Soon, the thunderous clatter of hooves grew louder as it approached. Lo Quen's main cavalry force had shattered all feeble resistance at the city gates and stormed into the streets of Volantis. The battle erupted swiftly in the city's thoroughfares. The remaining Tiger Cloaks and noble private guards, who stubbornly held their ground, were mercilessly cut down. The Dragon Soul Guards moved with terrifying efficiency. More soldiers and citizens either surrendered at the first sign of the advancing force or hid themselves away.
Before long, the army reached the vast plaza where the Red Temple stood. Upon seeing the Fiery Hand holding their weapons, the cavalry quickly dispersed and surrounded the grand yet isolated structure. Lo Quen, now back in human form, rode Blooddancer as he landed in the plaza before the Red Temple. His expression was cold as he surveyed the Fiery Hands blocking the temple entrance. They were tense but steadfastly holding their spears.
"Lay down your weapons. Disband your forces."
Lo Quen's voice rang in every Fiery Hand warrior's ears. "From this day forward, under my rule in Volantis, no private armed forces of any kind shall exist. Disobedience will be met with death."
The heavy doors of the Red Temple creaked open. Benerro appeared in the doorway, his pallid face expressionless.
"Your Grace, these are servants of the One True God, the Lord of Light. They are the guardians of the Red Temple. Their arms are permitted by the divine to defend their faith..."
"God?"
Lo Quen scoffed, cutting him off. "Before my law, no god stands above it. I say this once more: lay down your weapons and disarm yourselves. Otherwise, you will be reduced to ash along with this temple."
His words left no room for negotiation. Lo Quen clearly remembered how Malaquo, the Tiger Party Triarch, had once tried to hire the Golden Company to purge the Red Temple and kill Benerro—only to be refused. Furthermore, remnants of the Red Temple still stood in the Dothraki holy city. Those barbarians had destroyed countless Free Cities and slaughtered countless red priests, yet the Lord of Light had never intervened. He had no qualms about eliminating this group of militants.
Blooddancer seemed to sense his master's murderous intent, letting out a low growl as scorching breath hissed on the plaza's stone slabs. The Dragon Soul Guards surrounding them took a step forward, locking their sights on the Fiery Hand. Benerro fell silent. He met Lo Quen's icy gaze, then glanced at the surrounding cavalry, radiating cold killing intent, and the silver dragon circling high above. He knew any resistance would be futile.
Malaquo's attempt to purge the Red Temple by force had failed, and now the true power of destruction stood before them. He locked eyes with Lo Quen and sighed.
"Your Grace, grant us a moment. We must pray to our Lord, seeking His guidance and forgiveness."
Lo Quen narrowed his eyes, a cold smile creeping into his thoughts, but he nodded. "Before sunset, all must lay down their weapons and come out. If not, I will personally enter and 'invite' you out."
Benerro bowed slightly, said no more, and turned to lead the Fiery Hand back into the temple. The heavy doors slowly closed, sealing the inside from view. Lo Quen waited patiently.
Time passed, and the setting sun sank lower, painting the horizon crimson—a hue that mirrored the still-burning flames inside Volantis. From within the temple, the low, fervent chanting of prayers first echoed—the distinct melody of the Red Temple's monks. Gradually, however, other sounds began to mix with the prayers, along with an odd crackling noise.
Soon, wisps of thick smoke started to seep from the temple's tall windows and vents, followed quickly by flames leaping upward. The fire spread at an astonishing speed, engulfing the entire magnificent Red Temple in a raging inferno in moments. Orange-red flames licked hungrily at the colorful walls and towers, cracking and popping with deafening explosions. Yet eerily, amid the roaring flames and thick smoke, the martyr-like chants of the monks and the Fiery Hand could still be faintly heard. They had chosen collective self-immolation!
Lo Quen's brow furrowed tightly, a flash of anger crossing his face. Those damned red priests! Rather than obey his command, they had preferred to destroy themselves in this extreme manner. Did they truly intend to stain him with the label of persecuting faith through such a tragic sacrifice?
"Hmph!"
He snorted coldly, then ordered the Dragon Soul Guards commander beside him,
"Once the fire is extinguished, search every corner inside. Leave no one behind."
"Yes, Your Grace!"
The situation within the castle quickly stabilized. The last pockets of resistance were cleared, and most of the garrison and citizens chose to surrender.
Soon after, the formidable fleet led by Hal of Lys appeared outside the port of Volantis. Huge oar-powered warships completely sealed off the sea. Volantis nobles attempting to flee by ship were captured one after another.
The Volantis fleet moored within the harbor was already underpowered. Upon learning of the Triarch's death and the rampage of the golden dragon, they surrendered en masse with almost no resistance.
Volantis, this ancient city of Black Wall, fell into Lo Quen's control more smoothly than he had anticipated.
The following days were spent settling accounts and reorganizing. Hal interrogated the captured nobles and quickly uncovered that Malaquo Maegyr had indeed orchestrated the raid on the immigrant fleet.
Lo Quen showed no mercy. He ordered the public execution of all nobles involved and their core house members. Their spouses, children, and extended relatives were imprisoned, and their estates confiscated.
"Load these former slave masters onto ships and sell them to the slave masters of Slaver's Bay."
Lo Quen commanded Hal:
"Inform the slave masters of Astapor, Yunkai, and Meereen that these are prime specimens. Let these Volantis nobles taste the flavor of being priced and shackled."
Hal nodded in understanding.
"As you wish, Your Grace. They shall receive their due."
Meanwhile, military operations continued unabated. Lo Quen dispatched Jaelena, riding Silverfall, to lead an army upstream along the Rhoyne, purging remnant Volantis forces and seizing control of towns along the route.
He further ordered Hal to detach part of the fleet to sweep along the Volantis coastline, eliminating pirate strongholds near the Orange Shore that had previously enjoyed Volantis' protection or tacit approval.
These pirates had migrated here after Lo Quen conquered the Third Daughter, posing a severe threat to shipping lanes and demanding eradication.
Victory reports poured in one after another.
The towns of Volon Therys, Valysar, and Selhorys...
These settlements along the Rhoyne surrendered almost without resistance, offering scarcely any meaningful opposition.
Deprived of its Triarch and main army, Volantis's subordinate forces proved utterly fragile.
However, five days later, a report from the Hal Fleet caused Lo Quen to furrow his brow slightly.
The report stated that after successfully clearing pirates from The Orange Shore, Hal dispatched a shallow-draft detachment to ascend the Rhoyne, aiming to purge river pirates. Yet, upon approaching waters near the legendary "The Sorrows," they encountered a bizarre attack.
The attackers were stone men.
The report described them as suddenly appearing, attacking ships and soldiers, with extreme tenacity. The fleet was forced to retreat, with over a dozen soldiers wounded in combat, their wounds infected with grayscale.
Stone men…
The Sorrows...
Lo Quen's heart stirred.
The Sorrows, originally known as Chroyane, was the largest city of the Rhoynar people. Yet a thousand years ago, it fell victim to an assault by the Valyrian Freehold.
Defeated in their struggle against the Valyrian Freehold, the Rhoynar people saw Chroyane destroyed in the war.
Legend holds that after defeating the Rhoynar, the armies of Volantis and Valyria hanged Prince Garin, the Rhoynar leader, in a golden cage. Before his death, Garin summoned the Mother River, the Rhoyne, cursing his enemies.
The Valyrians scoffed, dismissing his words.
That very night, the river swelled suddenly, drowning all the invaders—dragons included.
Ever since, The Sorrows have been shrouded in foreboding and strangeness, giving birth to grayscale.
At this thought, Lo Quen couldn't help but wonder.
Could these stone men be considered magical units?
He pondered briefly. It seemed he should investigate this personally.
...
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