Under the cover of night.
Teams of Gold Cloaks flooded the streets, conducting widespread arrests of criminals.
Without clear targets, they stormed into homes, gambling dens, brothels, and other places, seizing suspects in hiding.
As the petty emperors of King's Landing, they knew best where criminals were likely to be sheltered.
Bang!
A hidden door to an underground fighting pit was kicked open. The organizers were all arrested, while the spectators scattered in panic.
"Over here, there are several children!"
A Gold Cloak opened an iron-barred door. Three frail children were curled up inside the dim cell.
The other Gold Cloaks gathered around.
One of them dragged out a half-grown boy and roughly forced open his mouth, revealing a set of sharpened teeth.
The boy's gaze was fierce. Even when he was thrown back inside, he neither cried nor made a sound.
"This one's ruined. Check the other two younger ones."
The older Gold Cloak captain had seen the money-making tools raised by such inhuman underground fighting pits before.
It was clear from the boy's behavior that he had already killed people in matches.
After such cruel experiences, they became fiercer than wild beasts and impossible to discipline.
"These two haven't been ruined."
A Gold Cloak pried open the mouths of the other girl and boy. Their teeth had not been sharpened, and aside from whip marks, they bore no wounds from fighting.
More importantly, the two children had tears of fear in their eyes, along with wills of their own.
The Gold Cloak captain waved a broad hand. "Take these two back and settle them somewhere. Throw the older one into Flea Bottom."
Prince Daeren had given the order.
Female orphans under thirteen and male orphans under eleven were to be taken in together. Orphans over those ages would be handled according to the circumstances.
Those broken by underground fighting pits would be thrown directly into Flea Bottom.
Perhaps it was cruel, but Daeren was no philanthropist.
His lands needed people to fill them.
Younger orphans had not suffered too much darkness yet and could still be raised and taught.
Once they were over thirteen, especially the boys—
They were no longer children, but a pack of future criminals.
Daeren had excluded Flea Bottom from his purge of King's Landing precisely to leave those driven into desperate straits a place to survive.
Just as the saying went: never corner a desperate dog.
The people of Flea Bottom could not be sorted neatly into good and evil.
So they would be handled differently.
"Move on. Next one!"
After smashing everything in sight, the Gold Cloaks escorted the thugs from the underground fighting pit away.
At the same time.
The same scenes played out again and again.
The operation spread outward from the City Guard barracks, then reached Cobbler's Square and Silk Street. A third of King's Landing was shrouded in gold.
Dawn broke.
Daeren sat on the base of a statue on Silk Street. His silver-gold hair was stained with blood, while unwavering conviction filled his eyes.
He checked the System Panel.
Spring, twenty-fourth day. Wednesday. Clear skies. 7:30.
An overnight purge had been immensely difficult.
Daeren silently raised his head and watched wagon after wagon, covered in white cloth and dripping blood, leave the city.
Thud!
A severed hand fell out, twitching once from a nervous reflex.
Elisha entered his view, picked up the hand, and shoved it back into the wagon.
"Prince, Cobbler's Square has been cleared. The shops along Silk Street have complicated backing. We need a little more time."
Daeren seemed not to hear him and remained silent.
Purging King's Landing was a mad plan.
In a single night, more than a thousand criminals of all kinds had been arrested. No fewer than a hundred who refused to obey the law had been executed, and quite a few who resisted had been beheaded.
The severed limbs and remains of those punished alone had filled six or seven wagons.
"Our family has declined."
Daeren quietly closed his eyes.
It was now 280 AC.
There was still one year until the Tourney at Harrenhal and the "False Spring," and two years until the War of the Usurper.
Before that, he had to gather Dragon Eggs. After that, he had to develop his farms.
He did not have even a trace of time to waste on the City Guard or on governance that slowly boiled a frog.
Troubled times called for harsh measures!
The Targaryens had not yet fallen, and his father Aerys was still King.
As long as he gained his father's support and the Small Council's assistance, the consequences of this matter would be nothing to fear.
"After today, the defenses of King's Landing will be in my hands."
Thoughts raced through Daeren's mind like a computer.
If he firmly controlled the defenses of King's Landing, he could transform from a favored prince into a prince with real power.
Only by increasing his influence could his later plans proceed smoothly.
Seeing the silent prince, Elisha asked with concern, "Prince, you haven't slept all night. You should rest for a while first."
"No need."
Daeren opened his eyes and stood. "Something this big was uncovered last night. The Small Council is probably in an uproar by now."
Before long, someone would summon him.
"Prince, shall I find a group of capable men to escort you back to the Red Keep?"
Elisha's eyes suddenly turned cold and sharp.
Daeren glanced at him and said lightly, "The Seven Kingdoms are still my father's Seven Kingdoms."
Elisha immediately fell silent.
"Tell the Gold Cloaks to be careful. Don't act recklessly in broad daylight."
Daeren did not rebuke him. Calmly, he said, "Go to Lord Manwoody's side and protect him personally."
The coup within the City Guard and last night's purge—
Both had relied on speed, ruthlessness, and precision.
Now that the overall situation was settled, it could not be changed.
The only thing requiring attention was ensuring Lord Manwoody's personal safety.
If he were assassinated and died, public opinion about the incident would head in an uncontrollable direction.
"Yes, Prince!"
Elisha accepted the order and headed directly for Lord Manwoody's residence in King's Landing.
Once the noise around him had faded.
Daeren took out a fresh, juicy strawberry and gently bit into it.
No matter when or where he was, no matter what circumstances he faced—
He must never forget to eat breakfast.
Red Keep, Council Hall.
Just as Daeren had expected, the Grand Ministers who had heard the news early that morning were already in an uproar.
"Seven Hells! Look at what Prince Daeren did last night!"
Lord Symon Staunton, the Minister of Justice, wore a grim expression as he struggled to suppress his panic.
He was already an old man.
Early that morning, a retainer had awakened him and informed him that the City Guard had undergone a complete reshuffle, while criminals across half of King's Landing had been purged overnight.
Gods knew his heart had nearly pounded itself into stopping.
Lord Lucerys Velaryon, the Master of Ships, said in a low voice,
"In just one night, the Gold Cloaks executed no fewer than a hundred people. It took seven two-horse wagons to carry the corpses and severed limbs out of the city."
"It is said that Prince Daeren personally killed three men who dared resist him in the chaos of the streets last night."
Damn it!
Did he think he was Daemon Targaryen, the Rogue Prince from over a century ago?
Lord Colleton Chested, the youngest Master of Coin, had a dark look on his face as he said,
"My lords, it is too late to say any of this now."
"Your Majesty has not yet heard of this, and Lord Hand has declined to appear."
"If we cannot suppress this matter, our heads will all end up on spears, hanging from the walls of the Red Keep."
At those words, the other two felt as though their heads had exploded.
Count Colton looked at the fourth person present and demanded, "Lord Varys, why did you not report such a major event last night?"
The King and Lord Hand were absent, while the position of Grand Maester remained vacant.
Only three Grand Ministers and one eunuch remained on the Small Council.
Varys furrowed his brow. Faced with the sudden accusation, he answered smoothly, "My lord, even Little Birds need rest. Besides, the events last night came without warning. There was no sign of them at all."
Who could be all-knowing and all-powerful?
He had informed Prince Daeren of the conspiracy in order to help him seize power quickly and restore proper order to King's Landing.
Yet the prince's actions had been so unpredictable that Varys had been caught completely off guard.
It was like two acquaintances chatting pleasantly one moment, only for one of them to suddenly pull out a dagger and stab the other the next.
It could not have been predicted!
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