The Siege of King's Landing-Wildfire Ritual

"Where are you going?!"

While Tyrion was arranging the city's defenses, he glanced at his good nephew Joffrey and discovered that the guy had secretly gotten up and left the spot he had assigned him.

Tyrion quickly came to his side and grabbed the king's nephew's long wrist with his short hand.

"I... I want to go back to the Red Keep!"

"What if I don't allow it?!"

"I am the king, it is not your place to command me. If you obstruct me, I, I will—"

"So what? You want to convict me? We'll talk about that after Stannis leaves! Now, get back here right now!"

Tyrion threatened fiercely, even raising a hand to slap Joffrey.

Upon seeing Tyrion raise his hand to slap him, Joffrey instinctively flinched.

Then I looked at his enormous forehead, his deep-set eyes, and his almost nonexistent nose. the Imp lived up to his name.

Joffrey had no choice but to obediently follow him back. With someone keeping an eye on Joffrey, Tyrion returned to his command position.

He felt as if the bronze telescope in his hand was welded to his head. He saw that most of Stannis's fleet had already entered the Blackwater channel.

Many ships were already slowly approaching the shore, attempting to land. During this process, he would naturally organize a symbolic counterattack.

The sparse arrows were barely a mosquito bite to the massive fleet, and the enemy's "fleet commander" seemed quite experienced, with all the sails lowered to prevent a fire attack.

Tyrion turned his telescope to look at the small boat upstream.

That was his biggest trump card; there were more than a dozen modified speedboats.

Every ship was laden with Wildfire. Tyrion still remembered the Alchemists' Guild showing him the power of Wildfire.

They used houses and armored pigs and sheep for their experiments.

As a result, the hellish flames would not go out until everything that could be ignited was completely burned away.

"The spell to create Wildfire seems to be more powerful," Tyrion thought, the words of the Pyromancer who created Wildfire echoing in his mind. Although he didn't know what the power of the spell depended on, Tyrion felt very lucky.

The sky had darkened, and the ships could only be seen as outlines.

Tyrion kept his eyes fixed on the small boats, those boats laden with Wildfire like arrows poised to be released, and he kept calculating and estimating the distance between the Wildfire ships and Stannis's fleet.

"My Lord Hand, Stannis has less than thirty ships left before they all enter the Blackwater," Podrick reported to Tyrion.

This was another bodyguard he had chosen for himself; Tyrion was really not comfortable entrusting his safety entirely to the Kingsguard sent by Cersei.

"Understood. From now on, you'll follow me," Tyrion ordered, then turned to a blond soldier, and as if making a decision, said in a somber voice, "Signal! Burn them all!"

The soldiers, having received their orders, stood on the battlements, waving torches at the Wildfire boats on the river.

Upon receiving the signal, the small boats raised their sails and sailed downstream like arrows aimed at Stannis's fleet.

"Hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry!"

Tyrion's telescope spun as the small boats moved.

500 feet -- 300 feet -- 200 feet -- 50 feet --

Tyrion swallowed hard, sweat pouring down his body.

Not only him, but every pair of eyes on the city wall followed the movement of those small boats.

It was as if they could use their gaze to give those small boats laden with Wildfire a little more speed.

When the people on the boat were still twenty or thirty feet away from the small boat, they threw torches into the cabin and then jumped into the water.

Immediately afterwards, a flash of white light appeared.

No, that wasn't white light; it was emerald green firelight, only it was too dazzling.

Everyone was momentarily stunned by the sudden explosion.

Green flames burst open one after another. The warships advancing at the forefront were instantly ignited, and green Wildfire flew everywhere.

The greedy green flame serpent swallowed up the entire first row of twenty warships in the blink of an eye!

The warships, suddenly attacked, tried to retreat, but behind them were even more and larger warships.

The green fire ritual officially began. With the help of the strong winds, the green flames quickly spread to the second row of warships.

At this moment, the emerald green flames began to show a faint yellow glow.

By the time they reached the third column, the yellow light became even more conspicuous. It was only then that the warships at the rear of the fleet realized what had happened ahead and began to try to retreat.

But for some reason, the fleet stopped shortly after retreating. The massive fleet writhed and struggled in place, like an eel that had been doused with hot oil.

As the fire spread rapidly, countless sailors and soldiers rushed to jump into the icy water.

"Let me see!" Joffrey suddenly appeared out of nowhere and snatched the binoculars from Tyrion's hand.

The green firelight cast a green glow on his face, but the smile on his lips was hard to hide.

He kept adjusting the focus of his binoculars, as if trying to get a closer look, and soon he locked onto the Fury in the warship.

That was Stannis's command ship.

He once sailed on the Fury to conquer Dragonstone, the last Targaryen territory.

Joffrey wanted to see the Fury consumed by Wildfire, but the Fury was positioned too far back to be burned immediately.

But that's alright, there are boats all around it.

The Winch Tower behind had already raised the iron chains, and the yellow-hulled Fury looked like a caged beast, unable to move forward or backward.

Tyrion looked at Joffrey, who was grinning foolishly through the telescope, and wanted to shoo him away.

But after looking at his thirteen-year-old nephew and his crown, he hesitated for a moment and decided against it. At least he wasn't afraid now and could focus on being a mascot.

"Alright, let's go back. When this war is won, people will remember that it was King Joffrey I who led us to victory against Stannis the Usurper." Tyrion coaxed him away from his side in a tone as if he were a child.

When Joffrey returned to his position, he smugly straightened his armor.

Tyrell knew that although Stannis had walked into a trap, the real battle had not yet begun.

Soldiers had already landed on the north bank of the Blackwater and were preparing to attack King's Landing. In the woods north of King's Landing, Sola and a group of North soldiers were looking up at the south.

Even the sky was now illuminated green by the Wildfire. This extraordinary sight reminded Jon of the aurora borealis he had once witnessed.

"Jon." Sola called out as soon as she saw Jon wake up.

"Order the soldiers to bring the siege ladders. We're starting the attack!"

Although Jon volunteered to be the vanguard of the army, he was generally considered a 'vanguard officer' and did not necessarily have to be at the very front.

But to boost morale, he charged to the front, because the ones carrying the engineering ladders were ordinary soldiers, or more precisely, House Bolton soldiers under Jon's command.

There weren't many people, but there were still six or seven hundred. This was also to conserve the energy of the heavy armored soldiers who were the real force for breaching the city.

To let them know that they weren't being used as cannon fodder, Jon joined them in carrying ladders and charging forward, which changed the attitudes of some Dreadfort soldiers who had previously harbored resentment towards him.

The sudden explosion attracted more than just the North soldiers hiding in the woods.

The Gold Cloaks guards on the city walls were also drawn to the view, and at that moment they all looked up at the sky, none of them remaining on guard.

Because Tyrion anticipated that Stannis's main attack would be from River Gate, he redeployed a significant portion of his troops from other gates and directions.

Through the Gods' Eye, Jon could sense that the guards at the Old Gate numbered only six or seven hundred.

The quality of these six or seven hundred guards was also quite average; most of them were newly recruited soldiers of the Gold Cloaks Guard.

Not long ago, they might have been craftsmen in Smith, apprentices in a leatherworker's shop, or accountants in a tailor's shop.

Therefore, their battlefield vigilance was extremely poor.

Jon ordered each soldier to have a stone in their mouth to ensure they made no sound before getting as close to the walls as possible.

Go in a little more, go in a little more!

As Jon and his army drew nearer, the King's Landing grew ever taller.

This is nothing like a small town Rosby.

The Dreadfort soldiers at the front wished they could disappear into the darkness.

In order to get close to the city walls quickly, Jon didn't even have them wear armor.

This meant that once discovered, they would have to face rolling stones and arrows with their bare hands.

thud-

When the first engineering ladder was erected on the city wall, some soldiers finally realized what was happening.

A soldier who had previously worked as a tailor looked down and saw a group of soldiers carrying engineering ladders, each dozens of feet long, surging towards the base of the city wall.

Behind them stood a group of soldiers clad in white armor.

The white armor was very conspicuous in the darkness, like the scales of a silver fish.

"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!!!"

The tailor soldiers shouted in panic, and these soldiers, temporarily added to bolster the defenses, scrambled to grab bows and arrows and weapons.

In just a short while, four or five siege ladders had already completed their mission.

Even in the darkness, the sparse arrows are difficult to aim.

After fighting for a long time, only a dozen or so people were hit by arrows.

Meanwhile, Jon was already preparing to climb the siege ladder.

"Lord Jon, let me go first!" Martin chimed in, trying to persuade him.

Get out of my way!

There's no room for gentle words on the battlefield; I must capture the Old Gate as quickly as possible, ideally before the defenders have time to relay a message.

He carried a sword in one hand and climbed with the other, ascending at a near-constant speed, quickly surpassing all the soldiers.

His prominent position naturally attracted the attention of the soldiers on the city wall.

Arrows and rolling stones began to rain down on Jon.

But he thwarted them all.

grown ups--"

Martin was so angry at the sight that he almost popped his eyes out.

Is this even human?

He saw that Qiong Hu didn't even slow down when he was blocking; instead, he climbed the city wall at an even faster speed.

Realizing what was happening, Martin shouted to the heavily armored soldiers behind him, "See that?! The lord is at the forefront! Charge! Charge! Charge now!"

Encouraged by Qiong Hu, the soldiers, relying on their sturdy and heavy armor, began to rush towards the city wall one by one.

Within minutes, the city walls were covered with soldiers clad in white armor.

"Quickly! Report to the Lord Hand that enemy troops are attacking the city from the direction of the Old Gate! Say there are approximately one, if not a thousand, enemy soldiers!"

By this time, it was completely dark, and the officer could no longer estimate how many people were attacking the city.

We can only estimate the number of people to be higher.

He would never have imagined that the so-called thousand artists were not even a fraction of the enemy's actual number.

Just as he was about to organize a counterattack, a young soldier climbed up.

He shouted at the group of soldiers who looked like new recruits, "I am Jon Snow, son of Eddard Stark! I killed the Mountain! Those who don't want to die, lay down your weapons and surrender now!"

Qiong shouted loudly at the new recruits, "If we can use our reputation to instill fear in the enemy, that would be ideal!"

However, it was clear that this officer was unwilling to give up so easily.

He drew his sword and said, "What utter nonsense! This son of a bitch is lying! Kill him! Kill him and reward him with five hundred gold pieces!"

Before the officer could finish speaking, a grayish-white shadow flashed by.

A Direwolf suddenly leaped out and bit his neck.

A tearing sound, like cloth being ripped, rang out, and scalding crimson blood began to spurt from the officer's neck.

Soon, one heavily armored soldier after another jumped onto the city wall.

Faced with these elite soldiers, they didn't even have the courage to fight a beggar.

Some of the more timid soldiers threw down their spears and ran wildly home.