Chapter 522: The War Begins

Early the next morning, after a night of heavy rain, the road from Wend River to Copper Gate City was muddy.

The Stormland army camped on the hills south of Copper Gate City, with various banners representing different families flying high. Among them was the crowned stag banner of House Baratheon.

"Form up in a line!" "Spearmen to the front!"

From their elevated position, the Stormland forces began to arrange their formations, overlooking the Targaryen army below.

Targaryen knights mounted their steeds and emerged from the camp. In contrast to the many banners of the Stormland representing various families, the Targaryen banners were much more straightforward.

The Targaryen army had diminished the presence of noble houses, as all military power was vested in the state, in the monarchy.

Knights from various families only served as wartime commanders. All soldiers swore allegiance to the nation, not to any specific noble.

Even a new recruit from the Riverlands would not pledge loyalty to a local lord but swear allegiance directly to the king.

Thus, the current banner of the Golden Company, also the kingdom's fourth army, bore the symbol of three dragons above a golden skull on a pale yellow backdrop.

"Form up!" "Form up!"

The vast expanse of the Targaryen army emerged from the camp, with knights on horses loudly commanding the soldiers to get into formation.

"Form a column!" "Move quickly, everyone!"

The heavy rain from the previous night had turned the battlefield into a muddy mess. Soldiers, weapons, and shields in hand, trudged through the mud to get into formation.

Although the downpour had ceased, a light drizzle continued, seemingly never-ending.

The silver-haired young man, who had disappeared into the rain last night, had obviously returned. Viserys, on a white horse, wore Valyrian steel armor and had two long swords at his waist.

One was his personal sword, Twilight, and the other was Dark Sister, which he had found in a cave the previous night.

In that cave, Viserys had drawn Dark Sister from a pile of raven skulls. Outside, a storm had erupted. He suspected a connection with the legendary Storm God.

According to a book Viserys once read, 'The Storm God is the eternal enemy of the drowned god, residing in a hall within the clouds. Ravens are his servants, leading the Ironborn to their doom.'

Given his location in the Stormlands and the stormy weather, coupled with the abundance of raven skulls, it was hard not to associate it with the Storm God.

However, speculation was just speculation. He still needed concrete evidence. Among the raven skulls, he found an unusually large one, as white as jade, buried beneath Dark Sister in the center of the pile.

Upon touching this larger raven skull, he felt an electric shock, his fingers tingling.

However, he couldn't trace the history of this raven skull, as the Old Gods' power wasn't sufficient to show him its past. So, he took the skull and Dark Sister back with him.

At that moment, a horse approached Viserys from the Targaryen formation.

"Your Grace."

Mero, leader of the Golden Company, clad in golden armor with a flowing red cloak, rode up to the hill on a tall black steed, saluting Viserys with a fist to his chest.

Viserys, also on horseback in the rain, greeted Mero with a nod. The commander then led the charge, while Viserys stood by, observing.

"Have you heard the tyrant's dragon is even bigger than Aegon's?"

Whispers spread among the Stormland soldiers as they looked at the Targaryen formation. The armies were nearly equal in number, maybe even fewer Targaryens.

Reports from Highgarden told of the Dornish army's defeat. Viserys had dispatched the Dothraki to assist their allies before leaving King's Landing. The Dothraki were led by Kago, who had served as the cavalry commander of the coalition forces.

"That's nonsense."

Another soldier dismissed the claim.

"How could Viserys's dragon be bigger than Aegon's?" "It's Stannis trying to scare us. How else could he rally so many troops?" "If Viserys's dragon were bigger, why would we even fight?"

However, the overall atmosphere wasn't tense, as the Stormland forces seemed more numerous and had the advantage of higher ground.

In this era, a few principles governed warfare. The side with more soldiers usually won.

The Stormlands were well-prepared, as lords coerced and recruited men, ranging from 14 to 60 years old. The strong were armed, the weak worked in the backlines, and even women were enlisted to cook and tend to wounds.

Then, an eerie silence enveloped the battlefield.

"Everyone, on my command!"

Mero, in his golden armor, drew his sword and roared.

"Charge!"

The battlefield erupted with the sound of horns, war drums, and fierce battle cries.

"Kill! Them! All!"