South shore of the God's Eye, Draco.
The spring afternoon sunlight spilled across the碧波河 (Bibo River), the water surface shimring with golden ripples. The grass on both banks had grown tall, dotted with wildflowers — red, yellow, purple — scattered like stars.
A black stallion was strolling leisurely along the riverbank.
Two people sat on its back: Sansa Stark in front, Luke behind.
Luke's arms wrapped gently around her waist, lightly holding the reins. The horse walked very slowly, as if savoring this rare mont of peace.
Beside them, three baby dragons were "flying escort."
Although they were not yet three months old, under Luke's daily, unwavering magical feeding, they could already flap their little wings and fly.
They just didn't fly very fast.
Little Black flew relatively steadily, but Little Cyan and Little White's flying posture was quite poor. Their small wings flapped rapidly, yet their bodies wobbled left and right, looking rather strenuous, as if they might "crash" at any second.
Sansa's attention, however, was drawn to sothing else.
She felt the man's strong chest and masculine presence behind her. Her pretty face flushed abnormally, as if she were drunk.
Luke lowered his head and whispered in her ear, "Lady Sansa, it's hard to imagine you don't know how to ride a horse?"
His breath brushed against her ear, making Sansa's face even redder.
She bit her lip, her voice soft as a feather: "Your Majesty, my mother said… riding and archery are things boys learn. As a girl, I should spend more ti learning proper lady's etiquette."
ntioning her mother, her voice suddenly dropped.
A layer of mist rose in those blue eyes.
Luke sensed the girl's low mood in his arms. He tightened his arms slightly, pulling her closer.
"Don't worry," he whispered in her ear, "I swear here that I will make the Lannisters pay for murdering your family."
Sansa's tears finally slipped down.
She raised her hand and gently wiped her eyes, her voice low:
"Your Majesty, if I can one day hear that justice has been served, I will be satisfied."
Luke turned her slightly sideways and took out a handkerchief to wipe her tears.
"Believe ," he looked into her eyes, "that day will not be far away."
Sansa nodded and leaned back into his embrace.
Her head rested against his broad chest, listening to his strong heartbeat.
The two of them were imrsed in tender warmth, lost in each other.
Suddenly…
"Hiss!"
"Hiss!"
Two稚嫩 (childish) hisses broke the silence.
Little Black had sohow landed on the horse's head.
The majestic warhorse beneath them was instantly startled. It stopped imdiately, ears pricked up, body tense. Although it was a warhorse, having a dragon — even a newborn one — perched on its head made it too nervous to move.
Little Black turned its head and wobbled its way along the horse's neck. It walked unsteadily, its tiny claws gripping the mane tightly, afraid of falling off.
Little Cyan and Little White also fluttered down onto Luke's shoulders — or more accurately, his head.
Little White lay on top of Luke's head, its tail hanging down and swaying in front of his forehead. Little Cyan hung on his right shoulder, its little head looking around curiously at everything.
Luke reached up and lifted Little White off his head.
It was the gentlest of the three dragons, though it had little goodwill toward girls who got close to Luke.
Lifted in front of him, it imdiately bared its teeth and hissed fiercely at Sansa.
"Hiss~!"
The expression looked exactly like a jealous little wife.
Sansa was startled, then covered her mouth and giggled.
"It… it seems to dislike ," she said softly.
Luke laughed. "It's like a little wife — it can't stand getting close to anyone."
He moved Little White closer to Sansa. "Sansa, don't be afraid. Little White is very gentle."
Sansa straightened her posture and slowly leaned toward Little White. She reached out, wanting to touch it.
Before she could, Little Cyan fluttered down from Luke's shoulder.
Plop.
It landed accurately in Sansa's arms.
Sansa froze.
Little Cyan nestled in her arms, raised its head, and looked at her with its bronze-colored eyes, letting out a soft:
"Eee-yah."
Not a hiss, not a roar — just a milky, baby-like call.
Sansa's heart lted.
The three dragons had very different personalities. Little Black was the most irritable and arrogant, Little White was the gentlest, and Little Cyan was the silliest… it only cared about eating.
Under Luke's guidance, they did not reject the people around him too much. Especially Little Cyan — as long as you gave it food, it would let anyone touch it.
Sansa carefully reached out and gently stroked Little Cyan's little head.
The scales were warm, feeling like smooth jade. Little Cyan squinted its eyes and made a comfortable purring sound.
She touched its little wings. The wings were thin, and light could pass through to show the veins inside.
"I actually touched a dragon…" Sansa murmured, her beautiful eyes wide with disbelief.
She looked up at Luke. "Can they breathe fire?"
Luke chuckled. "Of course. Breathing fire and flying are dragons' instincts. Little Black roasted its own at with fire yesterday."
He pointed at the sulking Little Black still on the horse's head. "It's a bit fierce. You'd better not try to touch it, or it might roast you."
Little Black seed to understand. It raised its little head and let out a proud:
"Hiss!"
Sansa smiled.
This was the first ti she had truly laughed since learning of her family's death.
299 AC, the last day of March.
Outside Grey Glen Town, a vast army was assembling.
Banners fluttered, blotting out the sky.
This force numbered twelve thousand n, including 4,000 Unsullied and 8,000 mbers of the Jaqenion Family Guard.
They wore uniform standard armor — full plate that glead coldly in the sunlight. Their weapons were also standardized: spears, longswords, shields, crossbows — neat and uniform.
The Unsullied were the sa.
They were no longer slaves from Slaver's Bay, but the most loyal warriors of House Jaqenion.
Now, they were collectively called the "National Defense Army."
After all, Luke was now a king!
The army included five thousand cavalry.
The warhorses were armored, the knights held lances, and swords hung at their waists. Their cloaks were black, embroidered with golden dragon patterns.
The Unsullied and the remaining soldiers were infantry.
Their formations were even stricter, their steps more uniform, silent like a moving wall.
Luke had also selected five hundred of the tallest and strongest soldiers from the entire army of twenty thousand.
He equipped them with a special weapon — the "Mo Dao" (Horse-Cutting Blade).
Long handle, wide blade, wielded with both hands. It was said that one swing could cut both rider and horse in half.
Whether it worked or not remained to be tested!
These soldiers were all incredibly strong giants — tall, burly, and thick-waisted. They had undergone special training for a period of ti and ford a "Mo Dao Squad"!
Unfortunately, there wasn't enough ti, or he would have trained even more Mo Dao soldiers.
These twelve thousand n did not need much logistical support.
They could fight wherever they went!
Because Luke himself was their greatest supply line.
With his personal space, he could carry enough food for the entire army for half a year and replenish weapons and equipnt at any ti.
If it wasn't enough, he could just go to Earth and restock. War was a contest of logistics, and logistics was what Luke feared least!
He stood at the front of the army, wearing a full set of golden armor and a pure white cloak!
The three baby dragons perched on his shoulders or flew around him, curiously watching the massive army before them.
Luke raised his hand.
The entire army fell silent.
"Move out! Target — Harrenhal!"
With one command, the great army set forth.
The column marched northward in a mighty procession.
That colossal castle that once belonged to Black Harren was now occupied by Tywin Lannister.
Luke intended to capture Harrenhal, cut off Tywin's path to reinforce King's Landing, and force the Westerlands to surrender!
Then he would take the entire Riverlands.
It was ti to let the people of the Seven Kingdoms know that he, Luke, was not playing house!
The army advanced along the Jaqenion Avenue. Hoofbeats thundered, banners blotted out the sun.
On both sides of the road, countless citizens of Draco cheered.
"Long live King Luke!"
"Long live Jaqenion!"
"Dragons! Dragons! Dragons!"
The three baby dragons were startled by the scene and hid inside Luke's cloak.
Luke smiled.
He raised his head and looked north.
With the North defeated, Renly dead, and Stannis already marching on King's Landing, King's Landing could not hold against Stannis. Therefore, Tywin would have no choice but to return to reinforce the capital.
Two of the "Five Kings" were already out. As expected, Stannis would et his end at the Blackwater. This was the perfect ti for Luke to make his "strategic entrance"!
Although he didn't have adult dragons yet… it didn't matter!
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