With Rhaegar's orders, the Targaryen Army and others became a war machine that made it impossible for enemy soldiers to sleep. Sleep deprivation has always been one of the most used tortures for a reason: it was terribly efficient.
Sleep deprivation caused numerous casualties on the enemy side, making the Baratheon House Army try to retaliate, but, with the number of soldiers and high morale, the soldiers, despite being bothered by the loud sound, managed to sleep normally.
Robert felt things were going from bad to worse. He hated this kind of tactical warfare; he liked to ride on the battlefield, killing anyone in front, as a true man should be. But, facing Rhaegar's repugnant tactics, he had already lost two thousand soldiers.
This was not a small number, especially when you had about fifty thousand soldiers. This represented 4% of the army, all dead in less than a week.
Not to mention the low morale, the lack of sleep; the lack of hope and the lack of victory brought the army's morale to the lowest possible. Knowing he could no longer stand still, Robert mounted his warhorse and wielded his hammer.
Robert was worthy of being called the Demon of the Trident; the man looked like a mountain and his hammer was what caught everyone's attention. Whether armor or shield, the hammer crushed with shocking ease.
Accompanied by an elite squad of soldiers, Robert rode like an arrow, leaving a trail of corpses with crushed skulls and shattered chests.
On the battlefield, Robert had just crushed the head of some unlucky fellow and caught his breath; the air inside the helmet was warm enough. However, the Demon's blue eyes stared at the massacre before him calmly.
Suddenly, a black horse appeared in Robert's field of vision; black armor covered the horse, as well as the knight riding it. The rubies on the chest of the armor, forming the Targaryen House crest, gleamed against the sun. The Black Helmet with wings on the sides made the Lord of Storm's End hold his breath; a wild smile appeared on his lips.
"RHAEGARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!"
A cry of fury and ferocity echoed on the battlefield.
Rhaegar, who had just cut off the head of a poor unlucky man, looked at the familiar bronze armor with proud enormous horns with a calm gaze.
Perhaps realizing that Rhaegar and Robert, the mortal enemies, were about to collide, the commanders ordered the troops to retreat, making way for both to fight.
However, the Kingsguard composed of Arthur Dayne, Jonothor Darry, and Barristan Selmy remained around the king. All riding white horses along with their gleaming white armor. They didn't care if someone called them cowards; their duty was to protect the king and nothing more.
Touching his empty arm, Robert shouted loudly, his voice full of fury and resentment. "FIFTEEN YEARS AGO, YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED IF IT WEREN'T FOR THE MORNING STAR, BUT YOU DIE IN THIS WAR."
Rhaegar listened to everything in silence; the stifling heat inside the helmet made him more lucid than ever, his violet eyes stared at Robert with a cold and deep gaze. The enemy's words never really shook him at all.
Indeed, he would have lost to Robert fifteen years ago and things would have been different, but after fifteen years, he was no longer that young man in his early twenties. Fifteen years had passed and he was much more deadly than he was.
"My king, let me bring you the traitor's head." Barristan Selmy spoke with a cold and deadly tone. He might be old, but age had only refined his sword skills. Despite being old, he could cut five men as if cutting a cake.
Rhaegar did not answer and continued looking at Robert; the horse beneath him seemed restless, but, under everyone's eyes, the black horse approached Robert. The Kingsguard accompanied the king without any hesitation.
Everyone had to admire the Kingsguard; apart from some periods of turmoil, it can be said that this order of knights was the pinnacle of the elite of the elite of the Continent of Westeros. Even a mad monarch like Aerys II had one of the most powerful Kingsguards in the history of the Targaryen dynasty.
"It's been a while, Robert, my cousin." Stopping five meters from Robert, Rhaegar spoke in a calm tone, completely different from Robert's crazy and shouting tone.
"Cousin?" Robert seemed to hear something funny. "I DON'T HAVE A RAPIST COUSIN WHO STEALS OTHER PEOPLE'S BRIDES!!!"
Rhaegar had no excuses or even offered a reason for his actions. As Robert said, he really stole Robert's future wife; that was an irrefutable fact.
"I didn't rape Lyanna, Robert." Rhaegar calmed the horse beneath him and spoke in a cold tone. "That's just an excuse you clung to because you couldn't believe the woman you love simply didn't choose you."
If there were a damage indicator in this world, red numbers would be appearing above Robert's head. Rhaegar's words were like opening an old wound and pouring salt on it. It was exactly as Rhaegar had said. He didn't want to believe that Lyanna went willingly; he refused to accept that he was replaced, he refused to believe that his bride would accept the touch of a man other than him.
Shame and resentment turned into anger in an instant.
Without saying a word, Robert made the horse beneath him charge towards Rhaegar. The warhammer advanced with simply abysmal speed.
Rhaegar raised his dense black oak shield and defended the blow without any hesitation. However, when the impact happened, the king only felt his arm tremble; splinters of wood flew everywhere.
The king did not hesitate and struck with his sword, aiming at the armor joints, or more precisely, at the joint between the helmet and breastplate. The sword cut through the air with a sharp sound and the diamond-shaped tip looked like a spear.
Robert, an experienced warrior, was quick and moved his body to the side in the final moments. Making the sword tip spark with the collision of sword and armor.
The horses of both kings distanced themselves, turned around, and positioned themselves facing each other again.
Everyone around had held their breath for fear of disturbing the duel before them. If they missed any detail of this battle, they would regret it for the rest of their lives.
Rhaegar looked at his shield and saw a deep dent in the dense wooden shield. He presumed that the shield would withstand two more attacks before becoming useless. This was dangerous, especially with someone like Robert, who used a hammer.
However, Rhaegar did not hesitate and made his horse charge towards Robert. The horse practically turned into a black blur, tearing through the air.
Robert also did not hesitate; the mad, unrestrained laughter of the Lord of Storm's End reverberated across the battlefield.
In an instant, both collided again. Shield with hammer, sword with armor. Splinters of wood, sparks, and grunts of pain.
The collision was brutal; Rhaegar felt he had fractured a bone, once again enduring the hammer's attack with his shield. Robert also did not escape unscathed from the collision; Rhaegar's sword hit the slit of his helmet squarely.
Beneath the helmet, a bloody hole appeared on Robert's cheek. Blood ran down his cheek and chin; the pain only made the smile on Robert's face wider.
Despite being wounded, both kings turned around and positioned themselves again. Arthur, Barristan, and Jonothor no longer cared about the duel; they saw the king's arm trembling, indicating he was injured. When the three members of the Kingsguard were about to advance, Robert's elite squad advanced.
The Kingsguard did not hesitate, advancing towards the king without any fear of death, even in the face of a dozen fully armed knights and, obviously, war veterans.
"Barristan and Jonothor, you take care of them, I will protect the king." Arthur shouted to his comrades-in-arms and advanced.
Barristan and Jonothor followed orders and advanced fearlessly towards the dozens of knights.
Rhaegar and Robert cared about nothing else, their attention was fully focused on each other. Anything else was irrelevant!
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