A light rain fell in the early morning and did not stop until near dawn. The rising sun broke through the clouds and slowly emerged from below the horizon, scattering vitality across the boundless Reach plains along with its light. The damp ground quickly gave off a layer of hazy vapor, which slowly rose into the sky and refracted a magnificent rainbow across the heavens.
As the remaining droplets on the leaves evaporated, the weeds and crops in the vast fields began to lift their heads and compete for sunlight as usual. Meanwhile, in the shade of rocky crevices, beside a few small and inconspicuous mushrooms, a lucky field mouse that had survived the winter also poked its head out from a hidden burrow, planning to search for breakfast for its entire litter.
The beautiful and peaceful spring morning was shattered in the next moment by terrifying upright apes. The rumbling tremors of the earth approached from afar, frightening the mother field mouse back into her burrow long before they arrived. The hooves that came slightly later, kicking up dirt, trampled all the plants along the way, wild or cultivated, into the mud and crushed them into pulp, as if violently asserting ownership over this land.
The sky had fully brightened, and the gates of Daenerys's army camp slowly opened. Large groups of scout cavalry, who had eaten their first meal early, poured out fully armed with spare horses, scattering in all directions as usual to scout the road and clear obstacles for the army's westward expedition.
Behind them, the thirty-thousand-strong westward expeditionary army also began dismantling their tents in an orderly manner, slowly breaking camp and setting out.
It had been half a month since they had entered the Reach from the Crownlands. They had advanced all the way, encountering no large-scale resistance except for sporadic harassment. Although their momentum had been somewhat worn down, their confidence in victory had only grown stronger. At this pace, in two more days they would be able to camp beneath Highgarden and let their horses graze in House Tyrell's stud farms.
...
In the center of the vast camp, Aegor, who had just finished breakfast, walked out of the central command tent and took a deep breath of the fresh morning air, but he was not as blindly optimistic as the ordinary soldiers.
The situation was not good.
This "not good" did not mean the war could not be won, but rather that the scales of victory were continuously shifting toward the middle, or rather, toward the opposing side.
Two months ago, immediately after the Battle of the Blackwater Rush, if Daenerys's faction had abandoned King's Landing and turned back to directly pursue the retreating enemy into the Reach, victory would have been absolutely certain. The enemy likely would not even have had the strength to fight back.
However, after Aegor fought another naval battle and a siege battle in the capital of the Seven Kingdoms, took a brief rest, subdued the Westerlands, formulated general national policy, and stabilized the situation in the Crownlands, in short, after spending time digesting the spoils already taken and giving Aegon and the Reach room to breathe, the chance of victory declined slightly, dropping to ninety percent.
Immediately after that, the Reachmen not only did not lose their will to fight, but also successfully developed gunpowder and began a full mobilization throughout their feudal domain, eighty percent.
The frontline nobles, under the command of the joint Command, voluntarily retreated and adopted a scorched-earth policy, trading space for time and choosing the most correct counterstrategy, seventy percent.
The supply line connected to the Crownlands was harassed by Reach cavalry units to the point of existing in name only, and the grain and fodder seized from captured cities and castles were far less than expected. Despite carrying as much as possible with the army and making urgent "forced purchases" from nearby villages, the consumption of the thirty-thousand-strong army and their horses quickly dragged the westward expedition into a logistical quagmire...
As they pushed deeper into the heart of the Reach, the determination of the local nobles to resist to the end, and the signs that they were preparing a major battle to greet him, became increasingly clear. Although the Western Expeditionary Army was still on the offensive and still held the upper hand for the time being, after realizing the seriousness of the situation, Aegor took action. The day before yesterday, he sent letters by raven to the auxiliary armies on the northern and southern routes and to King's Landing in the rear, ordering the new Westerlands army stationed near Old Oak to head south along the coastal road directly toward the northwest of Highgarden, instructing the northern army that had invaded the area around the upper Mander to also move west as quickly as possible to pressure the east of Highgarden, and at the same time requesting aid from Daenerys, hoping she could arrive in time on dragonback to take part in this most crucial battle to unify the Seven Kingdoms.
It was too late to turn back, and forcibly maintaining the supply line would disperse his forces and give the enemy an opportunity. Aegor now faced two choices. One was to announce the logistical difficulties, control supply and distribution, sacrifice morale in exchange for endurance, and hold his ground while waiting for aid from the other three possible relief forces. The other was to maintain the original pace and continue to advance, driving deep in one thrust for a head-on confrontation, gambling that after defeating a force of one hundred thousand with thirty thousand, he would still have enough strength left to take Highgarden.
The capital of the Reach could not possibly have also carried out a scorched-earth policy. As long as they seized House Tyrell's winter stores, they could easily overcome this difficulty.
After much deliberation, Aegor did not make a rash decision. Instead, in the dead of night yesterday, he secretly summoned the two witches, Melisandre and Kinvara, to ask them about the feasibility of "assassinating Aegon with shadowbinding."
Yes, a dirty trick.
Of course, it was only at this moment that Aegor remembered the existence of the Red Priests. He had not thought of it before because it involved "weighing the pros and cons." When victory could be won openly and honorably with the army, was it necessary to gamble his own reputation, Daenerys's prestige, and the legitimacy of House Targaryen's rule by resorting to "evil magic"?
For a mere one or two percent chance of failure, it was certainly not worth it.
But now the risk had risen to thirty or forty percent. As an open-minded modern man, he naturally could not be some reputation-obsessed overlord, stubbornly clinging to conventional moral standards while leaving such a unique skill unused, one that could effectively bring the war to an end.
What was pragmatism? Of course it was "better to be condemned by morality than examined by a coroner"!
---
After hearing Aegor's question, the keenly perceptive Kinvara immediately understood his purpose.
"Shadowbinding is indeed one of the arts taught by the Red Temple, but not every priest knows it. Apart from requiring a certain talent, it also demands years of arduous practice... Even with lifespans beyond those of ordinary mortals, high-ranking priests usually specialize in only a few specific spells and merely dabble in the rest. In this regard, Melisandre's mastery far surpasses mine and even that of most priests within the faith. Please allow her to answer the Lord Regent's question."
"Shadowbinding, as the name suggests, is a spell that controls and binds shadows." As Aegor's old partner and follower, Melisandre showed no shyness or hesitation. "But it must be made clear that the 'shadow' mentioned here is not a shadow cast by light, but a 'shadow life' woven and nourished by magic. Because such a shadow is dark in color and easier to conceal when hidden within shadows, after appearing many times and carrying out missions, it came to be rumored as a spell that 'can control shadows.' Ordinary swords and blades cannot harm its form, but magical means can easily..."
"No need to explain too much of the theory," Aegor interrupted. He did not understand it, and had no interest in learning. "Just tell me what conditions are required."
"First, it requires several days of preparation time, and that is only in the superior environment brought by the resurgence of magic. After the caster performs the spell and summons the shadow, it must be nourished and fed with magic, or even flesh and blood, to make it grow before the binding can be completed. Furthermore... the casting of shadowbinding also has distance limits. If it exceeds the caster's range of ability, the shadow may escape, dissipate, or lose control. Although I have mastered shadowbinding, killing someone a thousand miles away is still fantasy. The target must at least be within sight, and if it can be as close as separated by a wall or on another floor, that is best. In addition, artificially cultivated shadows are unintelligent and foolish things. Binding a shadow is not simply 'giving it an order and waiting for it to return victorious.' Rather, the caster must control it like a second body, directing it every minute, every second, every instant without pause, guiding it step by step to its destination, almost as if completing the desired task with their own hands."
"That troublesome?" Aegor frowned, suddenly understanding why, in the original timeline, Melisandre needed Davos Seaworth to take her by boat to Storm's End before she could act. Watching from the sidelines only showed how terrifying and deadly shadowbinding was, but only by experiencing it firsthand could one understand its cost and limitations. "So that means you can only succeed if the two armies are close enough and I know exactly where the target is?"
"Not 'can succeed,' but 'can act.' As for whether it will truly succeed in the end, that depends on whether the enemy is careless and whether the two witches Connington is rumored to have hired to protect Aegon are the real thing... Shadowbinding is difficult to cast, but once discovered, it is quite easy to avoid, obstruct, or break."
"Understood. Then start preparing. Whether or not we use it in the end will depend on my orders." After a brief silence, Aegor made up his mind, then suddenly remembered something. "Kinvara, Melisandre said casting the spell requires a great deal of magic. Can other priests besides her, like you, help speed up the process?"
"Yes, I would be glad to assist." The chief priestess of the Lord of Light bowed respectfully, once again showing her submission without the slightest hesitation. When she raised her head, her eyes held a trace of ambiguous amusement. "However, Lord Regent, allow me to remind you of one thing. As the Lord of Light's representative in the world of men, you are filled with the pure power of my lord R'hllor. If you personally take part in this shadowbinding ritual and assist in it, the cultivated shadow will grow the fastest and be the strongest when it matures."
---
In the morning light, Aegor was still savoring the absurdity, strangeness, and novelty of what he had experienced last night when a piercing horn blast suddenly rang through the clear sky, shrill and urgent, as if shouting: Warning! Enemy attack!
It was somewhat unexpected, but the tactic of staying together and advancing steadily feared surprise attacks the least, not to mention that the army was still inside a sturdy camp at this moment. Aegor stood calmly where he was, and after a moment, as expected, received the report from the messenger.
"Lord Hand, the scouts have discovered the main Reach force about five miles to the west, estimated at thirty to fifty thousand men. The entire army is deployed in a horizontal battle formation and is slowly advancing toward us. In addition, there are also signs of enemy cavalry on the eastern and southern sides. Their numbers are unknown, and our scouts are intensifying their reconnaissance!"
(To be continued.)
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