Dragons Roar over the Gate of the Gods, Iron Hooves Ride for the Riverlands

The morning mist in King's Landing had not yet dissipated, but the massive archway of the Gate of the Gods was already bathed in the golden-red light of dawn.

The heavy city gates swung open, and the iron gates slowly rose with a dull creak, like a horn awakening a sleeping dragon.

On the open field outside the city gates, the allied forces from the Crab Claw Peninsula, brought by Daemon, along with the knights of the vassal states who had arrived earlier from the southern part of the Crownlands, formed a large army and stood ready to set off. Spears stood like a forest pointing straight to the sky, and swords gleamed with a cold light in the hazy daylight. The crisp sound of knights' armor clashing and the neighing of warhorses intertwined, forming a magnificent prelude to the expedition.

Daemon rode at the very front of the procession, his horse jet black except for its four snow-white hooves. It was the new warhorse that his "sister" Rhaenys had recently purchased from Essos Essos her friends in Corlys and given to Daemon.

Today, Daemon is dressed in the traditional Targaryen Lineage Black Dragon armor, but it still has his own unique scales. The scales gleam with a dull luster in the morning light, and the three-headed dragon on his chest has been carefully polished by the craftsmen, as if it is about to break free from the armor and take off.

The red cloak fluttered in the morning breeze, the gold thread embroidery along its edges shimmering with light as he moved, complementing his purple eyes beneath his long silver hair, exuding an aura of unapproachable majesty.

He raised his hand and placed it on the Blackfyre at his waist. The Valyrian steel hilt was icy cold, but it only fueled his fighting spirit.

In the sky, the Glutton spread their enormous black wings and circled, their wingspan blotting out the sun and casting shadows that covered the entire front-line army.

The Black Dragon's scales were as smooth as obsidian, and the wisps of blue smoke it exhaled condensed into white mist in the morning fog. Occasionally, it would let out a low roar, which would make the branches of distant trees tremble slightly.

The Grey Ghost followed closely beside it. This slightly smaller dragon was entirely silver-gray, but its personality had become quite clingy. It would occasionally rub its head against the neck of its "boss," the Glutton, and make soft moaning sounds, as if expressing unease about the upcoming journey, or as if urging it to move forward.

Inside the city gate, a crowd of people had already gathered in the open space to see him off. King Jaehaerys stood at the front, leaning on the Goldenheart scepter given to him by Daemon. Time had etched deep wrinkles on his face, but it had not diminished the majesty in his purple eyes.

He wore a black and gold royal robe embroidered with a three-headed dragon, his left hand tightly holding Queen Alysanne's hand. A blue gemstone hairpin adorned the queen's silver-white hair, and her eyes were filled with reluctance and worry.

Viserys ' wife Aemma, dressed in a pale purple dress, held young Rhaenyra in her arms. The little princess clung curiously to her mother's arm, pointing her tiny finger at the dragons in the sky and letting out a clear laugh.

Daemon's gaze swept through the crowd and landed precisely on Gael. She was wearing a light blue dress with a white fox fur cloak over it, a gift that Brandon Stark had entrusted to Willam Dustin, Herman Dustin's elder brother, to bring to Daemon when he and their father, Earl Rodrik Dustin, came from the the North to attend the previous war council.

Beside her stood her maids Mysaria and Johanna Swann, while Lia Osgre, her bodyguard, gripped her sword hilt and vigilantly scanned the surroundings.

As for Alys Rivers, she remained as aloof as ever towards outsiders. Only Bethany Hightower, with her undisguised fervor, stood on tiptoe and stared intently at Daemon, who was riding a magnificent horse.

Gael's gaze met Daemon's. Without saying much, she gently bit her lower lip, raised her hand and gripped the dragon scale-patterned amulet on her chest. It was one she had embroidered herself, with the Blackfyre and the Glutton's image on it.

"Take care of yourself," Daemon mouthed to her.

Gael nodded vigorously, her eyes slightly reddening. She turned to her bodyguard Brienne of Tarth, and whispered a few words to her.

Brienne, tall and clad in silver-white armor, bowed respectfully in Daemon's direction upon hearing this, then strode forward towards Daemon in the group.

Her brother, Budimir Tarth, who was Daemon's personal bodyguard, immediately stepped forward to greet his elder sister and stood behind Daemon together. The two siblings stood like two iron towers, guarding him on either side.

Rhaenys held Jocelyn Baratheon's hand, followed by Laena and Laenor.

Both children were dressed in aristocratic attire that blended the styles of House Velaryon and Targaryen. However, Laena looked up at her mother's dragon, the "Red Queen" Meleys, in the sky, her little hands tightly gripping her mother's skirt. Laenor, on the other hand, looked at Daemon in the group with eyes similar to Bethany's, excitedly waving her little fists.

When Jocelyn saw Daemon looking at her, she gave him a gentle smile and raised her hand to reassure him. Her eyes were as loving as a true mother's. Otto Hightower stood beside the king, dressed in a green and gold court robe, with a formulaic smile on his face, but his eyes were subtly scanning Daemon's followers.

His daughter, Alicent Hightower, as the personal maid of the old king and queen, stood behind the king and queen, wearing an elegant gray dress and holding a brocade box containing the antidote pouch that Queen Alysanne had specially prepared for Daemon that day.

The Grand Maester Alar leaned on a cane, his white beard hanging down to his chest. He had always been in good health, but he had recently sprained his back.

As for our good-natured Master of Coin, Earl Lyman Beesbury, he silently put his hands behind his back and looked at the army formation with a deliberately serious expression.

Ser Ryam Redwyne, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, stood guard around the royal family with his six white-robed brethren. Ser Clement Crabb, Ser Harrold Westerling, Lorent Marbrand, and others stood tall and imposing, their white robes standing out sharply in the morning light, carrying...

The hilt of the longsword was polished to a gleaming shine.

They are the king's last protectors and the final line of defense for the royal family.

"The time has come." King Jaehaerys's voice was not loud, but it clearly resounded throughout the entire city gate square.

He released his wife Alysanne's hand and slowly stepped forward. "Little Daemon, the rebellion in the Iron Islands must end, and order in the Sunset Sea must be restored. In the name of the Kings of the Seven Kingdoms, I command you to lead the Eastern Allied Forces straight to Pyke and make those treacherous Ironborn pay the price."

"I will not fail you, Grandfather." Daemon dismounted, knelt on one knee, and lightly tapped the hilt of his Blackfyre on the ground, making a crisp sound.

"Remember, you are not only the commander-in-chief of the Allied Forces, but also a descendant of the Targaryen." Queen Alysanne stepped forward and placed a brocade pouch in his hand. "Inside is the latest antidote that I had the maesters specially prepare this morning. The Ironborn are treacherous; be careful in all things."

"Thank you, Grandmother." Daemon respectfully accepted the brocade pouch and carefully put it away.

Viserys stepped out from the crowd, dressed in a comfortable dark robe, a gentle smile on his face, "Cousin, leave the logistics to me. You just focus on fighting the enemy at the front. I've already had Leonno prepare the provisions, and the supply depots along the way have been arranged."

Viserys's friend, Sir Leonno Strong, the Master of Laws, stepped forward. His outward appearance was more striking than his inner knowledge; he was tall and had a resolute face.

"Daemon Highness Damon, the Riverlands are my homeland, and I will certainly assist Viserys Highness Viserys in ensuring smooth logistics."

Meanwhile, Leonno's eldest son Harwin Strong, who was guarding him, already looked several sizes taller than Leonno father this year. His muscles were clearly visible under his armor, and he already showed some signs of becoming the future "Breakbones".

After Daemon received a response from Viserys and the other man, he turned his head and his gaze fell on Larys Strong in his own group of followers.

Larys was leading a gray donkey, the pet "Mr. Longlegs" that Harwin had given him when he left home to follow Daemon on his journey. The donkey's ears were taut, as if it too could sense the solemn atmosphere of the departure.

Larys, seeing Daemon's look, immediately understood and cheerfully handed the donkey rope to Viserys and Harwin of Leonno.

"Brother, I'd like to trouble you to look after it for a while. My lameness probably won't be able to keep up with the cavalry."

Harwin paused for a moment, then took the donkey rope and shook his head helplessly.

Leonno, who had already walked with Viserys toward their carriage, looked back at his second son, who was limping towards them, and his face showed surprise.

"Father, Your Highness Viserys, please forgive my sob story." Larys walked to the carriage, bowed to Viserys, then turned to Leonno and pointed to his limp. "As you can see, my legs are really inconvenient. I can't keep His Highness Daemon waiting for me."

Viserys chuckled and personally lifted the carriage curtain, "Larys, come on up. You helped me out at the Small Council a while ago, and I've always remembered that. With you here, the journey will be more enjoyable."

After thanking him, Larys immediately climbed into the carriage. Before getting in, he turned back and winked at Daemon, his sly look making Daemon shake his head.

He knew that Larys, though seemingly carefree, was actually meticulous, and having him "assist" Viserys with logistics was indeed reassuring.

Daemon remounted his horse and glanced at his followers behind him.

Rayford Rosby, Jarman Waters, Leon Corbray, Lyonel Rupert Crabb, Criston Cole, Willis Fell Rowan, Rickard Olyvar Oakheart, Mace Florent, Lucas Tyrell, Myles Rivers Tommen, House Peake Harlan Hunter twin brothers Arad Tybolt Crakehall House Royce Jorvik House Royce, all mounted their horses, clad in armor bearing their family colors, weapons in hand, their eyes fixed on him with unwavering resolve.

Jarman Waters's single eye gleamed warily in the morning light, his hand resting on the dagger at his waist, constantly watching for any movement around him.

Lyonel Corbray gripped the hilt of Lady Forlorn's sword, the family crest on his armor standing out prominently.

Rupert Crabb grinned, patted Tommen House Peake beside him, and whispered something, which made Tommen laugh as well. "Let's go!" Daemon commanded, his voice booming like a bell.

The Glutton seemed to sense his command, letting out a deafening roar, flapping its wings, and flying towards the Riverlands.

The Grey Ghost immediately followed closely behind, occasionally letting out a few echoing dragon roars.

On the ground, Daemon squeezed his horse's flanks, and the steed neighed and galloped ahead towards the city gates.

"Boom boom boom, tens of thousands of troops followed closely behind, their iron hooves pounding on the stone road with a dull thud, as if the entire King's Landing was trembling."

The phalanx of spears advanced like a moving forest, the wall of shields surged forward, and banners fluttered in the morning breeze. Countless banners, led by the Targaryen dragon banner, intertwined to form a colorful sea.

Among the crowd seeing them off, Gael couldn't help but take a few steps forward, watching Daemon's departing figure, and tears finally streamed down her face.

Jocelyn and Rhaenys gently put their arms around her shoulders, whispering words of comfort. Queen Alysanne wiped her eyes, while King Jaehaerys gripped his scepter tightly, his gaze following the direction of the army, his purple eyes filled with expectation and worry.

Today, besides the people seeing them off, the Gate of the Gods are also accompanied by the dragons of the Targaryen royal family in the sky.

King Jaehaerys's "Bronze Fury" Vermithor, Rhaenys's "Red Queen" Meleys, Queen Alysanne's Silverwing,

Gael's Dreamfyre ----

As for Vhagar, he had already set off a few days earlier with Baelon to join Daemon Targaryen.

The dragons in the sky began to stir as the army departed. Vermithor spread its huge red wings and let out a long dragon roar. Silverwing, Meleys, and Dreamfyre responded, and the four dragon roars intertwined, resounding through the sky like heavenly music, bidding farewell to the departing army.

Dreamfyre seemed particularly reluctant to leave the dragon flock, attempting to circle and fly towards Daemon's direction, but then reluctantly returned at Gael's call. Its enormous wings whipped up gusts of wind, causing people's robes to flutter wildly.

Viserys ' carriage moved slowly forward under Harwin's escort. Inside the carriage, Larys and Leonno were talking in hushed tones about the geography of the Riverlands. Larys's humorous remarks occasionally elicited soft chuckles from Viserys within the carriage.

Outside the carriage, Harwin's sharp eyes scanned his surroundings, his longsword always firmly in his hand, ready to deal with any unexpected situation.

Daemon rode at the head of the procession, his red cloak billowing behind him. He would occasionally turn back to look in the direction of King's Landing, where the outline of the Gate of the Gods gradually blurred, and the crowd seeing them off became tiny black dots.

He knew that this expedition was not only to quell the rebellion in the Iron Islands, but also for his imperial blueprint, to give Gael a stable future, and to let the Dragonfire of the Targaryen illuminate more lands.

Jarman Waters rode up to his side, his one eye still scanning the surroundings warily. "Your Highness, the Three Sisters has joined forces with Lord Corlys, who departed a few days ago. Crahas and Colin are also leading our Dragon's Nest Harbor fleet, the Crab Claw Peninsula Dragon's Roost Port Fleet, and the Crab Island Joint Fleet according to plan, and are expected to arrive at the designated waters in three days."

"Very good." Daemon nodded. "Tell the Marquess Sunderland to keep a close eye on the Ironborn's movements and not give them any chance to break out prematurely."

"Yes," Jarman replied, then slowed down and returned to the backcourt.

Lyonel Corbray spurred his horse forward, the Lady Forlorn in his hand gleaming coldly in the morning light. "Your Highness, Medgar Tully's vanguard has already set off ahead of schedule. Should we hasten our pace, lest he advance recklessly again?"

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"No need." Daemon's lips curled into a faint smile. "Earl Lymond Mallister has already stopped him outside Seagard, and the lords of the Three Rivers may not necessarily listen to Tully."

Upon hearing this, Lyonel said nothing more, simply nodded, and rode back to his position.

The procession continued onward, and the morning light gradually dispelled the morning mist, revealing a clear sky.

In the fields on both sides of the road, farmers stopped their work and looked at the vast army with awe.

They knew that this army would go on a distant campaign to safeguard the peace of the Seven Kingdoms and punish the Ironborn who had burned, killed, and looted.

Daemon looked up at the sky. The Glutton and the Grey Ghost were still circling ahead, and the roar of the dragon could be heard from time to time, intimidating the birds and beasts along the way.

He gripped the reins tightly, his purple eyes gleaming with unwavering resolve. The Iron Islands, the Summer Isles, a transcontinental empire—

One by one, his goals became clear in his mind.

The massive army behind them, like a giant dragon, moved slowly along the Kingsroad, its iron hooves leaving deep imprints on the dust.

The outline of King's Landing receded into the distance, eventually disappearing at the horizon. Only the roars of dragons echoed in the sky, as if telling of the Targaryen's glory and ambition.

Inside Viserys ' carriage, Larys gazed at the scenery rushing past the window, a barely perceptible smile playing on his lips.

He knew that this war was not only the end of the Ironborn, but also the beginning of his Little Daemon's rise to power, and he would have the honor of being one of the most crucial driving forces behind this rise.

Looking at his second son's confident demeanor, Leonno shook his head slightly, but inwardly he felt a growing expectation for his lame son. Little did he know that his second son was also plotting against him.

Gael stood Gate of the Gods, gazing in the direction the army had gone until it was completely out of sight. She pressed the amulet to her chest even tighter and whispered, "I'll wait for you to come back."

The Dreamfyre in the sky let out a long, drawn-out dragon's roar, as if in response to her words.

Queen Alysanne walked to her side and gently patted her shoulder. "Don't worry, he is a descendant of the Targaryen. With the dragons protecting him, he will surely return safely."

Gael nodded, then turned and followed Jocelyn and the others back to King's Landing.

The city gates slowly closed, the iron gates fell, separating the fervor of departure from the sorrow of parting.

Meanwhile, on a distant road, Daemon Blackfyre was leading his army at breakneck speed toward the Riverlands, where a war that would sweep across the Seven Kingdoms was about to begin.

The sounds of the army's footsteps, horses' hooves, and clashing weapons mingled together, echoing the dragon's roar in the sky, reverberating across the land of Westeros and heralding the arrival of a new era.

The name Daemon Blackfyre will spread throughout every corner of the Seven Kingdoms with this war, becoming an indelible mark in the annals of history.