The wind blew from the south, carrying the distinctive faint stench of King's Landing—a mixture of trash, sewage, and too many people living together—into the clean air of the open fields; though faint, it stubbornly refused to dissipate.
The allied forces had completed their encirclement from north and south, like two rusty giant gates, firmly trapping the capital of the Seven Kingdoms in the center.
Aegon had marched south from Duskendale, holding the northern and eastern fronts of King's Landing; across The Blackwater Rush, camps stretched endlessly, filled with black and red dragon banners.
Jon Connington marched north from the Stormlands, sweeping through the Kingswood to block the south and southwest; the banners of the Golden Company and the sigils of surrendered nobles spread out without end.
The two armies closed in like iron pincers; the Lannister remnants and the little king inside the city no longer had any chance of escape.
The main army's command tent was pitched on the high ground of the north bank, offering a clear view of the towering walls of King's Landing and the distant spires of the Red Keep.
Inside the tent, the primary generals stood solemnly according to their rank, the atmosphere heavy. The occasional crackle of wood in the charcoal brazier was the only sound in the tent.
Aegon sat in the seat of honor, a high-backed chair draped in wolf skin.
He had removed his dragon-wing helmet, his silver hair tied back. His posture was straight and his expression blank as his purple eyes calmly surveyed the parchment map on the table, where the positions of friend and foe were clearly marked with charcoal.
Jon Connington stepped forward.
The veteran's hair was streaked with gray and his face was weathered by the elements, yet his gaze remained as sharp as a hawk's. He placed a hand over his chest in a salute and spoke in a deep voice:
"Your Highness, the Stormlands have been largely pacified. Most of the major families, lords, and main forces that previously pledged loyalty to Stannis perished with him in the sea off Dragonstone; those remaining either have empty castles or broken morale, and we encountered no significant resistance."
"Important castles and Ports have all been taken, and I have arranged for personnel to garrison them to ensure the security of our rear. Along the way, we also incorporated scattered units and local levies to replenish our strength and deter those with dissenting hearts."
Aegon lifted his gaze from the map, letting it fall on Clinton, and gave a faint grunt of acknowledgement.
Clinton continued: "The main force of the Golden Company, supplemented by twenty thousand conscripted auxiliary troops, has completed the encirclement of the south and southwest of King's Landing. The camps are secure, and scouts have been sent out twenty miles."
"I have come personally, first to report to Your Highness, and second to consult with the northern army to finalize the details of the general assault. By attacking from both north and south simultaneously, we will leave the enemies in the city unable to defend both ends."
He paused, looking at Aegon's young but exceptionally calm face, his expression complex as if he wanted to say more but hesitated.
Aegon looked up: "Speak your mind."
The gazes of everyone in the tent quietly converged, and the atmosphere grew increasingly stagnant.
Clinton took a deep breath and finally spoke:
"Your Highness, while marching through the Stormlands, I heard successive reports from Dragonstone and Duskendale regarding Your Highness's handling of the nobility and the revocation of their privileges. I venture to speak plainly: Your Highness's actions are far too dangerous."
"Striking at the foundations of the nobility so drastically is tantamount to overturning the thousand-year-old system of Westeros. Acting in this manner risks losing the hearts of all the nobles in Westeros. Without their support, even if we take King's Landing, it will be very difficult to rule and govern the Seven Kingdoms."
Jon Connington's heart was in turmoil.
He was born a nobleman, a knight and lord of the old order; Aegon's abolition of hereditary rights and the reclamation of fiefs and military power were tearing down the foundations he had believed in all his life.
Logically, he no longer had any reason to continue standing by this young monarch's side.
But his unfulfilled loyalty to Prince Rhaegar, his responsibility to the Targaryen bloodline, and his guilt toward the young man before him held him fast.
He could only state his heavy concerns bluntly, hoping the true dragon might hesitate for a moment.
"I mean nothing else, I only hope Your Highness will think twice. Some paths, once stepped upon, offer no possibility of turning back," Clinton's voice was strained.
After listening, Aegon's expression remained calm, showing neither anger nor reflection. He waved his hand dismissively with an air that brooked no argument:
"I have these matters under control."
He skipped the topic entirely, his fingertip pointing to the location of King's Landing on the map: "Tell me about the southern army's arrangements for the siege."
Clinton was silent for a moment, then gave a soft sigh, pushing down his worries to return to the business of war:
"My subordinates and I have conducted reconnaissance for days, and the situation is as difficult as expected. Joffrey has driven all the civilians in the city onto the walls to serve as human shields. Behind the battlements, it is crowded with the elderly, women, and children."
He pointed to the southern walls: "The areas around the Mud Gate and the Gate of the Gods are the most densely packed. Clearly, he intends to use these lives to force us to hesitate in our assault, buying himself time."
Clinton proposed a plan: "I believe there is no need to rush into a direct assault. King's Landing has a massive population, and their food stores must be limited. We only need to tighten the encirclement, cut off their supply lines and water sources, and besiege without attacking. It won't be long before the city runs out of food. With hundreds of thousands of starving people and a terrified garrison, the city will fall into chaos from within before we even attack."
"The mob will riot for food and perhaps open the gates of their own accord, dismantling the garrison from the inside. In this way, our army can take King's Landing with minimal cost."
This was a safe and conventional tactic, and many generals in the tent nodded in agreement.
Aegon listened quietly, his fingers tapping twice on the armrest as the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.
That curve was extremely faint and devoid of any mirth, containing only a cold and cruel certainty.
"Besiege? Wait?"
He repeated softly, his tone flat, yet the sense of finality caused the temperature in the tent to plummet.
"Unnecessary."
Jon Connington looked up sharply, somewhat bewildered: "Your Highness means..."
Aegon rose slowly, his dark red cloak falling behind him. He walked around the table to the large-scale map of King's Landing's defenses on the tent wall, his finger tracing the bold outline of the walls. His voice was not loud, but it was as clear as ice droplets hitting the floor:
"I mean, a direct assault."
He turned his head, his gaze sweeping over the shocked crowd, a phantom fire seemingly burning in the depths of his purple eyes.
"With the fastest and most ferocious offensive, we will smash the shell of King's Landing."
"Before sunrise tomorrow..."
His gaze fell upon that final fortress, speaking each word with iron-clad resolution:
"I want to stand at the highest point of the Red Keep and see with my own eyes the Lannister banners being torn down."
"As for the civilians driven up there..."
Aegon's tone was entirely devoid of emotion, as if he were stating a common fact:
"That is Joffrey's sin, not a cost I should measure with mercy."
He paused and added a sentence that sent a shock through the hearts of all the veteran generals:
"In tomorrow's general assault, I will ride the dragon myself to open the way into the city for the army."
"All of you, go and prepare."
Ãdvåñçé çhàptêr àvàilàble óñ pàtreøn luffy1898