Chapter 533: The Battle of the Lame - Battle for Cripple's Keep

Count Tyrus of Casterly Star was caught in a dilemma, wavering between surrender and rebellion. In a sudden assault, he successfully captured one of the city gates, holding firm until reinforcements from the Riverlands arrived.

The Dornish forces, caught off guard, rallied fiercely. Battles erupted both inside and outside Casterly Star, with war cries echoing throughout.

"Kill them!"

Blood-soaked, Tyrus of Casterly Star wielded his longsword, slashing left and right, repelling wave after wave of the Dornish onslaught. Only then did he find a moment to catch his breath.

The thunderous hooves of Riverlands knights filled the city, significantly easing the pressure on Tyrus.

The night was at its darkest, yet Casterly Star was ablaze. Flames, ignited by an unknown party, roared skyward.

Count Tyrus, witnessing his homeland consumed by fire, was filled with mixed emotions.

He briefly regretted siding with the Riverlands. But soon, he steeled himself, clutching his fist.

"No."

"I have no regrets."

He was always a noble of the Riverlands. He had merely been misled by traitors and had betrayed his homeland and sworn liege.

Now, Tyrus believed he was on the right path.

"Margaery."

The thought of his wife, still in the enemy's grasp, pierced his heart. He owed her an apology.

"Follow me, all of you!"

Surveying the chaotic battlefield below the city walls, Tyrus, with sword in hand, beckoned the soldiers of Casterly Star to his side.

No one knew the city's layout better than he did. He intended to lead a rescue mission for his wife and personally slay the fiends who had dishonored her.

Elsewhere, the fierce battle in Casterly Star raged on.

The stored wildfire in the city was ignited, its bright flames painting the sky red.

"Hold the line!"

"Hold!"

"Don't panic!"

Sir Roger Allyrion of Sunspear, swinging his sword, struck down several deserters, attempting to control the ensuing chaos.

The Dornish, although fiercely resisting, were disorganized. Soldiers were separated from their commanders, and leaders couldn't locate their troops.

"Follow my command!"

However, his shouts reached only a few Dornish soldiers close to him.

Suddenly, Sir Roger Allyrion grabbed a passing Dornish noble – the younger brother of Lemonwood's knight, Ser Danyel Dalt, named Andre Dalt.

The young Dornish warrior, breathless and visibly shaken, was experiencing his first taste of battle. War was entirely different from individual combat.

"Are you Andre Dalt?"

Recognizing the young Lemonwood knight's crest, Sir Roger Allyrion shouted orders.

"Go!"

"Tell your brother to gather his forces and regroup with me!"

"Now!"

With that, he gave the young knight a shove.

"Yes, sir!"

Andre Dalt, reinvigorated by the command, raced to find his brother, Ser Danyel Dalt.

"Regroup with me!"

"Take that tower! Quickly!"

...

The battle within Casterly Star was intense. After the initial panic, the Dornish forces began to regroup and stabilize under effective leadership.

Leading the Dornish forces, Count Anders Yronwood, seated in his wheelchair, took a vantage point within Casterly Star to command the battle.

His guards fended off several Riverlands soldiers, killing them and casting their bodies off the walls.

On the other side, the Riverlands' de facto leader, the crippled heir to Highgarden, Willas Tyrell, despite his injuries, rode his steed to the frontlines.

"Help me dismount."

Assisted by his soldiers, Willas, with a cane in hand, ascended the city walls, taking direct command.

Several arrows whizzed past, yet Willas remained unfazed, standing alongside his soldiers.

The battle raged throughout the night, primarily due to the fierce resistance of the Dornish. Only at dawn did the situation become clear.

Despite their tenacity, the Dornish forces found their numbers dwindling and their control of the city shrinking.

Both sides clashed repeatedly, leaving layers of corpses in their wake. Eventually, the Dornish were cornered within the central keep, while the Riverlands forces dominated the rest.

Count Anders Yronwood, along with many other Dornish nobles, was besieged in the main fort, with the situation growing dire.

"The war is over!"

"Father!"

Sir Roger Allyrion, covered in blood and gasping for breath, entered the room to address his father-in-law.

"Reconsider!"

"For the sake of more brothers living!"

Count Anders Yronwood, seated in his wheelchair, remained silent, his breathing heavy.

Elsewhere.

"The war has ended."

Willas Tyrell, leaning on his cane, surveyed the battlefield, finally allowing himself a sigh of relief.

His eyes, red from exhaustion, reflected the night's sleepless command.

"We've done our duty, father."

Willas then turned to his father, Mace Tyrell, and his brothers, gallant Garlan Tyrell and young Loras Tyrell.

Loras, originally meant to be Renly's squire at Storm's End, had been fortunate to remain in Highgarden due to the war.

Mace Tyrell, looking at his talented eldest son, smiled with pride.

A true gem, if only Willas hadn't broken his leg.

Suddenly, a distant rumbling echoed, resembling the stampede of countless horses or a sudden thunderstorm.

"Hmm?"

"What's that sound?"

Garlan Tyrell was the first to react, trying to identify the source of the noise by scanning the cloudless sky.

Willas Tyrell, also hearing the sound, looked up, his expression shifting to one of alarm.