Chapter 1: Dragon and valyrian steel, Unrivaled under Heaven!
This is bad!
Tywin's heart skipped a beat, thinking that the brat had returned so quickly.
The gates of the Red Keep.
Boom—Caraxes' hind legs landed, its massive body kicking up dust, its powerful pressure forcing the city guards back.
In the short two months since the Tourney at Harrenhal, its size had grown significantly.
Daeron stepped off the dragon's back, his figure emerging from the dust.
As soon as the city guards saw him, they suppressed their fear of the dragon and joyfully opened the gates.
"Prince!"
Ser Gerold arrived upon hearing the news.
Behind him followed Jaime, dressed in silver armor and a white cloak.
Daeron walked forward expressionless, his gaze lingering a moment longer on the sword at White Bull's waist.
"A valyrian steel sword—vigilance?"
It was a standard bastard sword; even though the blade was unsheathed, the scorching aura of valyrian steel revealed its preciousness.
Gerold gripped his ancestral sword, "vigilance," and said, "Prince, many changes have occurred in King's Landing during your absence."
"That is exactly why I have returned."
Daeron didn't stop, heading straight for Maegors Holdfast.
Caraxes' molten-gold vertical pupils watched its rider depart, then it flapped its wings and took to the sky, circling above the Red Keep.
A moment later, the Throne Room.
With the Second Son returning on dragonback, Aerys became arrogant once more, sitting regally on the Iron Throne, wearing a bright golden crown.
Below the Iron Throne, three members of the Kingsguard stood in a line.
Tywin was on the right side of the hall, followed by Lannister henchmen.
Count Owen was mixed in among the Small Council Members, standing on the left side of the hall, cautiously watching the Lord Hand opposite him.
With a boom, the hall doors slowly opened.
The midday sun spilled in, and Daeron walked through the light and shadow, dressed in black with silver hair and cold purple eyes.
Click, click, click—
As he walked down the high steps, a group of figures followed him in one after another.
Daeron led the way, his purple eyes piercing everyone present.
Barristan and Ser Jon, dressed in silver armor and white cloaks, followed on his left and right, never leaving his side.
Despite being only six feet (182cm) tall, he exuded an aura of twelve feet.
Aerys grinned broadly and laughed, "Brat, you've finally returned!"
No one paid him any mind.
Daeron's gaze swept over the Lannister henchmen, finally settling on Tywin at their head, and he said coldly, "Who permitted the Lannister army to enter the city?"
Tywin remained expressionless, refusing to accept such questioning.
A Lannister has his dignity.
Daeron turned his head and saw Prince Lewyn guarding the Iron Throne, asking, "Where is Elia?"
Hearing it concerned his niece, Prince Lewyn replied, "I only recently returned to King's Landing; I haven't seen her yet."
If he hadn't seen her, then she wasn't in King's Landing.
Daeron understood and looked back at the arrogant Tywin, saying, "I'll give you one hour to have the Lannister soldiers withdraw from King's Landing."
"Prince, please mind your tone when speaking to the Lord Hand!"
Tywin didn't speak; his dog barked first.
Daeron ignored him and emphasized, "One hour. I want the original order of King's Landing restored."
When the tiger is away from the mountain, the monkey reigns as king.
He had only been away from King's Landing for over a month, and the Lannisters couldn't hold back, exposing ambitions they shouldn't have.
Just right, he would use this to establish his authority.
"Brat, are you commanding me?"
Tywin narrowed his eyes, revealing a warning intent.
Daeron said calmly, "If your people withdraw from King's Landing, I will let bygones be bygones."
The defense of King's Landing was the bottom line; anyone trying to interfere was a provocation to him.
Tywin was still useful and deserved a chance to repent.
Tywin sized up the brat before him.
Not having seen him for over a month, Daeron's presence was even more formidable than before, sharp and unshielded.
After considering for a moment, Tywin spoke, "I stationed the army in King's Landing to guard against a great enemy. Can the City Watch alone defend against them?"
Daeron said nothing, his patience nearly exhausted.
"Except for the soldiers protecting me, the army will withdraw five miles outside King's Landing to camp, with supplies and baggage provided by the Iron Throne."
Tywin chose to step back, leaving room for negotiation.
Daeron didn't haggle, stating directly, "Withdraw everyone from King's Landing and camp ten miles away. No one will be responsible for feeding your soldiers either."
Given the other's character of not acting without profit, the Lannister soldiers wouldn't take the field until the War of the Usurper was decided.
Get as far away as possible.
Tywin's face darkened, clearly dissatisfied with this result.
His henchman stepped forward and whispered in his ear, "My Lord, without baggage, the soldiers will not withdraw."
Daeron glanced at him and asked, "And who are you?"
"I am an officer under Lord Tywin."
Amory Lorch's face was hidden under a half-wrap helmet as he introduced himself in a gravelly voice.
"Amory?"
Daeron's expression became intriguing.
Eager to show his loyalty, Amory stood by Tywin's side and said loudly, "It is I!"
"Very good." Daeron smiled.
Tywin had no time to discipline his subordinate and said deeply, "You heard him. If the Iron Throne doesn't provide baggage, my soldiers will go hungry."
These words carried a threat.
If soldiers were hungry, they would find their own way to get food.
He wanted to use this method to solve the army's food supply problem.
However, the response changed.
Clang—!
Daeron's face turned cold, and he suddenly drew dark sister. Stepping forward with his right leg for stability, he gripped the sword with both hands and swung to the left, instantly cutting off half of Amory Lorch's head.
Tywin felt a blur before his eyes as blood sprayed onto his face, the stench of gore hitting his nostrils.
With a thud, half of Amory's head hit the floor. His body still stood in place, the intact lower jaw exposing his entire tongue.
A moment later, the body also collapsed to the ground, the tongue twitching.
Daeron withdrew dark sister and wiped the blood off on the sleeve of Tywin's right arm, saying calmly, "He won't have to go hungry anymore."
Whoosh!
Everyone was shocked, and the whole hall erupted in an uproar.
Ser Gerold and the other two immediately moved to stand before the Iron Throne.
Several ministers turned pale, never expecting someone to dare kill in the presence of the king, and to kill a Lannister man right in front of the Hand.
"It's been fifty years."
Daeron sheathed his sword, with a hint of disdain: "The first time it drinks blood, it gets dirtied by him."
"dark sister!!"
Aerys had the strongest reaction in the room. He stood up abruptly, his eyes fixed intently on the sword in his Second Son's hand.
It couldn't be wrong, it definitely couldn't be wrong!
It was one of the two ancestral swords of the House Targaryen that had been lost for many years.
Tywin stared at dark sister for a long time before recovering from the shock. Thick blood dripped down his face, and his voice betrayed no emotion: "Brat, you killed my man."
""
"Yes." Daeron's response was flat. "Next time, keep a better leash on your dog. A good sword isn't meant for slaughtering dogs."
Tywin took a deep breath, the smell of blood rushing to his head, making him cough.
Calm down!
He forced himself to be calm, not to be impulsive and ruin everything.
Ten minutes later.
The Dragon Gate.
The Lannister army withdrew from King's Landing the same way they had come.
Tygett Lannister led a squad of guards, wanting to stay in King's Landing to protect his older brother, but was immediately met with difficulties.
"Lord Lannister, take your soldiers and leave. Not a single one stays."
Alliser's words were biting as he brandished a light steel sword.
Tygett was dissatisfied: "I will leave a squad. The Lord Hand needs protection."
"No!"
Alliser shook his head and mocked, "King's Landing has Prince Daeron and his dragon. We don't need a pack of hyenas barking and pissing all over the streets."
Tygett was provoked and planned to argue with force.
Bang!
Alliser kicked the other's knee, his sturdy body following through with a spin, his golden cloak fluttering as he slammed his sword elbow hard into Tygett's face.
Not only was there a gap in their mastery of Life Force, but their combat experience was also worlds apart.
Alliser withdrew his light steel sword and looked at the Lannister soldiers, saying contemptuously, "I've seen enough today. Take your commander back and clean him up well. Don't let that arrogant face be disfigured."
The Lannister soldiers hurried forward and carried away the dizzy Tygett.
The Throne Room.
Daeron stood by the window, watching with his own eyes as the Lannister army withdrew from King's Landing before he was satisfied.
Killing Amory Lorch was to establish authority.
On the other hand, he couldn't stand the man's beastly behavior.
In the original story, when King's Landing fell, he had dragged a three-year-old girl from under a bed and brutally murdered her with dozens of stabs.
This kind of creature, barely distinguishable from a beast, had no reason to live.
"Brat, are you satisfied now?"
Tywin's face was as dark as water, his voice nearly hoarse.
The bright bloodstain was still reminding him of the coercion he had just faced.
Daeron didn't even spare him a glance.
With the War of the Usurper imminent, every faction would have to go through a period of bone-deep growing pains.
He could tolerate the man, but that didn't mean the man could follow the path of the original story.
Whether the Lannisters were friend or foe depended entirely on Tywin's subsequent performance.
Aerys seemed manic, saying excitedly, "Brat, is that sword in your hand dark sister?"
Over a month ago, the Second Son had disappeared.
Could he have gone to the North specifically to retrieve the ancestral sword taken by "Bloodraven" Brynden?
Daeron still ignored him and waved his hand, signaling his people to part.
Maester Aemon, dressed in black robes, stepped forward, waving away Davos who intended to support him, and walked unhurriedly toward the Iron Throne with his cane.
His eyes were bright, and he squinted at the figure atop the Iron Throne, overlapping it with a figure from his memory, falling into distant recollections.
The ministers fell silent.
Seeing the newcomer, a flicker of shock passed through Aerys' eyes, and his expression slowly calmed as he tilted his head in confusion, "Is it you, Aemon Targaryen?"
"It is I, child."
Maester Aemon emerged from his memories, gazing at his brother Egg's grandson, feeling infinite emotion in his heart.
Aerys was greatly displeased: "Maester, I am the King!"
"Of course." Maester Aemon did not argue, saying softly, "I should call you Your Majesty, and serve you for the rest of my life..."
"Serve?"
Aerys was puzzled.
Maester Aemon, like a persuasive teacher, told his grand-nephew how he had returned and that he would write to The Citadel to have them change their minds and let him become the Grand Maester himself.
Aerys was silent for a long time before saying nonsensically, "Your teeth are almost all gone."
But he was surprisingly calm and did not refute him.
In this way, Maester Aemon tentatively took on the role of Grand Maester, with Acting Maester Harvey serving as his assistant to familiarize him with the affairs of the castle.
The Targaryens were reunited, and the Lannisters were humiliated.
Everyone left the hall one after another.
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