"Let King's Landing become charred bones and roasted flesh. Let me be the King of Ashes."
This was a famous saying of the Mad King Aerys, and also his dream.
Because of Jaime's treacherous stab, that dream became his dying wish.
It was once thought that the Mad King's legacy would remain forever buried in the dust of history and mocked by later generations. Unexpectedly, only twenty years later, someone turned his dream into reality.
This became a day that the people of King's Landing and the Seven Kingdoms would never forget.
After a full day of fierce fighting, the time reached four in the afternoon.
It was like a volcanic eruption.
Some survivors in King's Landing even swore that the Doom of Valyria was no worse than this.
The explosions first broke out on Rhaenys's Hill, starting from the brothels along the Street of Silk. Pillars of green fire shot into the sky one after another, until nearly half of King's Landing was engulfed in wildfire.
Shops, stables, brothels, plazas, street intersections, city gates, and more all had wildfire buried beneath them.
The peak of the explosions came from the Red Keep. The crust supporting the castle complex was lifted like the lid of a can, leaving behind a massive crater.
Because Aegon's High Hill stood at a higher elevation, from afar it looked as if a divine torch had been planted near the bay of King's Landing, its green flames burning hundreds of meters high.
It was the largest wildfire blaze humanity had ever witnessed.
Those alive beneath the shadow of the flames felt neither warmth nor heat. Instead, cold sweat poured down their bodies in fear and confusion. A strange chill seeped into their bones like living worms, freezing their very souls.
"Seven hells, what happened? Why is this happening?!" Outside the city gates, Jon's legs gave way and he fell to his knees.
He stared in terror toward the Red Keep, as if all strength had been drained from his body.
"No—!"
A wailing cry like that of an aged ape echoed from afar.
It was Stannis.
Like Jon, he seemed to have lost all strength, collapsing onto the ground in despair as he howled toward the Red Keep.
"Euron is too ruthless. If he can't have it, he destroys it. Now everything is ruined, and no one gets to sit the Iron Throne," Greatjon muttered in shock.
"Quick, go to Dragonstone! Go summon the Dragon Queen!" a knight cried hoarsely.
Greatjon turned his head and realized the one shouting was a Flameheart Knight by Stannis's side.
He recognized him, the pockmarked Ser Richard. Back in the godswood of Snakewood in the Vale, the two had even clashed over King Aegon.
"That's right, send word to Dragonstone. Ask the Dragon Queen to save the people of King's Landing!" another Flameheart Knight shouted.
It was the short, sturdy Ser Song.
"Are those two fools scared senseless?" Greatjon muttered in confusion.
He had been stationed in the Vale with the northern cavalry and had not participated in the Battle of Winterfell, so he knew little of the legendary experiences of the two Flameheart Knights.
At this moment, Jon finally recovered from his shock. Rising to his feet, he said anxiously, "The Dragon Queen is skilled in controlling fire. Let her come—"
Before he could finish, Melisandre rode past him, her red hair flowing, her eyes glowing with brilliant crimson light, murmuring incantations.
Within five hundred meters of her, every flame—candles, campfires, torches, lanterns—dimmed as if covered by a thick layer of sand, then extinguished one by one.
As she entered King's Landing, the burning wildfire, the people and buildings ignited by it, were all smothered and rapidly extinguished, as though buried under sand.
The scene was like a walking EMP pulse appearing in a brightly lit modern metropolis. Though its range was only half a kilometer, wherever it passed, lights went out, leaving behind a vast circular scar of darkness.
"This is… a domain! A combination of a shadow domain and a fire domain. The fire domain extracts fire elements, while the shadow domain lowers the temperature. Terrifying."
Others did not understand and only felt that the red priestess's magic was powerful. But Jon, who was gradually shedding his ignorance of the supernatural, was truly shocked and awed.
Like Melisandre, he was also a shadowbinder who cultivated both fire and shadow.
She was his predecessor, his goal.
"No need to summon the Dragon Queen," he said with a bitter smile to the northerners beside him. "But we should still inform her."
"Euron!" Stannis suddenly roared, his face twisted as he mounted the two-headed wyvern.
The creature flapped its tattered wings and wobbled westward into the sky.
Jon's expression changed. He hurried to Davos and said urgently, "My lord, please stop His Grace at once.
I suspect Euron anticipated our anger and the pursuit by dragonriders. He has likely set another trap."
"We've already suffered several losses today."
"You're right, my lord!" Davos's face changed. He immediately mounted his own wyvern and flew west in pursuit.
Before leaving, the Onion Knight said awkwardly, "Duke Stark, please notify the Faith. Have the clergy come out to rescue the people, and let the Faith's knights assist in disaster relief."
Without needing reminders, when Jon reached Visenya Hill, seven towers of holy light illuminated the surrounding kilometer as bright as day. Hundreds of white-robed priests skilled in holy healing were already at work.
The square before the sept was filled with wails. Everywhere were injured people—burned, crushed, or thrown by the shockwaves.
Nobles were carried inside the sept by servants, while commoners lay on stretchers in the square. Holy white light shone in the priests' hands as they stopped bleeding and healed wounds.
The hateful gazes of the people of King's Landing made Jon uneasy. Carefully avoiding the wounded, he found the one-armed knight Lancel beneath the statue of Baelor and asked, "Your Grace, have you informed Dragonstone?"
"The Queen has gone to the Westerlands for relief," Lancel replied, his expression dim.
"What happened in the Westerlands?" Jon was startled.
The one-armed knight looked at him with a complicated expression. "The Lannisters of Casterly Rock have been exterminated. Did you know, Duke Stark?"
Jon felt uncomfortable under his gaze, and the implication shocked him even more.
"What do you mean, exterminated?"
The moment the words left his mouth, a terrible premonition arose: this likely had something to do with the Starks.
"The day House Frey of Riverrun arrived at Casterly Rock, the Lannisters held a grand feast. In the end, 874 people died from poisoned wine, including Walder Frey and his sons."
Arya!
In an instant, Jon thought of the culprit.
"This is the first I've heard of it," Jon said, showing shock and pity with perfect naturalness.
Lancel remained calm and continued, "Later, it was discovered that the Others had been watching Casterly Rock. When they sensed the large-scale deaths, they immediately raised over a thousand corpses.
Within two hours, the wights destroyed Casterly Rock from within, then spread to Lannisport. Hundreds of thousands of wights have been spreading in all directions.
So far, over 1.5 million have died in the Westerlands.
Including those risen from graves, the Dragon Queen estimates the army of the dead has exceeded three million.
She is currently pursuing that vast horde."
"Gods…" This time, Jon truly turned pale in shock.
"Are you sure… 1.5 million are dead?" His voice sounded stiff and hollow, as if it came from a corpse.
"Before the War of the Four Kings, the Westerlands had nearly two million people. Now, fewer than one in ten remain," Lancel said sorrowfully.
Jon felt bitter. Words of comfort seemed meaningless.
After glancing at the wounded around him, Lancel added, "The Faith will do its best to aid King's Landing. Even now, inside the sept, the High Septon and archseptons are praying to the Mother, seeking divine descent."
After saying this, he took his leave and went to treat the injured.
Jon stood blankly beneath Baelor's statue. It felt as if all the moisture in his body had frozen solid. He did not even register the mention of divine descent. Only one thought filled his mind:
Arya, what have you done?
Suddenly, cold mist surged in from all directions, and the sunlight from the holy towers became dim.
His direwolf bristled, taking a defensive stance and growling softly.
Jon's soul was jolted awake from his grief.
In the next instant, from all across the darkened city where the fires had just been extinguished, terrified cries erupted:
"The dead are moving!"
Jon shuddered violently. Lancel's earlier words struck him like a hammer:
The Others had been watching Casterly Rock, raising the dead when mass death occurred.
They must have been watching King's Landing as well.
Gods… there are still three wyvern corpses in the city!
Terrified, Jon ran to the edge of the square and looked toward the Silent Sisters' Street near Rhaenys Hill, where the wyverns had fallen.
The more one fears something, the more likely it becomes reality.
Three pairs of glowing blue eyes slowly rose into the night like six lanterns.
"Gods… Bran, Bran!"
Jon's consciousness left his body, rising into a strange state.
"Bran, come quickly! There are three undead wyverns in King's Landing. Mark them, lock onto them. Don't let them leave your sight!"
"I'm busy," Bran's weary voice sounded in his ears.
In the next moment, Jon's awareness returned to his body.
Before he could react, a series of fireballs shot into the sky like meteors, screeching through the air.
It was Melisandre. She had acted.
Facing the incoming fireballs, two undead wyverns moved together, shielding the one above them.
They were struck directly and ignited into massive fireballs, but the highest wyvern climbed higher and higher.
Just as the last two blue lights were about to disappear into the night—
Caw! Caw!
With the cry of ravens, chanting from the sept surged. A golden line of fire shot from the dome into the darkness.
Its path was elusive, impossible to track. Then suddenly, an explosion of flame lit up the sky.
The last undead wyvern failed to escape.
Finally, the golden fire returned to the center of King's Landing, drawing a circle and igniting a blazing sun within it.
(End of Chapter)
Want to read the chapters in Advance? Join my Patreon
https://patreon.com/Glimmer09