Chapter 547: The Tower of the Old Town

"At the heart of it, Viserys seeks to dismantle the old order, aiming to forge a singular, unified realm."

"No more talk of the Seven Kingdoms, no more civil strife, no trueborn nobles, only one king."

Inside the Citadel's council chamber, a silver-haired maester spoke with deep concern.

"Thus, even after amassing a force capable of toppling the Seven Kingdoms, he chose to bide his time in King's Landing for half a year."

"The Targaryen Dragon King isn't one for mercy to his foes, but aims for a strike so swift, his adversaries will vanish in the war, with no room for second thoughts."

Another maester within the chamber responded.

Following the First Conquest, Viserys remained discreet in King's Landing for six moons.

The scholars and maesters of the Citadel deduced that the Targaryen forces could have proceeded with their conquest, claiming Stormlands, Riverlands, Westerlands, and the Vale.

Yet Viserys refrained, causing some scholars to speculate if he was truly content with matrimony and offspring in King's Landing.

Now, it seems, that was a ruse. Viserys was amassing strength, veiling his ambitions.

Like a punch thrown, to exert maximum force, one must first draw back the fist.

He sought a decisive victory, not a drawn-out conflict, revealing no intentions against the Faith or the Citadel.

Any premature move would have garnered immense resistance, perhaps even forcing him to abandon his aims.

A worldly pushback against him.

"This is the Dragon King's intent."

"To obliterate the old order of the world, mercilessly extinguishing anything that stands before him."

The Faith and the Citadel stand in direct opposition to his efforts to dismantle the old ways, a maester voiced in despair.

"He wishes to destroy the Citadel?"

"To burn every tome, bury every scholar, all in his quest for a new world?"

"His absence in Oldtown, using the Dothraki to siege and decimate the Starry Sept, was the first strike against the Faith."

"He can now blame the savages, washing his hands clean."

Inside the council chamber, the maesters and scholars chattered in despair, seeming to discern Viserys's intent.

Suddenly, a tumultuous noise arose from outside.

"Roar!"

Dothraki riders began flooding into the Citadel.

At the heart of Oldtown stood the towering Hightower.

Its pinnacle burned with an ever-glowing flame, casting away the darkness as the sun set, standing as the last beacon of hope for the distressed people and soldiers of Oldtown.

Atop the Hightower, the elderly lord of Oldtown, Lord Leyton Hightower, resided in a realm unreachable by common men.

The Voice of Oldtown, the Master of the Port, the Lord of the Hightower, the protector of the Citadel, the Beacon of the South, Lord Leyton had many titles that weighed heavy upon him.

The Targaryen army pointed directly at Oldtown. Despite Lord Leyton's three attempts at parley, there was no reply. In anger, he ordered his eldest son to repel the invaders, only to receive news of the blood-red Honeywine and the demise of his son, Baelor Hightower.

From the Hightower family to the commoners, all of Oldtown was in panic.

Lord Leyton's tenth child, and youngest son, Ser Humfrey Hightower, suggested the family abandon Oldtown and relocate to Lys, seeking refuge with his sister Lynesse Hightower.

Lynesse, Lord Leyton's eighth child and youngest daughter, was stunning with golden locks and milky skin. Initially wed to Ser Jorah Mormont of Bear Island, she abandoned him during the exodus from the North, fleeing to Lys and never returning.

In Lys, she indulged in its luxuries and soon became the favored paramour of a Lyseni magister named Triarch Ormollen, dishonoring her husband Ser Jorah.

Now, with Lynesse being a favored concubine of the Lyseni magister, Ser Humfrey believed the magister would offer refuge to the Hightower family.

However, Lord Leyton severely rebuked his son's proposal, seemingly deeply disappointed in Lynesse.

He once opposed her marriage to Jorah, not wishing her to be wed so far north. Yet, Lynesse threatened her father and married Ser Jorah out of willfulness. Later, she left Jorah when he needed her most, becoming another's mistress in Lys.

Lord Leyton believed such actions tarnished the Hightower honor.

He told his remaining children and his fourth wife that they were free to leave if they wished, but he would stand or fall with the Hightower.

Lord Leyton and his daughter Malora, known as the 'Mad Maid' for her erratic behavior, then ascended to the tower's pinnacle to study arcane texts, seeking ways to defeat the Targaryen forces. They hadn't descended since.

Looking below at the raging fires of Oldtown, Malora exclaimed with childlike enthusiasm, "How beautiful! Father, are these the fireworks you've prepared for me?"

Lord Leyton, portly and white-haired, with rough skin spotted with age, moved with his chest jiggling, covered in hair. Draping a cloak over his shoulders without fastening it, he revealed his bare chest.

Drawing the ancestral Valyrian steel sword of House Hightower, Vigilance, he gazed down and declared, "Fear not, the Hightower has never fallen, and it won't today."

Yet at that moment, the very dragon that laid waste to the Starry Sept set its sights upon them.

The dragon's roar echoed, shaking the heavens, as Balerion flew menacingly towards the Hightower.