hotmtlnovel Chapter 452: A Sacrificial Altar? No, It’s a Blood Sacrifice to a Dragon Mountain
Chapter 452: A Sacrificial Altar? No, It’s a Blood Sacrifice to a Dragon Mountain
Chapter 452: A Sacrificial Altar? No, It’s a Blood Sacrifice to a Dragon Mountain
After this day, a shadow fell over Dorne, casting a pall across the Red Mountains and Boneway.
"Run! Get into the tunnel!"
"Wait for me..."
Hundreds of Dornish soldiers, armed with bows and arrows, cried out in distress as they fled in panic along the steep cliffs.
Roar...
A scarlet dragon shadow flew past, accompanied by a commanding female voice: "Dracarys!"
Meleys, swift as lightning, unleashed her Dragonfire.
At that moment, a younger voice echoed: "Dracarys!"
"Roar..."
A light blue dragon swooped down, and the orange and blue Dragonfire cascaded like a waterfall.
Helaena's eyes were serious and determined as she performed her task with precision. The Dorne soldiers, unable to reach the tunnel in time, were incinerated in moments.
Rhaenys, exultant, shouted, "To Wyl! Burn their lair to the ground!"
Meleys roared, leaving a red afterimage as she sped away. Helaena, not to be outdone, flapped Dreamfyre's wings and followed close behind.
The two, steadfast and relentless, pressed on with unwavering resolve.
...
The Broken Arm, Ghost Hill
The low, sandy brick castle and the sprawling, disordered town stretching for miles marked the fiefdom of House Toland.
Suddenly, a deafening roar pierced the air.
"Dracarys!" Daemon, clad in black steel armor and wearing a defiant expression, looked down at the city below.
Caraxes's pupils gleamed with cruelty as the serpent-like dragon descended upon the town, spewing Dragonfire from its maw.
"No! Run!"
"The dragon is coming..."
The civilians of Ghost Hill screamed in terror, fleeing the town in a desperate attempt to escape the fiery destruction.Finndd the newest novels on
"Haha," Daemon laughed from atop Caraxes, directing the dragon with ease. Having mastered the binding spell, he no longer needed to shout to control the dragon, their bond now seamless.
Caraxes slowly crawled, its scarlet wings like two bloodthirsty scythes, harvesting lives with every passing moment. Dragons are merciless, and Daemon even more so.
Half a month ago, after a new prince was elected at Sunspear, it was declared that Dorne would be brought under the rule of the Iron Throne. Rhaegar issued a decree: those who willingly submitted would be relocated to Skyreach, Yronwood, and Sunspear. The Iron Throne would provide food and living space, concentrating the population to strengthen management.
And the rebels? Every inch of Dorne that the dragon flew over would be burned to the ground, leaving no castles or villages.
"Roar..." Caraxes slithered across the ground, its massive form dominating the landscape.
Aemond, his left eye now healed and covered with an eye patch, shouted, "Dracarys, ugly beast!"
Sheepstealer swooped down with a sideways glance, spreading brown dragonfire across the city like a stain.
In a matter of moments, half of Ghost Hill was engulfed in smoke. Aemond, adjusting his eye patch - a black cloth held in place by two straps, one of which his sister had embroidered with a peaceful blue flower - looked down at the scene.
"Roar..." Sheepstealer performed a somersault, gliding close to the ground. Its claws snatched a Dorne soldier, tossing him into the air before biting him in half. Blood and flesh splattered Aemond's face.
Unfazed, Aemond wiped his face slowly, maintaining his composure. "Dracarys," he commanded calmly.
He was now a mature Targaryen, not one to be easily disturbed.
"Roar..." Sheepstealer, seemingly surprised by Aemond's newfound maturity, continued its charge.
The Cannibal alone had burned three castles and destroyed countless fields. Rhaegar just smiled, even feeling inclined to pat Aegon on the head.
He, Rhaenys, and Daemon had split into three groups, each accompanied by a younger sibling, to accelerate the Dragon's Wroth while minimizing accidents. Rebellion was spreading throughout Dorne, with countless supporters. However, no castle or village was left standing.
The Sea Snake controlled the Greenblood River and the sea routes of the lower half of the Narrow Sea, blocking overseas reinforcements such as those from Braavos. The Prince's Pass was completely sealed off and temporarily under the jurisdiction of The Reach. The Boneway was still troubled by House Wyl, but Rhaenys and Helaena were expected to handle them.
Once the blockade plan was fully implemented, Dorne would be cut off from the outside world. Dragon's Wroth destroyed everything, trapping the Dornish rebels completely.
Resist, and you will all die.
...
In the blink of an eye, a month had passed.
"Roar..."
"Roar..."
Six dragons danced and intertwined in the sky.
Below, the Scourge and Vaith rivers converged, and the semi-ruined city of Godsgrace lay desolate.
Amid the ruins, Lord Allyrion stood dazed, supported by two of his men, barely conscious.
He was the Lord of Godsgrace, now reduced to rubble.
Roar!
Caraxes swooped down, his blade-like tail slicing through the three men’s heads.
"Dracarys!" Daemon ordered nonchalantly.
Caraxes, brimming with energy, unleashed a torrent of Dragonfire, reducing the three corpses to ashes.
"Roar!"
"Roar..."
The other five dragons soared above, hunting down the Dornish men attempting to flee and pouring out their fury.
Rhaegar’s eyes were full of murderous intent as he set about destroying the farmland and docks along the river.
The Dragon’s Wroth was in full force. House Allyrion of Godsgrace was the first to surrender, bowing to the Iron Throne.
A few days prior, Lord Allyrion had secretly supported the Dornish rebels in the desert with food and maintained covert contact with Qyle Martell of Sunspear. This treachery did not go unnoticed. Tormund and Syrio, experts in intelligence, along with the Sea Snake, thoroughly investigated Allyrion's actions.
Just as Rhaegar and the others finished the first wave of Dragon’s Wroth and returned to Yronwood to regroup, House Allyrion in Godsgrace ran into the dragon’s fury. They became the first house in Westeros to endure the siege of six dragons.
In a twisted way, they made history, though it cost them their family.
After the ruins of Godsgrace were cleared, the bodies of Lord Allyrion and his Knights were collected and taken away.
Rhaegar drove the Cannibal to burn the Godsgrace into rock, while Daemon and the others rode their dragons back to Yronwood
Two months later, Yronwood had undergone a drastic transformation.
All civilians had been relocated, leaving behind an empty, desolate city. Broken walls and debris were left uncollected, with more rubble piling up. Stones were heaped into dense mountains.
When Rhaegar landed, Cole was directing soldiers to carry bodies into the city, piling them next to the stone heaps. There were many bodies, at least a thousand, hacked to death, burned to ashes, and everything in between.
Rhaenys frowned and asked, "Rhaegar, what do you want with the remains of these nobles and knights?"
She worried her nephew was dabbling in some evil blood magic. Daemon, Helaena, and the others also stared at Rhaegar, their eyes full of curiosity.
Rhaegar did not hide his intentions. "I want to build a Dragon Mountain. Dragon dung is too far away to transport, and these noble corpses are better."
The raw material for Dragonstone was typically the byproduct of dragons, even their dung. Without these, flesh and blood could serve as a substitute. Dorne was now part of Targaryen territory, so it was only fitting to leave a Targaryen symbol behind.
Nothing would be more meaningful than a Dragon Mountain, especially one infused with the flesh and blood of countless Dornish nobles who had rebelled against Targaryen rule.
He wanted to remind all of Dorne how the Targaryens conquered it, and what fate awaited rebels.