Chapter 200: Picking on the Little Guys
After surveying the situation across the battlefield, Drogon assigned Adins to deal with the King's Landing fleet while he himself targeted the fleets of the Free Cities.
Seeing that cities such as Volantis and Lys—places that had once enthusiastically welcomed Daenerys during her journey—had now joined the coalition against her, Drogon couldn't help but feel puzzled.
He didn't know exactly what had changed in those cities, but he was certain the gods were involved somehow.
The evidence was right in front of him.
Among the enemy soldiers, he could see men wielding enchanted weapons.
Not long ago, Dragonstone's soldiers had relied on enchanted arms to fight the White Walkers.
Now those same kinds of weapons were being used against them.
It was an unpleasant surprise.
After glancing at the colossal eyes that had appeared in the sky, Melisandre retreated back into her cabin.
She had no intention of helping the Lord of Light's priests from the Free Cities.
But neither did she dare openly oppose R'hllor by aiding Dragonstone's forces.
Drogon circled behind the Free Cities fleet and reduced more than a dozen warships to burning wrecks before they could even engage Dragonstone's ships.
Then he shrank into his smaller form and began darting through the chaos of battle.
He specifically targeted soldiers carrying enchanted weapons while simultaneously searching for priests and other divine followers.
A Dragon God hunting ordinary soldiers was admittedly a little unfair.
But if those soldiers were carrying enchanted weapons, then all bets were off.
They had chosen to bring supernatural tools onto the battlefield.
Drogon felt no guilt whatsoever.
His black form became a blur as he pierced through one enemy after another.
Every death reduced the casualties suffered by Dragonstone's men.
Before long, he located a tall, thin priest in crimson robes.
The man stood among the fighting, blessing weapons one after another.
Benerro.
The Red Priest had already noticed the tiny black dragon streaking through the battlefield.
Earlier, he had also witnessed the Drowned God dangling helplessly from Drogon's claws.
He had never imagined that the black dragon would be so powerful.
Even a god had been defeated.
With the Drowned God's failure, Benerro had already lost faith in victory.
Now his only goal was to inflict as much damage on Dragonstone's army as possible and fulfill the Lord of Light's command.
Drogon landed before him.
The priest's face was covered with flame-shaped tattoos.
Despite the situation, there was remarkably little fear in his eyes.
Only unwavering devotion.
Drogon held no personal grudge against him.
But allowing him to live meant more Dragonstone soldiers would die.
That was reason enough.
Without hesitation, Drogon's wingtip flashed across the priest's throat.
Then he was gone.
Moving to the next ship.
And the next.
Everywhere he passed, soldiers carrying enchanted weapons collapsed with holes punched through their bodies.
The slaughter was so sudden and so efficient that soldiers from both sides momentarily forgot they were fighting.
Many simply stood frozen, staring at the black blur darting between ships.
After sweeping across dozens of vessels, Drogon spotted another familiar face.
Quaithe.
The shadowbinder he had encountered long ago.
She too had joined the effort to destroy Dragonstone.
Since she had chosen to stand against him, Drogon showed no mercy.
Like the Red Priest before her, she died without ceremony.
With Drogon now fully involved, Dragonstone's forces rapidly reversed the battle's momentum.
Once the Free Cities fleet began collapsing, he shifted his attention toward the fleet from King's Landing.
Most of the intact royal warships had already been overturned by Adins.
The surviving vessels were locked in brutal close-quarters combat.
Drogon quickly noticed something unusual.
The soldiers of King's Landing weren't using enchanted weapons.
Yet they fought with extraordinary ferocity.
Almost as though they had been infused with unnatural courage.
Then he remembered what Adins had told him.
The Seven had participated in the conspiracy as well.
That meant these fanatical warriors were likely being empowered by followers of the Faith.
Drogon began searching the battlefield for them.
At the same time, he made a point of eliminating the most aggressive and inspiring officers among the royal troops.
After passing over a dozen ships, he finally found what he was looking for.
A man in his fifties wearing a worn wool robe.
The man stood in the middle of a group, muttering prayers while making strange gestures toward the empty air.
Several young followers guarded him closely.
Each bore a circular brand burned into their foreheads.
Looking at the elderly man surrounded by devotees, Drogon couldn't help but wonder:
Could this actually be the infamous High Sparrow?
Whether it was or not hardly mattered.
His fate had already been decided.
The robed man and his followers looked up as Drogon approached.
For a split second, confusion crossed their faces.
Then pain exploded in their chests.
They looked down in horror.
Each of them now had a gaping hole where their hearts should have been.
One after another, they collapsed onto the deck.
Dead before they even understood what had happened.
With the priests' blessings gone, the King's Landing soldiers who had seemed unstoppable moments earlier began to lose momentum.
As the divine empowerment faded completely, their spirit, stamina, and morale dropped below even normal levels.
Dragonstone's troops immediately launched a fierce counterattack.
With one side weakening while the other grew stronger, the outcome became inevitable.
Victory for Dragonstone was now only a matter of time.
After their priests were killed, the allied forces from the Free Cities and King's Landing rapidly lost their will to fight.
More and more soldiers surrendered aboard the warships.
Half an hour later, the battle was over.
Concerned about Dragonstone's safety, Daenerys left part of the fleet behind to clear the battlefield while leading the main force home.
Back in his cabin, Drogon dug out a set of parchment and writing supplies he hadn't used in a long time.
After scribbling a few lines, he flew from the cabin toward the ship carrying Bran.
Following Bran's scent, he found the correct room and pushed the door open without hesitation.
Inside, Bran and Meera were talking.
Both jumped in surprise when the black dragon suddenly barged into the room.
They stared at him, completely baffled.
Drogon landed on the table, tossed the parchment onto its surface, then fixed Bran with a long, meaningful stare before immediately leaving.
Only after he disappeared did Meera push Bran's wheelchair closer.
The message read:
[I don't care why you're following Daenerys.
But if I ever catch you playing tricks again, there will be consequences.
After Daenerys unites the Seven Kingdoms, I'll have her cut down every weirwood tree in Westeros.
And House Stark won't have an easy future either.]
As Bran finished reading, cold sweat appeared on his forehead.
After meeting Drogon at Winterfell, he had realized the dragon wasn't quite as terrifying as he'd imagined.
Combined with the friendly relationship between House Stark and Daenerys, he had gradually become bolder.
When he sensed that the Lord of Light and several gods intended to attack Drogon and Daenerys's fleet, Bran had deliberately stayed out of it.
After witnessing Drogon kill the Night King and then erupt with an overwhelming surge of power, Bran wasn't convinced the Lord of Light and the others could actually defeat him.
Besides, Bran didn't truly want to participate.
More importantly, if the gods failed, House Stark could face catastrophic consequences.
That was why he had chosen to accompany the Dragonstone fleet and witness the battle himself.
What he hadn't expected was to watch Drogon defeat the Drowned God—a veteran deity.
The sight had shaken him to the core.
"Bran..."
Meera looked down at the threatening message.
"I think we should stop provoking the black dragon."
Fear was obvious in her eyes.
Bran looked at her for a moment before placing a hand over hers on the wheelchair handles.
Then he nodded.
...
Four hours later, the fleet arrived at Dragonstone.
Seeing that the island had not suffered from war, Daenerys finally relaxed.
The moment the defenders spotted the three-headed dragon banners of the returning fleet, they rushed out to welcome their queen.
Only then did Daenerys learn what had happened.
After defeating the forces guarding the Gullet near Driftmark, the King's Landing fleet had sailed directly north instead of attacking Dragonstone.
The garrison had been confused at the time.
Now everything made sense.
The royal fleet had joined forces with the Free Cities to ambush the returning northern army.
"Your Grace," Jorah said after confirming Dragonstone was secure.
He glanced at Tyrion, who remained unusually silent nearby.
"I recommend we strike King's Landing immediately."
Daenerys turned toward Tyrion.
He raised his head and met her gaze.
After a moment of consideration, she made her decision.
"Prepare the attack."
"We march on King's Landing."
Regardless of Cersei's reasons for violating the armistice, one thing was clear:
She had been extremely confident in this plan.
The battle at sea had only just ended.
News of the alliance's defeat hadn't reached King's Landing yet.
That made this the perfect opportunity for a surprise attack.
Jorah could see it.
Tyrion had undoubtedly seen it as well.
And Daenerys understood exactly what Tyrion was feeling.
She didn't blame him.
The order to attack King's Landing spread rapidly through the fleet.
Far from feeling exhausted, Dragonstone's soldiers became even more energized.
They had been attacked by sea monsters without warning.
Then ambushed by the combined fleets of the Free Cities and King's Landing.
Every man aboard was carrying a burning sense of anger.
Now they finally had a target.
The moment they heard they were marching on King's Landing, the army erupted with fighting spirit.
Just like the King's Landing soldiers who had been empowered by divine blessings earlier...
Dragonstone's warriors now felt as though they too had been injected with boundless energy.
And this time, their fury was entirely real.
Want faster updates? Send those stones my way—the more, the merrier. Read early at [email protected]/A_divin5