391 Chapter 391: Divine Weapon Descends
"Roar—"
The roar of a dragon echoed far across the sky, causing the king, nobles, and soldiers of the allied forces who were battling the wights on the ground to look up at the heavens.
They had never heard the roar of a dragon before. This sound had disappeared from the land of Westeros for a hundred years, and now it had reappeared.
"Robert."
"What is that sound?"
Eddard Stark, wielding his Valyrian steel sword Ice, shattered a wight in front of him. He was slightly out of breath, his body covered in blood, unsure if it was from the wights or the allied soldiers.
Standing next to the Duke of Winterfell, King Robert was also panting heavily, his breath forming a white mist.
Thud—
He then swung his warhammer, smashing the skull of a wight, and with a backhand swing, he hit another wight in the chest, sending it flying. His beard was stained with blood, and there were splatters of fresh blood on his cheeks.
He too heard the loud roar from above, exhaled a breath of white mist, then stopped fighting and looked up at the sky.
Unfortunately, the snowstorm on the banks of the Green Fork was raging, and the heavy snow was falling continuously.
The entire battlefield was blanketed in white, and visibility was not high. They couldn't see what was happening in the sky above.
"I don't know what that sound is."
Robert, panting heavily, his chubby face somewhat flushed, shook his head.
"It can't get any worse..."
He was about to say that things couldn't get any worse, but at that moment, the roar of the dragon overhead sounded again, shaking their souls. This time it was closer, as if it was right above the battlefield.
This time, everyone on the battlefield, including Robert and Eddard, saw what it was.
Whoosh~
The cold winter wind howled, a huge figure, barely visible, was swiftly moving through the raging snowstorm. It spread its massive wings, tearing through the white world, its enormous body blocking out the sun and forcing its way in.
"Roar—"
The dragon's roar was low, suppressed, piercing through the thick clouds and snow, reaching far into the distance. Its pair of crimson eyes looked down upon the dense army of wights on the ground.
And sitting on the back of the dragon was a young dragon rider, clad in silver Valyrian steel armor, with a crimson longsword at his waist.
He wasn't wearing a helmet, but had it hanging on the side, his silver-gold hair fluttering in the wind, revealing a clean and handsome face.
This young knight was none other than Viserys Targaryen, the 'Young Dragon Lord' who had come all the way from Pentos.
"We're a bit late."
He looked down at the battlefield below.
The expeditionary force to the Seven Kingdoms was divided into two routes. Viserys personally led over twenty thousand Dothraki screamers, according to the original plan, prepared to land at White Harbor, to assist the allied forces stationed at the Bay of Seals, and jointly strike the White Walkers.
The other force, consisting of over ten thousand mercenaries from the Golden Company, was led by another 'Dragon King' of the Targaryen family, the eldest princess of the new dynasty, Rhaenys Targaryen.
However, the plan was good, the first batch of Targaryen forces, including logistics and laborers, totaled forty thousand people leaving Pentos. Countless warships filled the sea, moving towards Westeros in a grand manner.
But the battle plan had changed before it was executed. Viserys did not expect the allied forces to lose at the Bay of Seals so quickly. The Neck, as a huge natural barrier separating the north and south of Westeros, was easy to defend and hard to attack. The rapid defeat of the allied forces had disrupted Viserys's plan.
He received the news almost a month later because he was drifting at sea. His force of more than twenty thousand Dothraki successfully landed at White Harbor, but the place was already a ruin.
But the few wights left in White Harbor naturally couldn't stop the twenty thousand brave and skilled nomadic cavalry. They were humiliated and toyed with, and were torn apart.
Some wights were even captured alive. The Dothraki were natural horsemen, riding on horseback with exquisite riding skills, making the wights dizzy.
Then they used their lasso skills to accurately throw the rope around the necks of the wights, capturing a batch of live wights.
These wights were arranged by Viserys to be put in wooden cages and dragged onto the warships.
Viserys planned to send them back to Pentos, asking Maester Marwyn to study them, to see if they could find any other undiscovered weaknesses of the wights.
Or to give the soldiers of the army who had not yet sailed to Westeros a psychological expectation, these were the enemies they would face in the future.
But these wights were not zombies infected with some T-virus. The reason other humans turned into wights after being bitten to death was because of the magic of the White Walkers, so Viserys was not worried that bringing these wights to Pentos would cause any trouble.
"We can open a zoo in the city of Pentos and exhibit these wights to the public."
"Charge an admission fee."
After the twenty thousand Dothraki landed at White Harbor, they set up camp in this deserted bustling city. White Harbor was basically not severely damaged and was directly taken over by the Targaryen army.
After all the affairs were arranged after landing in Westeros, Viserys left the army and rode his dragon alone to the main battlefield south of the Neck, where the allied forces and the White Walkers were fighting.
He arrived just in time for the decisive battle at hand.
Whoosh~
The howling wind was blowing in Viserys's ears, his silver-gold hair fluttering in the wind.
His hands tightly gripped the saddle, his violet eyes slightly squinted to prevent the snow from blowing into his eyes. Viserys looked at the chaotic battlefield below.
"The situation is a bit bad."
The situation on the battlefield was very clear. The allied forces were in a desperate situation. Defeat or even total annihilation was just a matter of time.
"They can't all die yet."
So Viserys didn't hesitate much, controlling Balerion to dive down.
"Roar—"
The desolate roar of the dragon came from high above, the huge dragon figure spread its wings, quickly diving towards the ground, then a sea of red fire descended from the sky.
"Dragon flame—"
Viserys sat on the dragon's back, his face tense, and spoke in High Valyrian with a low voice.
Boom—
The next second.
A dazzling pillar of fire roared down from the sky, directly engulfing the running wights on the ground.
Rumble—
Balerion flapped its wings and flew forward, the dragon flame it spewed hit the ground, unstoppable, continuously moving forward.
It was like cutting a piece of cake, a long trench was plowed in the dense tide of wights.
Countless wights roared in the surging dragon flame, then fell.
The pressure on the allied soldiers was greatly reduced in an instant.
