Facing these madmen who dared defy his "draconic majesty," Aegon led the charge with utter composure, his eyes cold toward his enemies.
Again-before I had Warrior Descended, hadn't I been fearless already, thanks to Cole's years of hellish training, everyone else's sparring, and Uncle Daemon's three months of "special tutoring" in the Stepstones three years ago?
Now that I have Warrior Descended, why would I fear you paltry Mountain Clan savages?
He, Aegon Targaryen, was a True Dragon of House Targaryen, born through midsummer birth, with a gold dragon companion, blessed by the Seven, and granted the white hart's favor.
Even outnumbered, he would lead the charge.
The Dothraki stallion beneath him flew like the wind, its hooves crossing the grass with effortless strides as it plunged straight into the crowd.
One man, one horse, utterly fearless.
His silver-gold hair streamed straight behind him in the gale, and Nightfall rippled with a dark sheen in the afternoon sunlight.
Even as he charged into the enemy host, he remained a magnificent sight.
The equally young and hot-blooded Peninsula Knights behind Aegon felt their blood surge to their heads at the sight.
Crackclaw Point was isolated and backward, but these men, whom outsiders viewed as "half-savages," possessed their own pride and honor.
Their sense of honor made them treasure loyalty above all-especially toward this True Dragon of House Targaryen, who had once again transformed Crackclaw Point and recognized the worth of men the world dismissed as "half-savages." How could they not gladly die in his service?
Lubert Celtigar, whom Aegon had personally appointed Crackclaw Point Commander, set his jaw and snatched up the banner. Before Alyn Celtigar-Aegon's personally appointed Crackclaw Point Castellan, his first squire, and a trusted intimate-could act, Lubert raised his arm and shouted:
"The True Dragon has descended!"
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