Chapter 552: The Fall of the City

The Iron Fleet struck the port of Lannisport like a bolt from the blue, tearing through the city's defenses. Once a chink appeared in its impregnable armor, the walls crumbled like a cascade of snow.

Dragonfire shattered the walls of Lannisport, and the Targaryen forces surged into the city. Oberyn Martell, spear in hand, led the charge. His eyes were ablaze, his body soaked in the blood of enemies.

"Die!"

An enemy soldier from House Lannister, feigning death on the ground, lunged at Oberyn in a desperate attempt at assassination.

Thrust—

Oberyn, the Red Viper, was quicker. His spear pierced the soldier's chest, and blood spurted like a fountain. The dying man's eyes carried a look of defiance as he drew his last breath.

"Dig three feet into the ground and find Tywin, that old cur! He must not escape!" Oberyn, covered in blood, roared, his eyes bloodshot.

He had waited too long for this day. Tywin was finally defeated; victory was within reach.

Roar!

The Targaryen soldiers echoed their commander's battle cry, drawing their swords to finish off the remaining Westerlanders clinging to life.

The Western forces had put up a fierce resistance. The city had been loyal to House Lannister, and the Targaryens had paid a heavy price for their conquest.

Tywin Lannister, a master of warfare in Westeros, had denied Oberyn any opportunity to gain the upper hand. Oberyn had felt helpless at times.

However, no fortress is impregnable. Oberyn had found Tywin's weak point and exploited it, breaking the city's indomitable spirit.

Yet, this did not mean Tywin was inferior. The Targaryens had dragons, after all. Tywin's resolute defense of the Westerlands for months was commendable. He had even pushed Oberyn to the brink.

Months ago, the Riverlands had joined the fray, cutting off the Targaryen army's supply line. Tywin had then trapped the Targaryen forces between his armies, putting them at risk of total annihilation.

Oberyn had taken a desperate gamble, plunging deeper into the Westerlands, heading towards Casterly Rock.

The fortress, as its name suggested, was a castle atop a massive rock. Its walls were impregnable, never having fallen in history. But Tyrion had told Oberyn a secret about Casterly Rock.

As a child, Tyrion and Jaime had played in the Hall of Heroes underneath Casterly Rock, the Lannister family crypt near the sea. Tyrion remembered the sound of thunder each time the tide came in.

Tyrion had discovered a hidden passage leading from the Hall of Heroes to the sea, large enough for a ship. Oberyn had used this information, leading a desperate attack straight into Casterly Rock.

Caught off guard, the Lannister forces lost control of the city gates, and the Targaryen army poured in, capturing a fortress that had never been taken.

Tywin Lannister could only lament the loss of his stronghold.

Dragons had finally turned the tide. Daenerys Targaryen had flown in on Rhaegal to rescue Oberyn, forcing the Lannister army to retreat and regroup in the wilderness. They waged a guerrilla war against the dragonfire that rained down upon the Westerlands.

And now, the Targaryen army had surrounded Lannisport, the largest and most populous city in the Westerlands, igniting the final battle of this western front.