**Chapter 219: The Dark Dragon Will Reappear in Essos**  

**Nighttime.** 

In a tower room within the Red Keep, Otto and Larys sat across from each other. 

"Harwin departs tomorrow to the Riverlands to suppress the rebellion," Otto said coldly, his gaze sharp as a blade. 

Larys offered a modest smile. "Harwin Strong—my brother's reputation precedes him." 

"Are you confident about this?" 

Ignoring Larys' false modesty, Otto asked directly. 

"No problem at all." 

Larys lowered his head, his eyes flickering. "With the skills my father and brother possess, they won't disappoint." 

"When it's done, the Grand Maester and I will recommend you as the new Master of Coin." 

Otto cast a sidelong glance, rising to leave. 

He had little affection for the second son of House Strong, who always gave him the impression of a venomous creature crawling out of some dark sewer. 

Leaning on his cane, Larys rested his chin on his hands, smiling as he watched Otto's retreating figure. 

*We're alike in that regard,* he thought. 

---

**Meanwhile.** 

Viserys had sent the Kingsguard to summon Rhaenyra. 

"Rhaenyra," he began, "there's been no news from the Stepstones. Return to Dragonstone and dispatch the Royal Fleet to patrol the Narrow Sea." 

The recent string of bad news had left Viserys physically and mentally exhausted. He wanted to bolster the defense of the Crownlands. 

Rhaenyra was momentarily taken aback. "Father, the fleet is already patrolling the Narrow Sea, and the fleet from Driftmark has contributed as well." 

"Seven hells! Look at my memory!" 

Viserys smacked his forehead and sighed. "How is Lord Corlys? I heard he's still bedridden." 

"Yes," Rhaenyra answered truthfully. "Aunt Rhaenys and Laenor are caring for him day and night." 

"If the Narrow Sea is covered, then we need more hands in King's Landing." 

Viserys muttered, then said, "Since Harwin is off to the Riverlands, Otto will temporarily manage the City Watch." 

"Otto?" 

Rhaenyra's heart sank. 

Harwin was her staunch supporter, always loyal to her commands. Having Otto temporarily in charge of the City Watch essentially diminished her influence. 

"Don't worry. Otto is Alicent's father. We're old friends," Viserys explained. "Besides, there are still 300 men in the Royal Guard." 

The Royal Guard was a newly formed unit, composed of former Red Keep guards and new members of the Dragon Guard established by Rhaegar. 

Rhaenyra pondered her own plans. "The front lines are still at war. How many more troops can be drawn from the Crownlands?" 

"Not many. All available forces have been given to Harwin." 

Mentioning the Riverlands made Viserys frown again. Waving his hand, he said, "You may go. When you have time, visit Lord Corlys on Driftmark." 

He paused, then emphasized, "And check on your two adopted daughters as well." 

After saying this, he felt a bit awkward. 

Those two girls were actually Daemon's daughters. 

Rhaenyra smiled and agreed. 

---

**At the same time.** 

The nine Free Cities of the Free Trade City-States had all received a letter from the Targaryen dynasty. 

Nine letters had fallen into the hands of the ruling powers of each city. 

**Tyrosh.** 

Representatives of the Triarchs Alliance were holding a meeting. 

They first discussed Dorne's refusal to provide naval support. 

Next, they debated the matter of poisoning—a clean and efficient solution, though still under consideration. 

An elderly man in silk robes remarked, "Today we threatened that Targaryen brat with a false deadline. This could prepare us for a surprise attack." 

"The 3,000 Unsullied we purchased are ready and waiting at the port." 

Lysandro Royce toyed with a whip, similar to the ones wielded by several other representatives present. 

As the discussion continued, a servant hurried in, handing a letter to the elder in silk robes. 

After the servant left, two more arrived, delivering identical letters to Lysandro Royce and the representative from Myr. 

The three men opened their letters and read them casually. 

Their expressions quickly changed, twisting into shock and fury. 

"Arrogant fool! Does he want to spark a war between two continents?"

The elder in the brocade robe flew into a rage, crumpling the letter into a ball and throwing it away. 

Lysandro sat in his chair, his expression heavy with concern. 

The letter read: 

**"The Tri-City Alliance has invaded the Stepstones, pillaging the citizens of the Seven Kingdoms, poisoning and conspiring against the Iron Throne's heir..."** 

**"Viserys I's eldest son, heir to the Iron Throne, Rhaegar Targaryen, hereby declares..."** 

**"If the Tri-City Alliance does not withdraw from the Stepstones within seven days, war will reach Tyrosh..."** 

The last line of the letter was written in bold, striking ink: 

**"Some dare to awaken the wrath of the sleeping dragon—House Targaryen shall respond with fire and blood!"** 

The letter ended there. 

The elder in the brocade robe was both shocked and enraged. **"That Targaryen brat dares to invade Tyrosh? Where did he get such audacity?!"** 

### Within the Tri-City Alliance 

Myr was a coastal city, its city-state sitting by the sea. 

Tyrosh and Lys, on the other hand, were island nations separated from the mainland by the ocean. 

Lys was near Volantis, situated in the Summer Sea. 

Tyrosh, on the edge of the Disputed Lands, was the closest to the Stepstones. 

Given the wording of the war declaration, an invasion of Tyrosh seemed highly likely. 

Lysandro furrowed his brows and rubbed his temples in frustration. **"The letter must have already spread across the Free Cities. We need to act quickly and secure allies."** 

**"Who would help us?!"** 

The elder in the brocade robe exclaimed, visibly agitated. **"Braavos is at odds with us and still at war with Pentos."** 

**"Volantis is an invader itself. They would love nothing more than to see us destroyed by the dragonspawn."** 

**"Qohor and Norvos are inland cities, constantly fending off Dothraki incursions."** 

**"Lorath is too far, poor, and weak. They don't even have a proper army."** 

The reason the Three Daughters had grown bold enough to invade the Stepstones and plunder ships worldwide was simple—they had become the most powerful economic force in Essos. 

If they fell, others would cheer rather than lend a hand. 

Lysandro's face darkened at the elder's retort. He replied coldly, **"Dorne refuses to send naval forces. Without support from other Free Cities, we have no allies."** 

The Myrish representative, a dark-skinned, overweight man, spoke up. **"Gentlemen, the return of the dragons to Essos isn't just our problem. Braavos and the others will think long and hard about this."** 

The Freehold of Old Valyria had only fallen three centuries ago. 

The people of Essos still carried the deep-rooted fear of dragons. 

With the right persuasion—both logical and emotional—perhaps they could secure assistance. 

**"Don't get your hopes up,"** Lysandro mused. **"This declaration of war may just be the impulsive decision of a young prince. The king on the Iron Throne is known for his weakness—we could send a letter urging him to intervene."** 

The Stepstones were a contested region. 

They belonged neither to Westeros nor Essos. 

A war fought there was one thing. 

But if dragons descended upon the Free Cities, that would be an entirely different matter. 

**"Good idea. This is serious—I'll draft the letter at once."** 

The dark-skinned man immediately agreed, grabbing a whip and hurrying out of the meeting chamber. 

The elder in the brocade robe appeared furious, but deep down, he was anxious. 

With a hardened tone, he said, **"Just in case, the Unsullied must be stationed in Tyrosh. Every port and tower must be equipped with scorpion ballistae."** 

Lysandro hesitated for a moment. 

But on second thought, Tyrosh would be the first to bear the brunt of any attack. 

So he did not object. 

--- 

### Tidemark Isle 

Under the pitch-black night sky, a colossal figure tore through the clouds, revealing the crescent moon it had obscured. 

In the moonlight— 

The great dragon Feaster was black as coal, its eerie green slit-pupiled eyes surveying the island below. 

On a familiar clearing— 

The emerald-scaled Vhagar lay sprawled on the ground, eyes closed in feigned sleep. 

Turning in another direction— 

A vast stretch of rocky land near the shore sheltered a curled-up crimson dragon. 

Rhaegar glanced at it, recognizing it as Caraxes. 

After the recent clash of dragons, Caraxes had suffered grievous wounds. 

His body was covered in scars, and one of his wings had been torn. 

Before his wings could recover, Kracxu was unable to fly. 

It seemed as though he sensed Rega's gaze. 

Dragging one of his injured wings, Kracxu slithered deeper into the heart of the Gobi, twisting his slender body as he went. 

The once-mighty blood worm had now become nothing more than a crawling insect. 

"Glutton, descend." 

Rega paid no further attention to Kracxu, directing Glutton to fly toward High Tide City. 

Upon landing, he made his way into the castle. 

Rhaenys and Laena greeted him personally. 

After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Rega got straight to the point. 

He spoke of the Triarchy's declaration of war and his decision to launch an attack on Tyrosh. 

"I'll go fetch the child." 

Laena's smile faded as she made an excuse to leave. 

Her position was unique—both a daughter of House Velaryon and the wife of Daemon. 

She had no desire to be embroiled in yet another war. 

Rega furrowed his brow slightly, surprised that Laena had openly distanced herself from the matter. 

"Ignore her. State your purpose," Rhaenys said with a grim expression. 

Rega was forthright: "The key to attacking Tyrosh is dragons. I want all three Velaryon dragons to join the fight." 

"Absolutely not!" 

Rhaenys flatly refused, her tone heavy. "The Targaryen name is a sensitive one. We cannot appear in Essos as invaders." 

They were a family of dragonlords. 

Over three hundred years ago, Old Valyria had conquered most of the Essos continent. 

If dragons invaded the Triarchy, it could trigger a backlash from the entire Free Cities. 

Having anticipated her rejection, Rega patiently explained: "The Triarchy has already bet everything on this war. If we strike just one city, they will collapse without resistance." 

He had carefully studied the situation in the Free Cities. 

Volantis had enmity with the Triarchy. 

The other cities were either in turmoil or struggling to protect themselves. 

The Triarchy had no allies to call upon. 

"Rega, your strategic insight is impressive—I won't deny that," Rhaenys admitted firmly. "But I won't help you, and your father won't approve of your plan either." 

She knew her cousin Viserys all too well. 

The Stepstones War had already drained him of all courage and patience. 

To risk provoking the entire Free Cities by attacking the Triarchy? That was sheer madness. 

Rega pressed on: "The Triarchy is House Velaryon's great enemy. I am willing to bear the risks—can that not be enough?" 

Rhaenys shook her head. "You don't just represent yourself; you represent all Seven Kingdoms. As Princess of House Targaryen, I oppose your reckless venture." 

Sighing, she added, "I still need to care for Corlys, and Laena has a child to nurse. Do as you please." 

"Aunt, this war cannot be avoided!" 

Rega's eyes flickered with determination as he turned and left. 

He would return to King's Landing to secure his father's approval. 

At the same time, he would gather soldiers and weapons. 

... 

After he left, Rhaenys found Laena nursing her child. 

"You should agree to help him. That would be the way to ransom Daemon," Rhaenys said, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe. 

"The king still remembers past ties. I see no need to complicate matters," Laena replied, shaking her head, a glint of shrewdness flashing in her eyes. 

(End of Chapter)