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The enemy had already learned that Logar the Sea Burner had returned to the Stepstones.
When word spread that he had tamed a monstrous black dragon, panic ripped through their ranks like wildfire.
Everyone knew what dragons meant. They were the undisputed masters of the sky, and their flames could turn entire armies to ash in seconds.
The main force had already been annihilated in Logar's last battle. The few hundred survivors left on the islands had no stomach for a fight against that.
They immediately started grabbing every coin, jewel, and scrap of loot they could carry, stuffing it onto the handful of battered ships still afloat, desperate to flee.
But before they could clear the harbor, a black shadow appeared on the horizon.
"It's the dragon! Run!"
The Dornish and Triarchy remnants screamed in despair as the Cannibal swept in low over the water.
"Cannibal!"
High on the dragon's back, silver hair streaming in the wind, Logar stared down at the chaos below and gave the command in a cold voice.
"Dracarys."
The Cannibal opened its jaws. Sickly green dragonflame poured down like molten death, engulfing the crowded ships in the harbor.
Wood exploded in the heat. Sails turned to ash in seconds. Men who had almost reached safety were roasted alive, their screams swallowed by the roaring flames. The entire bay glowed blood-red through thick white steam.
Logar watched the destruction with grim satisfaction, then patted the dragon's neck.
"Well done, my friend. On to the next island."
The Cannibal answered with a pleased rumble and wheeled toward Grey Gallows.
This time the Dornish remnants had seen what was coming. Some tried to hide in old mine shafts and cellars, others crouched behind stone walls with crossbows, hoping for a miracle.
Bolts with barbed heads whistled upward and clanged harmlessly off the Cannibal's scales, bouncing away like pebbles.
Logar ran a hand over the dragon's armored hide, feeling the incredible thickness and strength. No wonder it's the king of wild dragons.
He laughed darkly.
"Return the favor, Cannibal."
The dragon roared and skimmed low over the island. Its wings blotted out the sun as green flames swept across the ground. Stone walls cracked and crumbled. Mine entrances became furnaces, choking anyone inside with superheated smoke.
In one pass, both Bloodstone and Grey Gallows were turned into blazing wastelands.
The few survivors who staggered out of the flames were left screaming on blackened earth, their bodies still burning.
"Damn… I might have overdone it," Logar muttered, looking at the scorched islands below.
He had wanted to leave some work for the Velaryon fleet so they could earn their keep. Now there was almost nothing left.
He shook his head with a wry smile. "Fine. Saves time."
Guiding the Cannibal back toward the harbor, he spotted Femon and Kendel waiting with the World Devourers.
"Captain!" Femon shouted, voice thick with emotion.
Logar landed and slid from the dragon's back.
"Get the men ready. Addam is bringing a fleet loaded with supplies and craftsmen from Dragonstone. We're going to rebuild these islands from the ground up."
"Yes, my lord!"
The exhausted mercenaries straightened, eyes shining with new fire. Their captain had returned riding the most feared dragon alive. The Stepstones were about to become something far greater than a barren chain of rocks.
Logar looked out over the smoking ruins of Bloodstone and Grey Gallows, a cold, ambitious light in his violet eyes.
Addam was already on his way with supplies and skilled workers. The enemy had been burned away. Now he could tear down the old and build something new—strong fortresses, deep harbors, toll stations on every shipping lane.
The Stepstones would no longer be a lawless backwater.
They would become his kingdom.
And with the Cannibal at his side, no one would dare take it from him.