Chapter 149: The Siege of Tyrosh, just after 2 PM

For the attacking side, a siege is extremely difficult. If the first charge fails to breach the walls, there will be a second and third. However, if poor leadership results in heavy casualties, it can greatly affect morale, and it may even lead to a complete collapse if the enemy breaks through.

Therefore, the battle isn't just marked by the horns of attack. Behind the military formations, various Lords had brought their musicians to play, mostly with small drums and hand drums. The most prominent among them were the Dornish, who had a full range of instruments. The Stormlands and the Reach had frequently fought against Dorne, and Robert hadn't allowed the three regions to stand together; instead, the North and the West were positioned with Dorne sandwiched between them.

The Northmen and the Westermen, who weren't familiar with Dorne, heard the strange tunes played by the Dornish to boost morale. It felt as though they were performing snake tricks for money. The Westerlanders and Northmen were bewildered, unable to move in the military formation, all of them wearing grim expressions.

The formation was laid out with the West, Dorne, the North, the King's forces, the Reach, the Stormlands, and the Iron Islands in rows. A large number of shield-bearers were positioned at the front, while behind them, soldiers held ladders. Apart from the messengers, the King didn't ride, as cavalry wasn't necessary on this island.

Many commanders had their formations ready but were worried about the large casualties the siege would incur. Without siege equipment, the battle would be exceptionally difficult, especially since it had only been half a day since landing. It was clear that this wasn't the decision of a commander with battlefield experience.

However, both Robert and Barristan were experienced generals, and no one expected them to make such a mistake. Many began to speculate that Robert might not like the commanders, deliberately sending them to their deaths.

Over ten thousand men stood ready for the assault, but the order to advance had yet to come, causing increasing impatience on the battlefield.

Barristan, equally anxious, pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. He walked over to Robert. "Your Majesty, it's already past 2 PM."

Robert looked toward the northern sky. "Wright told me that Odahviing is always late. I've delayed for an hour already, but there's still no sign!"

Renly and Robert always stayed close on the battlefield, with Renly guarding Robert. Renly was dressed in extravagant armor, adorned with golden floral patterns and green gemstones, constantly displaying his wealth.

Renly had the best eyesight among those in the know. He scanned the northern sky and suddenly spotted a small point in the sky that didn't move like a bird. He raised his hand and pointed. "Robert! It's here!"

Robert and the Kingsguard turned to the sky, clearly seeing the small point growing larger. Now, they could distinguish its body and the flapping of its wings.

Robert said, "Barristan, begin the operation!"

"Understood, Your Majesty!" Barristan put on his helmet and began issuing orders to the messengers. Once the messengers received their commands, they rode to the flanks of the army.

"Hold the position!"

"Hold the position!"

"What? Are the enemies breaking out?" Many people asked in confusion.

"This is an island. The seas are completely blocked by us. Where could they break out to? They must want to leave the city for negotiations!"

The letter of surrender Robert had previously sent was found opened, burned by fire, with water damage and illegible text. Robert couldn't possibly accept a surrender. His true goal was to fully annex Tyrosh, and the letter was merely a show to maintain the King's dignity.

The soldiers in the front had already placed their shields on the ground, and the pikemen in the rear were ready for combat.

The shadow of the dragon coming from the north grew larger, and many people had already spotted it.

"Is that a dragon?"

"It's a dragon!"

"A dragon from Tyrosh? Coming to attack us?"

Many soldiers began to waver, and the commanders were equally anxious. With the King still present, they could only keep issuing orders: "Hold your position! Maintain formation!"

The defenders on the walls saw it too, but they couldn't tell which side the dragon belonged to. Prince Renly, however, was resolute: "Blow the horn, fall back from the walls! Quickly! Quickly!"

Just before reaching Tyrosh, the dragon made a sharp turn in the air, shifting from a westward to an eastward flight, aligning with the direction of the walls.

The attacking and defending forces were only 300 meters apart. By the time the dragon arrived, it was already too late to escape. Both sides hoped that the dragon's fire would fall on the enemy.

ANG~~~~~~

The enormous roar echoed across the battlefield, and the dragon's massive form appeared, its golden-red flames lighting up the battlefield even in broad daylight.

The explosive dragonfire struck the walls. The walls, as if made of paper, were obliterated wherever the dragon's flames passed. The flying rubble, raging flames, and the continuous dragonfire reduced over a hundred meters of wall to rubble in an instant.

The soldiers of the Seven Kingdoms, so close to the dragon, could finally feel the immense size of the beast and how small they were in comparison. They felt that even the width of its wings could cover the entire battlefield.

Another blast of dragonfire swept across. The defenders on the walls shot a few arrows, but they were useless. In a moment, they were reduced to ashes, scattered into the air along with the flying rubble. The screams of the surviving defenders reached the ears of the soldiers from the Seven Kingdoms.

Wright: "Odahviing, turn back and spray once more, then head to the inner city!"

Cheers erupted from the ground.

"It's our dragon!"

"There's someone on the dragon's head!"

"Long live the King!"

How would this siege be fought? The walls and defenders were gone; they could simply march in and fight! The cheering soldiers watched as the dragon flew over the walls, turned around, and sprayed more dragonfire at the walls.

The walls of Tyrosh, built to follow the terrain, were less than a kilometer long, and now there were four gaps of over a hundred meters each. The defenders were too busy fleeing to care.

Robert laughed heartily and shouted, "All troops, advance!"

After shouting, he raised his warhammer and charged toward the city of Tyrosh alone.

"Advance!"

The royal troops immediately followed, weapons in hand, rushing to catch up with the King.

When Oberyn saw the dragon, he knew the person on its head was Wright. Dragons had been extinct for over a hundred years, and the people of Westeros hadn't seen a real dragon in generations. They had only seen them in books and illustrations. But now, standing before them, was a 100-meter-long red-and-white dragon. No one could remain calm.

"Master?" Ashara Dayne gasped.

Nymeria: "It's him."

Was it not shocking? It wasn't that they weren't shocked, but many were so stunned they couldn't speak. The common animals they were used to, like pigs, horses, and sheep, were nothing compared to the dragon before them.

Oberyn saw Nymeria in her black Valyrian steel armor. He raised his spear and turned to the Dornish soldiers behind him, shouting, "This battle will be commanded by Nymeria!"

Nymeria looked at Oberyn in surprise. He just nodded and didn't say anything else.

"Dornish people! Charge at the third gap!" Nymeria no longer hesitated and immediately took on the responsibility of leading the battle.

"Kill!"

The royal army in the center of the formation moved, and the other troops immediately followed. This was the moment to show the knights' bravery—whoever was the first to charge into the tower would earn the greatest glory! Except for the dragon in the sky.

"Attack!"

"Attack!"

"Charge!"

"Kill those Tyrosh bastards!"

The shouts on the battlefield were deafening, and the dragon danced wildly in the sky. The Seven Kingdoms' forces surged forward like a tidal wave!

Wright and Odahviing quickly reached the inner city's vicinity.

Wright: "Odahviing! Attack the inner city's towers first. Be careful of heavy crossbows!"

The dragon's head swiftly lowered, its wings beating strongly twice before retracting. From level flight, it immediately dove toward the inner city. Wright gripped the dragon's horns tightly.

The combat ability of a dragon rider in the air depended on the rider's physical condition. A child riding a dragon would be thrown off with even a slight change in direction. In that case, the dragon could only fly straight, reducing its fighting potential.

Wright, with his enhanced physique from the system and magic that kept him from being thrown off, could let Odahviing fly freely in the air. No matter how sharply the dragon maneuvered, Wright could always hold onto its horns and stay on the dragon's head.

The inner city walls were much shorter, and Odahviing breathed a jet of Dragonfire, creating a large gap in the walls.

Wright drew the Bloodskal Blade from his back and struck the dragon's horn with the sword: "Your battle is over, go play in the sky. I'll handle things on the ground!"

Odahviing flapped its wings and began to ascend. Wright moved to the edge of the dragon's head, gripping the scales near its eye socket as he observed the battle below.

The inner city walls had been destroyed, and inside was a sea of flames. The outer city walls had four long breaches, now completely ineffective. The soldiers of the Seven Kingdoms were chasing the Tyrosh soldiers who hadn't managed to retreat to the inner city. The streets were filled with people, and Tyrosh was done for.

Finding a spot where many Tyrosh soldiers had gathered, Wright leaped off the dragon's head, adjusting his posture in midair as he dove toward the crowd.

Jaime Lannister was annoyed. His son and nephew, Donnel Sarsfield, had followed him once again.

The soldiers from the Westerlands knew Donnel was Jaime's squire. He had never been punished for his misdeeds, and many speculated that his mother had an affair with Jaime, making him Jaime's bastard. No one dared stop him when he did whatever he wanted.

Now, in the city fight, the advantage of numbers was diminished due to the narrow streets. A large group of Tyrosh soldiers and their mercenaries blocked their way. Jaime's troops were holding their position for now, waiting for the flanking forces from the Westerlands to surround the enemy before they launched their main assault.

Jaime's soldiers were fighting ahead, and he should have been leading, but for now, he had to stay with Donnel Sarsfield, letting the Hound temporarily lead the troops.

Donnel Sarsfield, holding a longsword, watched the fighting ahead and couldn't find his way in. He walked into a nearby house.

"I'll check if there are any deserters hiding inside! What's going on here, why are there so many mangy beasts?"

Donnel Sarsfield began slashing wildly with his sword.

A large group of animals ran out of the house, and it became a noisy mess inside.

Thud~~~ The sound of something hitting the ground.

"Need some help, Ser Jaime?"

Jaime turned around when he heard the voice. He recognized Wright's voice. He saw Wright in full white plate armor, wearing a stag-horned helmet, looking like a young Robert Baratheon. His armor shimmered with multicolored magical light, and he stood on a low wall beside Jaime, holding a black greatsword and smiling down at Jaime.

"Much appreciated!"

However, from Jaime's vantage point, he could still see a chicken's neck under Wright's feet. The chicken's head was tilted and hanging by the wall, completely dead.