Near the border between Volantis and the territory of the Three Daughters lies a vast and treacherous marshland known as the Weeping Swamp. A dense network of waterways crisscrossed the land, deep mud pits lurked beneath the surface, and miasma filled the air, making passage nearly impossible for large armies.
Lo Quen had long been aware of this region through maps and scout reports. Rather than risking a dangerous crossing, he led his forces along the southern edge of the marshes, aiming directly for Volantis City.
One day, the army reached a wide, open expanse. The Orange Shore of the western Volantis Plains could already be faintly discerned on the distant horizon.
Yet, before they could advance further, a sky-darkening cloud of dust rose from the horizon. Soon, a vast, dark mass of troops appeared at the edge of their vision. At its center stood the Volantis Tigercloaks, a formation clad in silver armor and tiger-skin cloaks. Huge but poorly equipped legions of slaves swarmed the flanks. Further out, countless Dothraki horsemen roared and bellowed, brandishing their scimitars. They were the khalasar led by Khal Moro, stranded abroad when the Holy City burned—men who hated Lo Quen with a vengeance.
This force, exceeding sixty thousand strong, blocked Lo Quen's path.
"Form ranks!" Lo Quen's officers barked the command.
Twenty thousand cavalry swiftly deployed into battle formation. Fifteen hundred Dragon Soul Guards anchored firmly at the formation's core. Though vastly outnumbered, this army radiated a fearless resolve, starkly contrasting the chaotic clamor of the opposing coalition.
Malaquo Maegyr sat atop a towering warhorse at the vanguard of the Tiger Cloak Army. His heart pounded violently as he spotted the two coiling dragons in the distance. He raised his hand high and brought it down with a fierce swing.
"Scorpion crossbows, prepare!"
Within the allied ranks, hundreds of massive scorpion crossbows—their arms thick as a grown man's thigh—were pushed to the front lines. Armor-piercing arrows nearly ten feet long were drawn taut on the crossbow strings, their menacing barbs all aimed at the two targets in the sky. The soldiers operating them were seasoned veterans, nervously adjusting their angles.
"For the Glory of Volantis!" Malaquo bellowed hoarsely. "Fire!"
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The roar of the crossbow strings echoed in succession. Hundreds of massive bolts tore through the air, hurtling toward the low-flying Blooddancer and Silverfall.
Lo Quen's eyes narrowed sharply as he immediately commanded Blooddancer to evade. The red dragon let out a furious roar, its massive frame displaying astonishing agility as it abruptly banked upward. Yet the volley was too dense; several arrows still grazed its wing membranes. One even slammed into the scales on its belly with a heart-stopping thud, shattering the scales and leaving a gruesome bloody gash. Blooddancer roared in pain and rage.
Silverfall faced an even more perilous situation. Jaelena's riding skills and bond with the dragon were far inferior to Lo Quen's. Compounding this, Silverfall lacked Blooddancer's slender agility, making its movements comparatively slower. A massive arrow whizzed past, grazing its neck and sending a gust of wind that stripped away several silver scales. Another arrow narrowly missed the underside of its wing bone—a mere hair's breadth away from causing severe injury.
Jaelena gasped, gripping the saddle ropes tightly as the silver dragon let out a cry of terror and alarm.
Blooddancer and Silverfall were still too young; the hordes of scorpion crossbows posed an overwhelming threat. Lo Quen watched the crossbow formations below slowly rise once more, then glanced at the shaken Jaelena. His gaze turned icy cold.
"Climb! Into the clouds!" he commanded Blooddancer and Silverfall simultaneously through their soul link.
The two dragons instantly halted their descent, flapping their massive wings with all their might as they surged skyward. Soon, they vanished into the thick cloud cover below. The allied soldiers below froze for a moment at the sight, then erupted in thunderous cheers.
"The dragons have fled!"
"We scared them off!"
"Long live the Triarch! Long live the Scorpion Crossbows!"
Malaquo Maegyr, overcome with triumph, brandished his sword and roared with laughter. "See that?! This is the might of Volantis! The Eastern Sorcerer's toy dragons are nothing! Charge! Crush them!"
The allied forces' morale soared. War drums thundered deafeningly as the vast formation surged forward like a tidal wave. Dothraki cavalry let out savage war cries, charging ahead in the vanguard. They believed the scales of victory had tipped in their favor.
Yet their cheers were short-lived.
Above, dense clouds suddenly churned violently. A low, oppressive sound pierced the clouds, striking the heart of every soldier who looked up. What was that sound?! Far more terrifying than any dragon's roar before!
The clouds were torn apart by an irresistible, colossal force!
A golden figure, colossal beyond anyone's wildest imagination, plunged down from the clouds. It was not the red dragon from before! Nor was it the silver dragon! This was a colossal dragon, its entire body covered in golden scales.
Its immense form cast a shadow that engulfed half the battlefield, while the hurricane-force winds generated by its spread wings whipped up sand and stones across the ground. The golden dragon's head resembled a small mountain. Its molten-gold eyes burned with icy fury. From its gaping maw erupted a torrent of golden flame, as intense as the sun's core, instantly engulfing a squadron of Tiger cloaks soldiers.
"A dragon! Another dragon! An even greater dragon!"
Desperate screams erupted from the Volantis camp. All cheers were utterly crushed in that instant, replaced by boundless terror and horror.
The maniacal grin on Malaquo Maegyr's face froze solid. His mouth gaped open, eyes nearly bulging from their sockets, as he stared dumbly at the golden colossus that seemed to descend from the heavens, his mind going blank.
"Impossible... absolutely impossible!"
He rubbed his eyes, confirming his vision before a cold sweat broke out on his back. Malaquo recalled how years ago, the Seven Kingdoms had launched a massive fleet to attack the Stepstones, only to be defeated by rumors of a golden dragon. After that, no one had ever seen that golden dragon again. Malaquo had assumed it was merely an excuse the Seven Kingdoms used to justify their defeat. He never imagined it could be real!
Lo Quen, transformed into a two-hundred-foot golden dragon, fixed his icy gaze upon the scorpion crossbow formations below, which now resembled mere toys. The crossbow bolts that had once threatened Blooddancer and Silverfall now seemed laughably slow in his eyes.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Terrified crossbowmen instinctively fired their bolts. Dozens of massive bolts whistled toward the golden dragon's belly.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
A teeth-grinding clash of metal erupted. Most of the specially crafted armor-piercing bolts bounced off the enormous golden dragon scales. A handful barely pierced the outer scales, yet lacked the force to penetrate further, merely embedding themselves in the dragon's incredibly resilient hide, barely drawing any blood.
To Lo Quen, now transformed into a colossal dragon, such damage felt like mosquito bites.
Without pause, his massive jaws opened once more.
BOOM!!!!!
A torrent of golden destruction swept ruthlessly across the entire scorpion crossbow formation. Both the heavy crossbow mechanisms and the soldiers operating them vaporized instantly upon contact with the golden flames, turning into a swirling cloud of charred carbon and metallic debris. Over a hundred expensive war machines were utterly obliterated in a single sweep of dragon's breath!
Immediately afterward, Lo Quen turned his massive dragon form and launched an assault upon the Volantis army's formation. Beneath his golden Dragonfire, neither the elite Tiger Cloak soldiers nor the fearless Dothraki possessed any power to resist. They were instantly engulfed by the dragon's fire.
These scenes utterly shattered the last shred of resistance will within the allied forces.
"A monster... He's a god..."
Soldiers dropped their weapons, kneeling to mutter in terror, some even succumbing to complete mental collapse.
Meanwhile, Lo Quen's own forces erupted in earth-shaking cheers.
"Long live Your Grace!"
Mistaking the golden dragon for Lo Quen's mount, the soldiers roared in unison. Immediately after, under Luo Wen's command, the Third Daughter's cavalry surged like a black torrent into Volantis's crumbling lines.
The defeat came like a mountain collapsing! The Tiger Cloak Army still managed to maintain their formation, but the Slave Army had already begun to flee in organized retreat. The fierce but undisciplined Dothraki, having lost their numerical advantage and morale, faced an enemy army that was tightly organized, well-equipped, and supported by the terrifying aerial presence of the dragon. Their bravery devolved into the chaotic floundering of headless flies.
Malaquo Maegyr, shielded by his bodyguards' desperate protection, attempted to rally his troops, but it was all in vain. He watched helplessly as his army crumbled beneath the shadow of the golden dragon and the merciless slaughter of the Three Daughters' cavalry. The last trace of color drained from his face, leaving only despair.
He understood.
The defeat of Volantis was certain.
...
If you'd like to support my work and unlock advanced chapters, you can follow me on P@treon.
[Upto 50 chapters ahead for now]
[email protected]/BlurryDream