Game of Dragonborn

Chapter 262 – Killing some Blackfyres.

[Chapter Size: 2700 Words.]

Third Person POV.

King's Landing.

...

...

"Tiid Klo Ul!" Daemon unleashed another Thu'um in the very next moment.

His arms became faster and faster, and with that, he plunged into the crowd. He was not just moving at high speed, Daemon no longer seemed human at all, as his arms truly began to cut through armor and screaming men, while he kept advancing.

To them, he moved beyond human limits, but for Daemon, everything happened in slow motion. Easily killing men at their weak points, while leaving a river of corpses behind.

His armor was already stained with blood, covering most of the black it once had. Even so, he kept advancing over groups of desperate men.

"Fus Ro Dah!"

"Fo Krah Diin!"

"Yol Toor Shul"

"Ven Gaar Nos!"

His Thu'um continued being spat one after another. The sound on the battlefield became a gradual sequence of strange words, followed by thunderous noises like roaring thunder in the middle of that sunny day.

Fire, ice, relentless force — everything turned into chaos, as the man continued carving a path, creating devastation that anyone outside of it, looking in that direction, would be terrified.

Behind Daemon, already at some distance, Viridrax continued advancing, exhaling flames as he burned everything around him.

The entire place was covered in dark smoke, to the point that those who were still alive in that inferno began to die suffocated due to the carbon dioxide in the air and the lack of oxygen, while the flames kept consuming the air.

So the air was toxic and killed by suffocation. Although not as lethal as the freezing cold, anyone there in the middle of so many flames would be in serious trouble.

Daemon continued cutting and massacring men without stopping. The cavalry finally came to his side, as horses began to appear, cutting down men from some of the nearby sides, which made things even easier.

Even so, that group of men from various houses, supporting the Blackfyres, tried to focus on him, trying to reach him. Even if it meant dying, they still held their ground, although anyone who appeared in front of him began to retreat in fear before even being killed.

He unleashed another relentless force, creating a wave of men flying through the air. At least more than two hundred of them were thrown, being injured in various ways, their bodies swaying like dolls in the air before gravity did its work.

It was easy to break bones or throw them far away, as happened that time when Robb tried to capture him in the Riverlands — he responded with the same power against fifty men.

He kept advancing. For a moment, he could see, in the distance, in the middle of the crowd, the eyes of Aegon Blackfyre staring at him. His face was pale, seeing all of that, while Daemon got closer and closer, and his eyes shone with fear.

A roar came from above once again. Winter was flying overhead while continuing to roar, frightening the enemies and making them shift their attention both to the sky, fearing the dragon's attack from above, and to the riders, the fire dragon on the ground, or the Dragonborn himself.

A crash came from further back and a second cavalry charge was launched at one flank, as they began advancing to try to stop Daemon's cavalry in the middle of the army.

They were trying to stop it, even at a disadvantage. However, thanks to the Thu'um that Daemon had unleashed earlier, all the tens of thousands in the cavalry charge were destroying any resistance from the enemy.

Meanwhile, that cavalry tried to catch the enemy from behind, advancing along the side of the flames toward the west. Daemon merely snorted, leaving that for Winter to handle.

The one leading the cavalry was none other than Randyll Tarly. Even after the burns affecting nearly half of his body, he had returned to his horse and was commanding a second group to try to bring down that cavalry that was causing chaos within the Blackfyre army's formation.

What they did not expect was that, while riding at high speed, a white mass simply rushed from the sky toward them. Commander Tarly barely had time to react when it dove onto him, using its legs as impact. Tarly was forcefully pushed and crushed against the ground, along with the horse, which let out only a scream of despair.

The entire cavalry had no way to stop, with the dragon right in front of them. Winter simply let a few riders crash into her while she spun her body, swinging her tail and striking an entire line of riders. The others stopped immediately.

She turned again toward them and roared, making them begin to retreat, unable to control their horses in fear of the dragon. Seeing that the movement was effective enough to stop the enemy cavalry, Winter flapped her wings again, while some arrows and spears tried to hit her.

Thus, Lord Tarly had been killed — crushed by the paw of a dragon that had simply descended from the sky in the middle of an attack. It would be a good story in the future: the fearsome general of the south, defeated in such a way.

At the same time that Daemon wanted to laugh, he grabbed the Leviathan Axe and began to tighten his grip, as its runes started to glow.

It was time to use the true power stored within the Leviathan Axe — something Daemon had never truly used.

Daemon smiled, letting his hands glow. In the next moment, he sheathed Dark Sister and held the axe with both hands, preparing for the impact.

With force, he slammed it into the ground.

In the next instant, a massive explosion of ice was generated, surging against everything ahead. The explosion drew the attention of the entire battlefield, shattering everything in its path, while growing blades of ice emerged, creating spikes and piercing anything in front of them.

The men barely had time to react. They tried to defend themselves, but soon found themselves surrounded, watching that thing advance toward them. Some tried to flee, but were struck shortly after.

"What was that?!", someone beside Aegon shouted, fear in his eyes.

All that remained was a vast expanse of ice, with several men being impaled — at least two hundred were scattered, with blood gushing out. Some still screamed, their bodies trapped on the spikes.

Daemon saw it. It was a path now. He began to change his body, and as he started transforming into a werewolf, growing and sprouting fur, the men who had survived did not know whether to look at the ice or at the transformation happening before them.

His muscles expanded, his body grew, reaching nearly three meters in height with white fur emerging everywhere, while his jaw extended.

In the next moment, a roar came. ROOOAAAARRRR

With the howl echoing across the battlefield, he gripped the axe and created another massive blade of ice — perfect for fighting in that form.

Then, he dashed like a werewolf across the ice.

He advanced over layers of ice and spikes, running and jumping across the peaks created, all the way to the end, before leaping into the last part of the crowd. The men, terrified, could barely react.

He landed among them, already attacking, cutting everything with ease in a full circle. As he advanced, leaving men screaming in pain.

And he went straight toward his target. Where Aegon was, he made a few more leaps through the crowd of men still trying to stop him, moving as he once had between the structures and houses within King's Landing when he had transformed into a werewolf and terrorized the city for days the first time he came after mutilating the king.

He simply advanced, landing at a distance, facing his enemies, who looked at him with horror and fear. Among them, now almost no one was left standing between Aegon and Daemon, aside from a few swords.

He threw the axe, killing a few more, before pulling it back again. Aegon was frightened, as he quickly drew Blackfyre as his only protection against that giant humanoid wolf.

However, a guard stepped forward between Daemon and Aegon.

"I won't let you pass, monster!", Jorah Mormont said, his blade trembling. He was clearly afraid.

Daemon simply opened his mouth in a smile, because none of them imagined what that monster could still do.

He began to transform once more, but then shrank, returning to his human form, wearing his black and red armor once again. His purple eyes stared at the enemy from within the helmet's visor.

"Do not worry, Ser. I will fight you with sword against sword, as long as no one interferes in our fight", he said, making sure no one would step in.

No one seemed willing to advance at that moment. He then turned his helmet back to his opponent, while removing the Leviathan Axe and drawing Dark Sister once again.

Ser Jorah waited, but Daemon wasted no time and advanced, exchanging quick blows, forcing the knight into a defensive stance.

But the difference was far too great. Daemon wondered whether he should kill him or not. He thought of his father on the Wall, Jeor Mormont, the Lord Commander would probably want his son not to die that way.

But this man had handed Viserys over after serving him. How could Daemon forgive that?

So to hell with Jorah Mormont.

He simply spun his body and struck a heavy blow to the side of his neck, the sound of flesh tearing echoed as blood gushed out, making him fall to the ground agonizing, before Dark Sister struck again, piercing straight through his neck for a quicker death.

"You would have served well in the Night's Watch alongside your father. But because of your crimes, you died for betraying a member of House Targaryen, mad or not. I cannot accept that after you betrayed him in your position as his guard." Daemon might not have cared, but this one was a turncloak.

With those words, Daemon turned his attention back to the true target. Now, in front of him, Aegon trembled a little more.

"Protect the king!", someone shouted.

Daemon simply looked at those fools. With a gesture of his hand and telekinesis, he began breaking the necks of more than eight knights who desperately approached to stand between him and the king.

"That is not honorable!", a voice shouted in horror as the men fell dead to the ground at the same time.

Daemon looked at who had spoken. It was Garlan Tyrell, Willas's brother, recognizable by the sigil on his armor and by standing among the high command of the battle.

"What do we have here… a Tyrell?", Daemon said. "You speak to me of honor? It is easy to speak when you fight beside a boy who is nothing but a coward… someone who is only here because of a name and needs men to protect him."

"Do not fall for his words!", Varys said beside the king.

Before he could say anything else, his body was pulled forward, as if an invisible force dragged him — which, in fact, it did.

Daemon simply pulled him close. "Hello, Varys."

The eunuch did not even have a chance to respond. His throat was immediately seized by Daemon's hand, lifting him up, maintaining direct contact as he tightened his grip around his neck.

"I know you hate magic. I know you hate me more than anything. Well… I can say I am a little flattered by that. But it does not matter now, does it? After all… you are a dead man. Goodbye."

He simply moved the blade and pierced Varys's heart, who only felt that sting, letting out a groan before looking, almost in disbelief, at his own pierced chest… and then at Daemon, who stared at him with a cold gaze.

"Did you expect a more grand death? Unfortunately, this is what you will have." Daemon declared this as he withdrew the blade, letting the body fall dead to the ground.

"Now… let's see what else we have here." He said as Garlan and Aegon stared at him with clenched teeth at seeing another ally die, right in front of them.

"I will not use special powers. I will fight only with the blade and my physical and martial skills."

"You liar! I will judge you now!", Garlan stepped forward.

Daemon smiled. Then, he simply moved his arm at high speed — so fast that no one, not even Garlan or Aegon, could react.

He threw Dark Sister. The sword spun through the air and struck Garlan perfectly in the neck, passing through the opening in his armor. The impact threw him a meter back before he fell to the ground. Soon he began to roll in agony while trying to pull the sword out, he could not even scream anymore with blood flowing from his neck and mouth.

He had hit the perfect spot. Garlan remained there, his eyes glazed over, dying right there.

Aegon saw that… and then turned his gaze to Daemon.

He could not even form words — everything was stuck in his throat.

Daemon merely shrugged. "What is it? I said I would use a blade. I did not say I could not attack by throwing it, did I?"

He mocked before starting to take steps toward Aegon.

"Back off!", Aegon shouted.

Daemon wanted to laugh. "Do you not see? I am an unarmed man now, Blackfyre. I hope you were not too saddened by me killing your uncle right in front of you."

Everyone around stopped fighting. Even the cavalry slowed down, watching. Now, Daemon and Aegon were close enough to begin a duel.

Many had seen everything Daemon had done: killing Jorah Mormont with his sword, killing Varys with magic, and throwing the sword into Garlan Tyrell's neck.

Now, the two stood face to face. Everyone on the Blackfyre side knew: the death of their monarch was inevitable.

Even in that army, some even wished for it, knowing they were losing — they wanted to die there.

Daemon took another step.

Aegon trembled.

Daemon stopped right in front of him.

The sword Blackfyre even touched Daemon's armor, but there was no movement to attack.

In the end… Aegon was only trembling. How could he deal with that monster?

His courage had evaporated as he watched his companions dying and falling around him. Daemon moved closer to the sword's hilt with his hands.

"Well… it seems everything ends here." He moved closer to Aegon's head. The young man only watched him — he made no move to stop him. In the end, the Blackfyre simply accepted his defeat. Accepted that he would die.

Daemon leaned close to his ear. He was no longer even wearing his helmet.

"It seems you lost. In your next life, try not to live off a bluff. You can see it with your own eyes… you were never prepared to deal with this. And this transition brought us here, for you to die now. Goodbye."

In the next moment, a thunderous sound echoed. Aegon opened his mouth, beginning to gush blood.

Daemon had pierced his heart.

He stepped back, still holding Blackfyre — the sword he had taken from Aegon's own hands — and drove it into Aegon's chest, killing him.

Then he pulled it out, as the body fell to the ground, agonizing in its final moments… until it died.

Daemon turned to the men around him, who stared at him in fear. "It seems your king is dead."

After those words, they simply began to drop their shields and weapons.

"We surrender!", the first shouted, kneeling down.

"Well… with that, the war ends." Daemon said in a calm tone — almost bored. He had already had this outcome in mind the whole time.

He walked away without a single scratch, even after entering the middle of the enemy army, carving a path to their king… and killing him in an almost pathetic manner.

With that, the trumpet of victory began to sound. The cavalry stopped the massacre, while more and more soldiers from the enemy army began to surrender.

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