothing, because we are still twice their number,’ I thought, confident in our victory, as we had been besieging this city for several moons now.

"We’ve lost many soldiers to these constant assaults. Perhaps we should change our tactics," said Braavos’s representative.

‘The lives of these slaves are worthless compared to the grandeur of Volantis,’ I thought, ignoring Qarro Volentin, the former First Sword of Braavos and now the leader of Braavos's ground army.

‘Even our slave soldiers could handle these peasants,’ I thought disdainfully.

I shook my head and said, determined to end this siege that had dragged on far too long:

"This siege has lasted long enough. We will finish this today."

"We haven’t eliminated more than 10,000 legionnaires since the start of this siege. What makes you think we can bring down Pentos’s walls today?"

"They are exhausted," I said, pointing to the walls where Westerosi peasant recruits stood. "They’re so worn out that they had to call on that bunch of peasants."

"I won’t risk losing my soldiers in a trap set by the enemy," Qarro Volentin replied coldly, shaking his head.

‘You don’t have a choice, fool,’ I thought, knowing that he didn’t even represent all of Braavos, only Ferrego Antaryon.

‘That old man refuses to die. Even after losing his power, he still manages to hinder his successor,’ I thought, scornful of Braavosi methods of conflict resolution.

"Fortunately, no one asked for your opinion, but remember this moment when Volantis claims Pentos and its surrounding territories," I said, knowing that only one thing mattered to these greedy bankers.

‘Profit,’ I concluded internally.

"Is that a threat?" the former First Sword asked, drawing his rapier.

I smiled, and as my guards all drew their sabers, ready to kill the insolent man, I said:

"I don’t need to threaten you. At your peak, you were nothing more than a glorified guard as Braavos’s First Sword. So now that you’ve lost that title…"

I didn’t need to finish my sentence. He knew where I was going with this. Tormo Fregar would never risk offending my cousin for the sake of this insignificant man, but the reverse was not true.

Qarro Volentin said nothing but scrutinized the people around us.

Each of them represented the highest command of our allied army.

Seeing that the majority sided with me, and especially remembering that the peasants and mercenaries Braavos had recruited for their "army" had suffered the most losses since the beginning of the siege, he eventually came to his senses.

He sheathed his rapier, not hiding his discontent, and then said:

"Very well, I’ll listen to you, even though I think it’s a complete waste of time. But since it’s your plan, only a third of the remaining soldiers will assault the city walls. Your men will have to fill the gap."

I nodded and shrugged, ready to launch the attack alone with the armies of our alliance.

Qarro Volentin didn’t stop there and added:

"If I’m right and this is a trap to make us lose more soldiers than they already have, I will take command of our forces. Is that clear?"

I frowned, understanding his scheme.

He wanted to force me to give my word, thus stripping me of my authority despite our advantageous position.

"As you wish," I said, nodding, confident that my victory over these peasants was beyond doubt.

‘His little schemes will amount to nothing once I’ve taken Pentos,’ I thought, unconcerned about the near future, certain that we had exhausted the Imperial legionnaires.

‘All that’s left are peasants. Our slave soldiers may be worth little, but they are trained to fight to the death. If not, we will kill their families.’

‘Once this war is over and won, we will position ourselves to dominate the Narrow Sea, absorb the Triarchy, and annex Pentos into our ranks, resurrecting the old Valyria of which we are the sole true heirs, regardless of what the Targaryens claim,’ I thought, eager to hear of the dragons' demise.

"TO THE ATTACK!" I shouted.

HORN BLOWS… HORN BLOWS… HORN BLOWS…

---

-POV Randyll Tarly-

A shiver ran down my spine as I saw the hundreds of thousands of besiegers advancing straight toward our walls, ready to kill us all. I turned to my second son, Dickon, and asked:

"Do you feel that?"

"What?" he asked, distracted, dazed by the rising tension of battle.

"Victory," I replied, calmly observing the final battle ahead.

"We haven’t even fought yet," said Dickon, trying his best to hide his fear.

‘It’s normal for him to be afraid,’ I thought. These weren’t wooden training swords from Ser Randolph he had to face.

‘But real blades aimed at slitting his throat,’ I added mentally, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"My son, you don’t have to hide your fear, and you don’t have to suppress it either, because it will save your life. It will give you the courage you need to defeat our enemies."

"We don’t even need to defeat them."

"Holding these walls all day with these green boys will already be a victory, believe me," I said, noticing that my "men" were nervous.

I gestured to Ser Corban, stationed below the ramparts. He shouted:

"ARCHERS, FIRE!"

The archers, who had been waiting eagerly, loosed their arrows.

With a long, successive whistle, I watched the arrows arc over the walls and strike the attackers farther back.

‘Perfect,’ I thought, seeing the arrows claim victims among the soldiers bearing Selhorys banners.

"Watch the ladders! Knock down the ones without clamps and use boiling water to halt their advance!" I roared, furious at seeing some captains lose focus.

My roar had the desired effect.

They quickly regained their composure and began implementing the battle plan we had devised together.

"SHOOT THE SIEGE WEAPONS!"

"IGNITE THE PROJECTILES… FIRE!" shouted the officer in charge of the catapults inside, tasked with breaking up the enemy rear lines.

I watched as a fiery rain of projectiles descended upon our foes, just seconds after a second volley of arrows.

A ladder slammed against the wall near me, and soon enough, slave soldiers began climbing it one by one.

One of my men tried to hurl a stone at the soldier leading the charge, but the man dodged just in time for the soldier behind him to shoot an arrow straight into my man’s neck. He dropped his stone and collapsed at my feet, blood pooling around him.

The emboldened enemy soldier doubled his efforts, but I didn’t give him the chance to set foot on the wall. With a precise thrust, I drove Corvenin into his throat.

"DEFEND THE WALLS WITH EVERYTHING YOU HAVE! FOR THE EMPEROR!" I bellowed.

"FOR THE EMPEROR!" came the resounding response from my men.

---

-POV Aegon Targaryen-

I sighed as I surveyed the enemy fleet still besieging Bloodstone Island.

‘This means Bloodstone hasn’t completely fallen, although I doubt there are many soldiers left alive,’ I thought, noticing the large number of sailors who had disembarked.

They were attempting to breach Bloodstone’s new fort, hacking at the gates with axes, while the remaining defenders shot arrows one by one, careful to avoid the deadly bolts of Myrish crossbows.

A deep rage surged within me as I saw my men cornered like rats, fighting tirelessly despite the looming certainty of death.

I suppressed the impulse to dive directly into the fray and incinerate the sailors on the ground.

If I did, the remaining sailors aboard the ships would have more than enough time to target me.

Taking possession of Rhaegal’s senses to assess the situation, I scanned the Volantene warships through his eyes.

I realized these bastards had upgraded their weapons while we were still allied.

‘They’ve developed new scorpions, large enough to pose a threat even to a dragon of Rhaegal’s size,’ I thought, before smiling and urging Rhaegal, hidden among the clouds, to dive.

‘But these new weapons are heavier, less maneuverable. They’re useless against me as long as I know where the danger lies,’ I thought, silently thanking the old gods for my warg abilities.

---

-POV Sardanorio Typaria-

Distant roar of Rhaegal.

"Silence!" I barked, ordering my men to quiet down, convinced I had heard something unusual.

The deck went still in an instant. After a few tense seconds, nothing happened, and Rybar, standing on the other side of the ship, smirked.

"You’re so scared of these dragons that you—"

I froze, my eyes widening in horror as I spotted a dragon in the distance, about a hundred meters away, descending from the sky toward our fleet. It straightened mid-dive, unleashing a continuous torrent of fire.

"RYBA—" I began to shout, but before I could finish, the dragon’s residual blast threw me off my feet. Rybar was reduced to ashes in less than a second.

ROAR OF THE DRAGON.

---

-POV Aegon Targaryen-

"BURN THEM ALL!" I roared, consumed by fury as I surveyed the myriad banners of our enemies, evidence that the entire world had united against us to destroy everything we stood for.

‘And all this, even if it means jeopardizing the only fight that truly matters—the battle of the living against the dead,’ I thought, commanding Rhaegal with both my voice and our bond to incinerate everything. 

I wanted to turn this entire fleet to ash.

SWIIIISH

A massive iron spear narrowly missed us.

I turned my head sharply to the right, pushing my warg abilities to their limits to create a protective shield against the barrage of projectiles hurtling our way.

‘These weapons are heavier but significantly faster. I wonder what kind of cord they used and who designed this marvel,’ I mused, forcing Rhaegal into a spin to avoid another spear before climbing higher into the sky to prepare for another strike.

‘There’s no way I can burn them all at once,’ I admitted as I assessed the damage I had inflicted so far.

While significant, the destruction I caused was limited to about fifteen ships—far from sufficient against the nearly 2,000 vessels assembled here.

Taking a deep breath, I resolved to retreat, at least for now.

Rhaegal dove again, this time straight into a coordinated volley.

The enemy was ready, and a rain of projectiles surged toward us, each capable of wounding Rhaegal.

With a simple wave of my hand, I diverted the projectiles, sending them spinning harmlessly away.

The maneuver drained a small but noticeable portion of my energy.

I knew I couldn’t keep doing this indefinitely; my passive mana regeneration wasn’t fast enough to offset such significant expenditure.

‘We’ll see who breaks first,’ I thought resolutely.

Regardless, I wasn’t the threat they should fear the most.

My mission was simple: reduce the gap between our two fleets as much as possible.

Exhorting Syrax, concealed among the clouds, to descend on another section of the enemy fleet, I smiled as I realized the sailors were far too preoccupied with me to notice her in time.

ROAR OF SYRAX.