Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day

Chapter 444: The Fall of Qoren (2)

Chapter 444: The Fall of Qoren (2)

"Brother~"

Helaena called softly, trying to pull Rhaegar out of his negative state. Unlike her brother, who was consumed by rage, she still retained her full sense of reason. Maybe it was because she was emotionally detached, or maybe she only cared about the people she wanted to care for. She didn't want to disturb her own mind.

"Rhaenys..." Rhaegar murmured, his handsome face illuminated by the firelight, his expression twisted in the shadows.

Meraxes' dragon scales. A Targaryen woman's armor found in Hellholt. Which Targaryen warrior woman would have been at Hellholt and left behind her broken armor? The signs were almost explicit.

Rhaegar stood up abruptly, his eyes flashing with cold, restrained rage: "House Uller, that damned name!"

"Brother, calm down," Helaena stepped forward, gently persuading him.

"Stand back!" Rhaegar turned around and shouted, his anger reaching the heavens.

Helaena was startled and obediently stepped back, giving him space to vent his fury.

"Uller! You insolent bastards!" Rhaegar was so furious that he unsheathed Truefyre from his waist and swung it, slashing at the two pieces of armor.

At that moment, he didn't care about the relics. He wanted to cut everything in front of him to pieces, burn it to ashes, and vent his anger.

During the first war in Dorne, Queen Rhaenys led Meraxes to attack Hellholt. The scorpion crossbow on the castle wall accidentally hit the dragon's eye. Meraxes fell to the ground in agony and died on the spot. This was the first and only time the people of Dorne killed a dragon.

But Queen Rhaenys, who was on Meraxes' back, disappeared without a trace, and no one saw her remains. Not even a charred corpse, just a pool of what looked like meat paste. Some claimed that Queen Rhaenys did not die but was seriously injured in the fall and tortured in the dungeons of Hellholt. This theory had never been proven, and no one believed it. After all, Meraxes was killed by the fall, and it seemed unlikely that Rhaenys, the dragon's rider, would have survived.

The year was 13 AC. Princess Meria of Dorne, nicknamed "the Yellow Toadof Dorne," died. Her heir, Prince Nymor Martell, tired of war, sent his daughter, Princess Deria Martell, on a mission to King's Landing to negotiate peace. During the negotiations, she brought the skull of Meraxes as a gift to the king.

After some unpleasant negotiations, the peace talks were nearing an end. The Iron Throne's subjects cried out, "No peace without surrender," while Dorne insisted on being on equal footing with the Iron Throne. Conqueror Aegon was equally angry and dismissed Deria Martell's proposal. However, a letter changed his mind.

The conqueror opened the envelope in public and read the letter silently. After reading it, the usually calm conqueror showed signs of confusion and lost his composure. No one knew what the letter said. The people there talked about it.

After reading the letter, the conqueror clenched his hand around the envelope, his fingernails piercing his palm and drawing blood.

In the end, the Conqueror agreed to Dorne's terms of peace.

That night, the Conqueror was seen riding Balerion back to Dragonstone, returning before dawn. No one knew what he did on Dragonstone that night.

Two main rumors spread throughout King's Landing in the face of this sudden turn of events:

One: It was a threat. If the peace treaty was not signed, Dorne would hire the Faceless Men to assassinate the Conqueror's heir, and he would be forced to agree.

Two: Queen Rhaenys was not dead, but imprisoned and suffering in Hellhold. If the terms of the peace treaty were agreed upon, Dorne would end her suffering and return her remains.

Rumors are rumors, and no one can prove them.

Now, looking at the scales of Meraxes and the remnants of Rhaenys' armor, Rhaegar felt the weight of history's shameful compromise.

Queen Rhaenys was not dead! Her armor is still in Hellholt, where House Uller has imprisoned her.

Bang! Rhaegar swung his sword wildly, cursing non-stop. The silver-white scales of the armor were chopped to pieces, and the female armor was split into grooves. He stared at the two pieces of armor, his heart filled with indescribable anger.

For over a hundred years, House Uller kept Queen Rhaenys' armor, even using Meraxes' scales to make it. They hid it, afraid to let it out, and now it was thrown away like trash in a stinking dungeon torture room.

Rhaegar saw it all as a vulgar, despicable, and ugly provocation that left no room for compromise!

"House Uller!" Rhaegar's face contorted in a hideous grimace, his chest heaving as he shouted, "I will kill you all! I will break the neck of the last Uller and wipe that name from the face of the earth!"

He was a Targaryen and heir to the Iron Throne. But more than these two identities, he also had the blood of Queen Rhaenys flowing through his veins. Rhaenys was his great-great-great-grandmother! Every Targaryen alive today is a descendant of hers and the Conqueror.

After venting his anger until his body stopped trembling with anger, Rhaegar rested his hands on Truefyre and gasped for breath. In the dark corner, the two pieces of armor, already in a bad state, were in a terrible state.

Rhaegar's eyes went blank, and he muttered, "Mercy doesn't work on everyone. Then wait for the wrath of the sleeping dragon."

Even in the face of the Sealord of Braavos' ugly face and the sinister intentions of the Triarchy to detain Morghul, he remained rational. But House Uller's casual discarding of the two pieces of armor deeply irritated Rhaegar's nerves.

After venting his anger until his body stopped trembling with anger, Rhaegar rested his hands on Truefyre and gasped for breath. In the dark corner, the two pieces of armor, already in a bad state, were in a terrible state.

Rhaegar's eyes went blank, and he muttered, "Mercy doesn't work on everyone. Then wait for the wrath of the sleeping dragon."

Even in the face of the Sealord of Braavos' ugly face and the sinister intentions of the Triarchy to detain Morghul, he remained rational. But House Uller's casual discarding of the two pieces of armor deeply irritated Rhaegar's nerves.

Rhaegar's anger burned in his heart, and he felt his mouth go dry. Suddenly, a warm embrace came from behind, and the lotus-like arms under the white gauze firmly locked his waist.

Rhaegar was momentarily dazed.

The firm softness pressed against his back, and a gentle voice calmly persuaded him, "Don't let anger cloud your mind. You are the true dragon; they are the reptiles."

"Helaena," Rhaegar whispered, relaxing his tense body. The voice behind him was young and innocent, with a hint of worry and hoarseness, like a lotus flower in the mud.

Rhaegar sniffed, detecting a refreshing fragrance. "What are you smelling?"

Helaena blinked, reaching into her brother's black robe, and whispered, "I've changed my perfume. It covers the dragon smell."

Rhaegar: ...

Her interruption was perfectly timed. The little girl was still holding a grudge, patiently waiting for her chance to get her revenge.

"Don't be angry. The more anger you show, the more Uller will enjoy it," Helaena gently comforted him.

Rhaegar turned around to look at the familiar, pretty face. Her eyes were clear, and her face was lovely. If those little hands hadn't sneaked into his clothes, poking and pinching, he would have thought that the Mother Above of the Seven Gods had appeared.

"Get your hands out of there," Rhaegar said, flabbergasted.

"Oh~" Helaena looked innocent, taking advantage of the chaos to scratch her lower abdomen before withdrawing her small, white hands.

Rhaegar rolled his eyes and picked up the scattered female armor and silver-white dragon scales. When his palm touched a dragon scale, the system panel appeared.

[Scales of Meraxes]

Exploration Progress: 0.8% (Ongoing)

Rhaegar put away the armor and dragon scales, keeping only one in his hand to maintain the exploration progress. He muttered to himself, "I hope to discover an offensive relic so I can use it to kill the Ullers with my own hands."

In his eyes, the surname Uller was now on the list of The Stranger.

Rhaegar looked at the thoughtful Helaena and sighed, "Come with me. Help Ormund take care of Hellholt, and we'll leave."

"Sunspear?" Helaena asked in doubt.

"Yes," Rhaegar said, his eyes flashing. "If we can't find Uller, we'll burn Sunspear to the ground."

Someone had to pay the price with blood and fire.

"Let's go."

"Okay."

...

Sunspear, the Old Palace.

The palace is magnificent, with its Spear Tower, Sun Tower, and many other luxurious halls.

The Prince's study.

Qoren sat slumped over his desk, his expression unusually solemn as he constantly flipped through books detailing the First War of Dorne.

The latest news was dire.

Skyreach had fallen, and the armies of The Reach had entered the heart of Dorne.

Wyl and Yronwood in the Boneway were abandoned, with the two lords leading their soldiers into hiding to prepare for an ambush.

Lord Uller of Hellholt disobeyed orders and, without waiting for the combined forces of Blackmont and Starfall, headed into the desert toward Yronwood.

Unable to support him, the Blackmont and Starfall fleets changed course in The Summer Sea, attempting to break through the defenses of The Arbor and raid The Reach from Oldtown.

The war had officially begun, and all of Dorne was in chaos.

Qoren's plans were thwarted one after another, and the vassals abandoned their rescue of Sunspear, each with their own agendas.

Yes, the capital of Sunspear was forgotten by the Dorne nobles.

The centuries-old hatred had erupted, and the Dorne nobles didn't care about the consequences. They just wanted to fight the Iron Throne to the death.

They hoped that the lords would join them and recreate the glory of Dorne's resistance against the Iron Throne's invasion.

"Bastards, a bunch of brainless idiots," Qoren muttered, his face alternating between white and red as he cursed them.

The truth of what the Conqueror and Dorne had discussed was unknown, but as a Prince, he had some understanding.

Times had changed.

The Targaryens were at the height of their power, with six dragons alone on the battlefield.

The King rode the Bronze Fury, and the Prince rode the Deathwing, both of which were as powerful as the adult dragons of old.

Dorne would be better off with the help of Braavos and other forces beyond the Narrow Sea.

Now that Braavos was sitting idly by, what could Dorne do on its own?

Qoren felt a lump in his chest and couldn't help but think of the Triarchy, which had been the first to declare war.

He and the Sealord of Braavos shared the same attitude: to use the Triarchy to undermine the Iron Throne and then take advantage of the situation.

Unfortunately, the Targaryens had too many dragons, and they were sitting in the three Free Cities, giving him no chance.

When Dragonfire reached Dorne, he finally understood the powerlessness of the Triarchy.

He regretted not supporting them wholeheartedly.

Qoren slammed the book shut and sneered, "Braavos is sitting on its hands. If Dorne really falls, can you stop the dragons?"

He threw the book aside and called out to Davos Dayne, who was outside the study.

Crack!

The door opened from the outside, and Davos entered with his giant sword, Dawn.

"What is your command, my prince?"

"Inform the army in Sunspear to abandon all defenses and leave the city after dark."

Davos paused for a moment, then said solemnly, "We should follow our experience and sneak into the desert for a protracted battle."

This strategy appealed to the radicals but was little more than a desperate attempt.

For the conservatives, it was undoubtedly a preparation for a return to the Iron Throne once peace was restored.

Qoren jumped off the table with agility, his eyebrows and eyes bursting with defiance, and said solemnly, "Whatever, the army will depart by detour. Let's go to Yronwood."

"What about the Princess and the others?" Davos asked.

The prince had three children. In addition to his eldest daughter, Princess Aliandra, he also had a son and a younger daughter.

Qoren looked deep in thought and gritted his teeth: "Aliandra will travel with the army, Qyle will be sent to Braavos, and Coryanne will be sent to Volantis."

The eldest daughter was the heir and must stay in Dorne to rule. This was her mission.

The son and younger daughter would be sent to the Narrow Sea to preserve the Martell bloodline.

"Yes, Prince," Davos nodded and left quickly.

He was in a hurry.

Because he realized that the situation in Dorne was dire and that the Prince was going to make a desperate attempt.