Chapter 208: New Title “Young Dragonlord”

Boom...

A torrent of dragonfire bombarded the Triarchy's warships, creating pillars of flame and thunderous explosions.

"Cannibal, attack that ship first!" Rhaegar commanded, his eyes cold and focused on the warship where the Triarchy commander stood. This warship had been the first to ram a cargo ship, and its pirates were now battling Cole and his men.

"Roar..."

Cannibal flapped its wings and flew towards the warship. The Triarchy commander, noticing the dragon's approach, shouted in terror, "No! Abandon ship!"

The dragon's power was no joke. A single breath of dragonfire could spell doom for everyone aboard.

Boom!

Cannibal glided over, spraying green dragonfire onto the warship, instantly igniting the mast and armor. The Triarchy commander barely had time to scream before he was engulfed in the flames, reduced to a charred corpse.

Below, Cole was locked in a fierce battle, his morningstar crushing pirate after pirate. Blood splattered over his head and face, but he fought on, driven by the need to atone for his sins. He had commanded the dozen cargo ships that served as bait, luring the Triarchy pirates into this trap.

Above, four dragons circled the pirate fleet, raining destruction on the ships.

"Hahaha, burn them all!" Aegon laughed wildly, amused by the carnage as he rode Sunfyre.

Having been idled in King's Landing and Grey Gallows Island, this first battle felt like a triumphant release for him.

"Aegon, maintain altitude and finish them quickly!" Rhaenys, flying on Meleys, admonished sternly.

After incinerating over ten ships, the pirates finally retaliated with scorpion crossbows. Steel-tipped bolts were launched skyward, targeting the dragons.

But their efforts were futile. One dragon might be vulnerable to a barrage of crossbow bolts, but four dragons were an insurmountable force. The scorpion crossbows were reloaded too slowly to match the dragons' onslaught, and the fleet was soon engulfed in flames.

Within minutes, the battle was over. The one-sided assault had obliterated thousands of pirates. Rhaegar, looking as composed as ever, shouted, "Quickly now, head to Bloodstone Island for support!"

"No problem!" Rhaenys responded, driving Meleys forward.

Aegon glanced at his brother, urging Sunfyre to unleash more dragonfire with greater speed. Laenor, equally agitated, rode Seasmoke alongside Sunfyre.

Rhaegar focused on methodically burning each pirate ship. A few days earlier, he had released the pirate ship with a plan in mind. By reorganizing the army and creating the illusion of an attack on Bloodstone Island, he had deliberately leaked information about the cargo ship carrying supplies, baiting the enemy into intercepting it. The Triarchy, encouraged by recent victories, had taken the bait.

Cole and his cargo ships had acted as bait, drawing in the bulk of the Triarchy's fleet. Rhaegar, Rhaenys, and the others had waited in ambush, their dragons ready to wreak havoc.

This was only the halfway point of their plan.

...

Bloodstone Island.

A fleet of over twenty ships approached, bearing flags adorned with three red dragons, seahorses, and purple grapes on a blue background.

"Attack!" Vaemond shouted as he donned his armor and gripped his scimitar.

The warships quickly reached the waters surrounding Bloodstone Island. As they stopped, small boats were lowered into the water, allowing soldiers to disembark and row to shore.

Bloodstone Island's fortifications had been rebuilt, but the patrolling pirates were surprised by the sudden attack and sounded their horns.

Thunk!

An arrow pierced the throat of one of the patrol pirates, silencing him. From a few hundred meters away, Robb of the Riverlands, known as "Red Robb," retrieved his longbow and urged his brothers of the Second Sons to row faster.

During the Battle of the Riverlands, Robb had made a name for himself as the best archer in the region.

Moments later, dozens of small boats reached the shore. Robb led the charge, followed closely by the 800 Dragonkeepers.

"Kill!" Robb yelled as they stormed the beach, with soldiers from The Arbor and Claw Isle right behind them. Many of these soldiers bore the blood of recent battles on their armor, having fought off a small band of pirates before reaching Bloodstone Island.

The smaller pirate force was no match for the advancing army and was quickly overwhelmed.

"Charge! Reclaim Bloodstone Island!" Spike Redwyne bellowed, slashing through the lightly defended pirates with his sword.

The main force of Bloodstone Island had been dispatched to Cape Wrath to intercept the supposed supply ships. Meanwhile, half of the remaining troops had attacked Grey Gallows Island, only to be slaughtered by the king's army. Consequently, the island's defenses were at their weakest.

Hundreds of pirates emerged from their caves, ready to fight to the death, but they faced thousands of well-equipped soldiers from the king's forces. The disparity in numbers was insurmountable.

Within half an hour, the beach was littered with the bodies of pirates who had fallen without much delay.

Under the officers' command, the soldiers reorganized the battlefield and began to rebuild the fortifications.

Vaemond, dragging a injured arm, climbed to the watchtower and replanted the three-headed red dragon flag, signifying the recapture of Bloodstone Island.

"Roar..."

A deep dragon roar echoed through the sky as the Cannibal's pitch-black silhouette emerged above. Rhaegar cast a glance over the battlefield below, confident that Bloodstone Island had been secured.

Robb, carrying his longbow, shouted up to the sky, "Prince, the plan is going well!"

The Cannibal descended slowly, and Rhaegar slid down the dragon's back.

"How are the casualties? Do we have enough supplies on Bloodstone Island?" Rhaegar asked, his expression steady, focusing on the critical points.

He was the orchestrator of this operation. From devising the strategy and spreading false information to rallying the people and commanding the dragons, he had led every step. The main force of the Triarchy had been incinerated at Cape Wrath, leaving Bloodstone Island's defenses vulnerable.

Vaemond and his forces had led a full-scale assault, reclaiming the island. The supplies they discovered were crucial for sustaining their army.

Robb replied cheerfully, "The supplies are intact in the air-raid shelters. The Triarchy pirates, who are mostly mercenaries, hadn't had time to sell off the plundered goods yet."

Hearing this, Rhaegar's tense expression relaxed, and a smile crept onto his face. "Excellent. With Bloodstone Island secured, the Triarchy won't pose a significant threat anymore."

In their previous attempt to seize Bloodstone Island, the Triarchy had faced devastating losses when Rhaegar's dragon burned dozens of their warships. Now, with their main force decimated at Cape Wrath, even the wealth of the three city-states couldn't withstand such consecutive heavy blows. Internal disputes over these losses would further weaken them.

As they conversed, Vaemond and other commanders gathered around. Rhaegar scanned their faces, drew Dragon Claw, raised it high, and shouted, "Did you all enjoy the battle?"

He had controlled the battle's outcome, shouldering the responsibility for potential failure and basking in the glory of success. His words resonated with the commanders, who looked at him with admiration and respect.

Vaemond's dark face revealed a mix of emotions, his eyes especially intense. He slowly knelt, raising his scimitar above his head, and declared in a deep voice, "Prince, you are worthy of the title of King's Heir. House Velaryon pays tribute to you!"

...

The commanders fell to their knees, raising their weapons above their heads, all eyes fixed on Rhaegar. His long silver-gold hair, striking purple eyes, handsome face, and cold demeanor combined with the resolute yet youthful features created a powerful image.

A single thought surfaced in everyone's mind: Perhaps, this is a true Dragonlord.

Suddenly, someone shouted, "Young Dragonlord!"

The cry stirred the crowd, and soon, the commanders joined in, their voices rising in unison.

"Young Dragonlord..."

"Young Dragonlord..."

The chants reverberated across the beach, reaching the ears of the soldiers who were clearing the battlefield. The call of "Young Dragonlord" spread like wildfire, passed from one soldier to another.

In an instant, the words "Young Dragonlord" echoed over Bloodstone Island, resonating for miles.

...

Nightfall

At the top of a mountain on Bloodstone Island, Rhaegar sat on the edge of the cliff and gazed at the four dragons hovering over the island.

"Prince, the report on armaments and supplies is as follows: enough for the entire army for a year," Robb said, holding a detailed list of the island's inventory.

"Understood, Robb," Rhaegar replied, his mind clearly elsewhere.

Robb nodded and stood silently.

Rhaegar closed his eyes and lay down, feeling the salty sea breeze on his face. The slight furrow in his brow hinted at the thoughts weighing on his mind.

"Young Dragonlord..." he murmured, shaking his head with a slight smile.

He liked the title; it fit his status perfectly. But he didn't like the implications. The title "Young Dragonlord" was royal, much like his father, Viserys, was called "Young King". With his father still in his prime, Rhaegar felt it would be disrespectful to assume such a title now. In the wrong ears, it could be twisted into something malicious.

"I hope Father's heart is big enough to ignore petty whispers," Rhaegar sighed. He took comfort in the fact that his father had always shown him a special kind of love, a bond stronger than any title could strain.

Suddenly he heard strong, dull footsteps approaching.

"Prince, there is a letter from King's Landing, stamped with the seal of the Princess of Dragonstone," came Tormund's soft voice.

Rhaegar opened his eyes and turned around. The half giant Porus was standing at the edge of the cliff, carrying the pale Tormund on his shoulder.

Rhaegar laughed, "Tormund, you have quite the knack for finding a ride!"

"Porus is not a mount; Porus is Tormund's friend," the half-giant Poru replied, his voice dull but firm.

"Sorry, Porus," Rhaegar apologized, soothing the big man's feelings.

Tormund tapped Porus on the shoulder, signaling him to let him down.

He liked the big guy. It was good to keep him safe when he warged into the Falcon.

Tormund handed Rhaegar an unopened letter. Rhaegar took it, noting the red clay seal, and tore it open.

The seal bore Rhaenyra's mark, making it genuine. "Could it be that something has happened in King's Landing again?" Rhaegar wondered anxiously as he began to read.

With the tumult of recent months, he had come to expect the worst from each letter. As he read the small script, his expression darkened.

"Envoy of Dorne... Union..." he read aloud softly, his voice dropping lower and lower as he squinted at the words. By the end, he had crushed the letter into a ball.

(Word count: 1,755)