Madness and Greatness Are Two Sides of the Same Coin

A night had passed.

The first faint light of dawn pierced the smoke, and the once-green plain had been dyed crimson.

Countless human and horse corpses lay scattered across the earth, amid broken banners and shattered weapons.

Crows circled low in the sky, their cries hoarse.

Suleiman stood amid the mountain of corpses. The soil beneath his feet had long been soaked through with blood, turning muddy and viscous.

The night wind had dispersed most of the smoke and ash, but the stench of blood still stubbornly bored into his nostrils.

Rosso Brune walked to his side, covered in blood and grime.

He had not slept all night. His eyes were bloodshot, and his voice was hoarse.

"My lord, why don't we pursue?"

"The Westerlanders have already scattered. They saw 'Tywin Lannister's' corpse being dis..."

Suleiman did not turn around. His gaze remained fixed on the distance as he cut him off.

"If Tywin Lannister were dead, I would have let you pursue."

His voice was calm, without the slightest ripple.

"But he isn't dead."

"Then we cannot pursue."

Suleiman offered no explanation.

Rosso Brune froze. He wanted to say something, but in the end, he said nothing.

His lord's judgment seemed never to have been wrong.

Suleiman turned around, no longer paying attention to Rosso Brune's confusion, and looked at the excited Kole Hewen nearby.

"You're going to Highgarden."

Kole Hewen nodded. He understood the weight of this task.

Suleiman looked south.

He reckoned House Tyrell would not place its bet lightly.

The unexpected outcome of the War of the Usurper had made those roses of The Reach extraordinarily cautious when placing their bets.

Rhaegar Targaryen—that fool—had created a miracle with his own hands.

In that war, the usurper had originally stood little chance of winning.

His Highness the