When the colossal beast, whose body stretched over forty meters long, appeared before them, the soldiers could not stop swallowing nervously.
They trembled all over, as excited as men stepping onto a battlefield for the first time.
Soon, Viserys stepped out from among the crowd.
At nearly six feet two inches tall, Viserys was not even as tall as the length of the dragon's foot.
The enormous difference in size between man and dragon made every soldier break out in a cold sweat.
But soon, the dragon lowered its head, and Viserys climbed onto the black dragon's neck.
Although he could control the dragon through their shared consciousness, actually riding atop it himself felt completely different.
He looked down at the scenery and soldiers around him. The worry and fear in their eyes had already transformed into fanaticism and worship.
The dragon turned in a circle where it stood before spreading its wings.
Its powerful hind legs suddenly pushed off the ground, and its enormous body rose into the sky once more.
"Long live King Viserys! Long live Balerion! Long live the dragons!"
Mathos watched Balerion fly toward the enemy camp and raised his sword, shouting at the top of his lungs.
"Long live King Viserys! Long live Balerion! Long live the dragons!"
"Long live King Viserys! Long live Balerion! Long live the dragons!"
"Long live King Viserys! Long live Balerion! Long live the dragons!"
Nothing could ignite morale more effectively than fighting alongside a dragon.
The soldiers were puzzled as to why the Demon Dragon had suddenly grown so enormous.
But with victory right before their eyes, who had the time to worry about such things?
Ten thousand dragonriders followed close behind.
The heavy infantry and longbowmen also began advancing rapidly.
Mathos led the dragonriders and his own personal guards at the very front.
He still remembered the words Viserys himself had granted their family as its motto:
"For the King, the Vanguard!"
"Father, I'm coming!"
"Father! Over here!"
"My lord, come this way!"
"A little farther out!"
By this point, the lords and nobles had finally scattered in every direction.
Under the frenzied assault of the dragons, there was nowhere that could truly be considered safe.
All they could do was pray for the gods' mercy.
Tywin looked at the Demon Dragon overhead and suddenly stopped running.
"Father?" Jaime could not understand what he was doing. "There's still another one, isn't there?"
"What?"
"Viserys has three dragons. Where is the other one?"
That's right. There was still another one.
Jaime suddenly realized it as well.
Although the enormous dragon overhead did not match the size of the young dragon they had seen before, there was no doubt from its color and the way it attacked that it was one of Viserys's dragons.
The silver dragon and green dragon had both grown enormous.
Then there was no way the other black dragon could still be small.
Where was the other black dragon?
"Damn it!"
Tywin suddenly thought of something and whipped his head around toward the area where the reserve weapons, supplies, and provisions were stored.
By sheer coincidence, the instant he turned his head, an orange-red explosion erupted from the supply depot.
Balerion's dragonfire was black streaked with traces of gold.
Unless one looked closely, or had exceptionally good eyesight, it was almost impossible to notice those colors.
Once food and other supplies caught fire, however, the flames naturally became red or yellow.
More than half of the provisions for the two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-strong army were stored there.
This single attack had directly robbed the allied army of its ability to continue the offensive.
Tywin was, after all, a formidable lord in his own right. He immediately understood Viserys's intentions.
He knew about the scorpions designed to kill dragons, so Viserys had first used the conspicuous green and silver dragons to draw away most of the danger, while taking the black dragon to burn their provisions.
Even possessing such a devastating trump card, Viserys had still acted with such caution.
Tywin no longer knew what to say.
He turned to Jaime and spoke.
"Take our army and get out of here as quickly as possible."
"To Braavos?"
"Back to Westeros. Back to the Westerlands."
"But Father, our army still has—"
Jaime had not finished speaking when Tywin interrupted him. "You are coming back with me. Bring Cersei as well."
"Father?"
"Come back with me and inherit Casterly Rock."
With that, Tywin turned without another word and hurried toward the encampment of the Westerlands army.
Elsewhere, Robert and his two brothers were also doing everything they could to flee for their lives.
He had no idea where he should go.
The first person Robert thought of was Eddard.
He wanted to find his good friend, but in this apocalyptic rout, he could barely tell north from south, let alone find another person.
Eventually, they escaped into a concealed ditch along a river, finally gaining a chance to catch their breath.
On ordinary days, both Renly and Loras would have been handsome enough to captivate countless women.
But at this moment, both men were covered in dirt and grime.
Loras's prized brown-gold hair was disheveled and flying wildly around his face.
He held his longsword in his hand, remaining alert to everything around them.
Stannis, meanwhile, stood at a high point, keeping watch.
"Seven hells! My sword! My Lightbringer is gone!"
At that moment, Robert discovered that the Lightbringer he had obtained through sacrificing to the Seven had somehow been lost.
For a knight, it was an enormous humiliation.
For a king, the humiliation was even greater.
Stannis glanced coldly at Robert without making any response.
Only his attendants were left scrambling around in a panic, searching for the glowing sword.
While some of the men were still struggling to recover from the shock, the Targaryen army, surging forward like a tidal wave, began crashing into the allied army's camp.
The dragons' attack had already thrown the entire camp into chaos.
Now they were faced with an organized army of fifty thousand attacking them.
The result was practically a complete rout.
Dragons were overhead. A fierce army was at their backs. And now, night had fallen.
Terror clung to them like a ghost.
The soldiers of Westeros and Braavos had only one thought.
Run!
Run as far as they could.
The Westerosi soldiers fled toward the coast of Braavos, thinking that as long as they could get aboard ships, they might be safe once they returned to Westeros.
The Braavosi soldiers fled north.
Perhaps they would be safe once they reached Braavos.
But even more people simply ran around like headless flies.
Viserys flew through the sky on dragonback, while the Andal Plains below were filled with fleeing soldiers.
Burning tents, terrified warhorses, and fallen banners were trampled beneath countless feet.
Under such circumstances, finding Robert was anything but easy.
But it did not matter.
Robert's survival or death was no longer important.
The cavalry of Gohor should already have set out.
In this battle, Viserys would capture at least one hundred thousand prisoners.
Even the subsequent operations to round up the defeated soldiers would take at least half a month.
There were more than two hundred thousand men involved in this war.
Even if they were two hundred thousand pigs, it would take at least half a month to catch them all.
As for Robert and Tywin's group, they might manage to escape under the protection of their guards and attendants.
There was an even greater chance that they would flee to Braavos.
After capturing the prisoners and taking some time to reorganize his forces, Viserys would probably have to wait at least two or three months before he could launch an attack on Braavos.
As for the Three Daughters, Volantis, Norvos, and the other powers, those would have to wait even longer.
All in all, after this battle, the tide of the war had completely turned.
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