The Next Day
The sky was clear, and clouds floated leisurely.
Three dragons soared over the Dorne desert, entering The Reach. Rhaegar rode the Cannibal in front, glancing back at the two dragons trailing behind.
The Sheepstealer crept forward, with Aemond lowering his head to pull a blue eye from its socket. He took a breath, wiped his eye, and put the blue eye back in place. Aegon, meanwhile, was slumped over Sunfyre's back, looking utterly dejected.
"Tsk!"
Rhaegar sighed as he wiped the blade of his great sword. The sword was long and thick, with a meteor pattern carved on its surface, and the blade was pale like milky glass.
A voice interrupted his thoughts.
"This exploration is complete. Please pick up the lost treasure."
Rhaegar's eyes lit up as the system panel appeared.
[Dawn]
Exploration Progress: 100%
Rhaegar's mouth curled up slightly, and his eyes searched the area. On the edge of the saddle, a purple halo the size of a ball floated, bobbing up and down.
Rhaegar reached out and touched it. The aura shattered, turning into a small purple light that entered his palm.
"Relic successfully picked up, testing..."
"Detection successful. Judged to be an epic relic, the Heart of the Stars."
"As expected, it's at least an epic relic," Rhaegar thought to himself, and a milky white iron ingot called the Heart of the Stars appeared in his mind.
As he thought about it, the iron ingot fell from the sky. Rhaegar quickly reached out and grabbed it. It was quite heavy.
Without wasting any time, he checked the trigger clue provided by the explorer.
"The fallen star, absorbing the magic of the stars, awakens the mysterious treasure."
Rhaegar raised an eyebrow and whispered, "Magic of the stars?"
It was the first time he had heard that stars had magic. In the past, he had only heard that the Rhoynar had water mages and the ancient Valyria had fire mages.
The stars...
"When I was a child, I went to flea markets with Rhaenyra, and only the charlatans talked about the stars and the moon."
Rhaegar shook his head and laughed, then put away the great sword and the Heart of the Stars.
The hint was very clear. The magic of stars awakens the secret treasure. I'll try it out under the night sky tonight.
"Rhaenyra is eight months pregnant."
Rhaegar let his thoughts wander, remembering the letter Rhaenyra had sent him. His father had been in a coma all day and had not managed the government for a long time. Alicent was constantly stirring up trouble, gathering disgraced nobles she had secretly recruited, acting as if she were facing a great enemy.
Rhaenyra was pregnant and unable to walk, so she lay in bed and participated in Small Council meetings, hoping that he would find time to return to King's Landing.
The people are in a panic and need encouragement.
"Roar!"
As Rhaegar's thoughts drifted, Cannibal flew over land and into a bay. Rhaegar looked down and recognized Whispering Sound, the location of Oldtown. The bay was narrow and deep, resembling a banana from above.
Cannibal soared over the eastern tip of Whispering Sound, where the Three Towers, a fortress loyal to House Hightower, stood.
"Ah, so it's Oldtown again," Aegon sighed as he climbed off Sunfyre's back.
Aemond, muttering to himself, added, "Oldtown is nice. It's cleaner and prettier than King's Landing." It's no wonder Mother hated King's Landing and always missed her childhood.
"Roar!"
Cannibal's pupils suddenly fixed on a patch of land, and it roared as it swooped down.
Rhaegar's eyes widened as he saw a group of dark-skinned refugees within the territory of the Three Towers. They rushed into the village, looting like hungry wolves.
Boom!
A shower of dark green Dragonfire fell from the sky, engulfing more than a hundred refugees. The crackling sound was followed by sudden silence.
Rhaegar carefully examined the scene below. The refugees wore leather armor under their ragged clothes, and they were all dark-haired and dark-skinned Dornish people. Some carried a small flag with a black vulture on a yellow background, a baby in its beak.
"They're from House Blackmont!" Aemond, following on the Sheepstealer, was the first to identify the group. The loss of an eye had left an indelible mark on his young mind. He knew every noble house in Dorne and their corresponding crests by heart.
Rhaegar glanced at them briefly before continuing on his way on the Cannibal. House Blackmont, like House Dayne, was not wealthy, but after the Dragon's Wrath, they had managed to muster a force of 2,000 men. Intelligence reported that 1,000 men had entered The Reach. Apparently, they had the idea of looting goods from the start.
"Let's keep moving," Rhaegar commanded, steering the Cannibal back on course.
...
The largest and oldest city in Westeros, Oldtown was built by the First Men long before the Andal invasion. Nestled in the southwest corner of The Reach, it sits where the Honeywine River flows into the estuary of Whispering Sound and the Sea of Sorrows, boasting naturally endowed harbor resources. Under House Hightower's rule, it stands as one of the five largest ports in Westeros.
At this moment, the port bustled with activity, filled with crowds and a variety of ships. If not for the ongoing conflict, the number of people and ships would surely double.
Oldtown's elegant layout, with its canals, cobblestone streets, and hidden southern water town charm, contrasts sharply with the power center of King's Landing. Clean and refreshing, it resembles a beautiful maze.
The towering Hightower serves as the residence of the lord. In a luxurious bedroom, Ormund paced back and forth in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, his face anxious. His frown and clenched jaw betrayed his unease.
"Damn it, the Dornish haven't finished looting the farm yet, and now the prince is meddling," Ormund muttered, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
The Dornish threat was manageable; theycouldn't breach Oldtown's gates. But with the king's failing health, House Hightower had to prepare and summon their vassals and Aegon's grandchildren. His younger brother and niece had coveted the throne for years, undermining the heir prince at every turn. If the king died, House Hightower might face retribution.
In the past, Oldtown couldn't withstand the Conqueror's black dragon, Balerion. Now, Rhaegar Targaryen's black dragon, the Cannibal, posed a similar threat.
As the Lord of Oldtown brooded, a deep, magnetic voice interrupted.
"Brother, you are troubled."
Ormund turned sharply to see Otto, looking indifferent, holding a glass of wine near the door. "The heir prince hasn't even arrived yet, andyou're already so scared?" Otto asked, peering through the ruby red summer wine in his glass.
It was unbecoming to be afraid before the battle.
Ormund, seizing a reason for anger, approached the table quickly and hissed, "You enjoy the power and nourishment of King's Landing, what do you know?"
The Dragon's Wrath could be unleashed at any moment, killing thousands of Dornish nobles and casting their bodies into an altar. Even Maegor the Cruel hadn't gone this far.
Otto took a sip of wine, remaining calm. "Don't let negative emotions affect your judgment. I came here to help you."
Having recalled Aegon and Aemond, he knew his grandchildren were unreliable. Rhaegar's reputation was too great for any direct opposition to succeed. In critical moments, Hightower unity was essential.
Ormund, curiosity piqued, asked, "What are you thinking?"
Bang!
Otto dropped his wine glass and countered, "What is the heir prince here for?"
"What else? To wipe out the remnants of Dorne and pay a visit to Oldtown," Ormund replied without thinking, then paused, taken aback by his own words.
Wipe out? Visit?
Otto smiled. "The heir prince's visit to Oldtown is nothing more than a show of force. Oldtown actively participated in the war and he has no leverage over us."
In other words, if you don't expose your weaknesses, you have nothing to fear.
As a member of the House Hightower, he still had some privileges.
Ormund's face brightened, and a smile returned. "So, we just need to be ourselves and treat him normally."
He is the best at hosting banquets.
Apart from the Lannisters in the Westerlands and House Velaryon in Driftmark, House Hightower is the richest family. They have money!
"No," Otto shook his head, his eyes deep. "The prince's visit to Oldtown is not only a deterrent but also has ulterior motives."
He rubbed his fingers against the glass of the wine cup and said thoughtfully, "Who knows, we may even be able to take the initiative and use the Seven Gods' faith and the Citadel to suppress their arrogance."
The Greens and the Blacks have been hostile for a long time, and the Greens have always been suppressed and unable to breathe. Now, on the Green Faction's own turf, they can still be suppressed by outsiders.
Ormund was shocked to hear this, and then it dawned on him that he was the Lord of Oldtown.
According to the tradition of Westeros, a noble's castle is a place where the wind and rain can enter, but the king cannot.
The heir prince is visiting as a guest, so he should respect me! Thinking this, Ormund straightened his back, and a sense of inexplicable confidence welled up in him.
Otto's eyes flashed with a hint of brilliance, and he said with a bow, "The prince is almost here. Don't waste time in this bedroom."
Otto did not look up and replied, "Your wife died the same way as my wife, but as a lord, you should marry another wife."
Ormund was stunned, his mood immediately dropping. He turned and left, "You should have said so earlier. I'll go play with little Lyonel for a while."
Little Lyonel was his son, whose full name was Lyonel Hightower. His wife died the day after giving birth to their son. In order to ensure that his son grows up safely, he has not considered taking another wife.
Bang! The door closed, leaving Otto alone in the bedroom.
Otto looked up again, his eyes flickering, and looked out the window at the scenery, sipping the strong summer red.
The members of Hightower all care deeply about their families and loved ones.
...
Noon.
Above Oldtown.
A black dragon soared through the sky, sending gusts of wind that stirred the ships in the harbor and swept through the city.
Suddenly, a dragon roar as loud as a bell sounded.
"Roar!"
Cannibal took a deep breath, his green pupils gleaming with ferocity, and his roar shook the entire Oldtown.
The residents on the cobblestone streets covered their heads and screamed, feeling as if thunder was striking their ears and making their eardrums vibrate wildly.
Some even fainted on the spot.
Fortunately, the Cannibal only roared once before flapping its wings and soaring into the sky.
Just as the residents let out a sigh of relief, thinking they were safe,
"Roar!"
"Roar..."
Two loud roars echoed in unison.
The Sheepstealer flew swiftly with Aemond into Oldtown, making a special detour around the bell tower of the Starry Sept.
Its rough tail fluttered, causing the bronze bell to ring.
Sunfyre snorted and whinnied, shining golden in the sunlight and showing off its pale pink wings.
The two dragons flew through the city, following the black dragon, which was much larger than them.
Cannibal soared across the wide city, heading straight for the towering tower where House Hightower resided.
A lake flowed into the Honeywine, with a large, fragrant island in the middle.
The island was connected to the city by a bridge, and boats floated on the lake.
The tower stood on the island in the middle of the lake.
Cannibal flew over the lake, and the white tower loomed ahead.
Rhaegar looked at it silently, a strange look in his eyes.
The High Tower lived up to its name, towering over 800 feet high and built entirely of stone.
"When human power is exhausted, this must be a magical building," Rhaegar thought.
Looking down, he saw the gate of the High Tower wide open, with Ormund leading a group of attendants out to greet them. From a high vantage point, they looked like tiny insects.
Rhaegar smiled, his eyes fixed on the top of the tower.
Why hadn't they lit the tower's fire and summoned their vassals to prepare for battle when Dorne invaded?
"Haha, let me help you."
Rhaegar's eyes flashed, and he patted the Cannibal on the back.
"Roar!"
The Cannibal immediately understood, his green pupils full of arrogance, and his wings flapped to surpass the highest point of the High Tower.
Ormund waited on the ground, ready to entertain the heir prince.
Unexpectedly, the black dragon circled once and flew over the top of the High Tower.
"Could it be that the prince wants to enjoy the view from the sky?"
Ormund thought proudly, confident in the beauty of the High Tower.
The next second.
"Roar!"
The black dragon circled the High Tower once, its ferocious dragon's mouth wide open, aiming at the tip of the High Tower.
From a distance, it looked like a terrifying evil god peering into the human world.
Boom
A mouthful of dark green Dragonfire burst out, crashing through the white walls that had stood undamaged for a thousand years and covering the entire spire.
In front of Ormund's eyes, the entire population of Oldtown looked up in shock.
The tower was lit up!
The war-like spire once again glowed green.
Rhaegar's lips curved into a smile as he admired his handiwork.
In contrast, Ormund was frozen in place, as if in a deathly silence, unable to believe what he was seeing.
Until a walnut-sized stone fell from the sky and landed at his feet.
Then a piercing cry of anguish erupted:
"No!"
(Word count: 2,316)