Chapter 151 The Three-Headed Dragon
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"Dragons require massive amounts of meat. You handle that problem, and add a little something extra while you’re at it."
Lucas tossed out several vials of blue serum from his robes; it was permanent Compound V. He wondered if the dragons would undergo some strange evolution after consuming it.
Perhaps laser vision! Enhanced physique! Super speed! They might even be able to speak human language...
Afterward, fed with ample meat, the growth rate of the three dragons completely transcended the boundaries of biology.
In less than half a year, their size ballooned from that of an average hound to over a hundred meters in length, with wingspans wide enough to shroud the mountains and ridges overlooking the entire city of Meereen.
There was hope that they might eventually match the size of the largest dragon in the history of Game of Thrones, Balerion the Black Dread.
By the third year, the three dragons had reached full maturity.
Drogon, the largest of them, had scales the size of shields, and a single breath of dragonfire could instantly level several kilometers of red brick ruins.
Growing alongside the dragons was the military strength on the other side of the Narrow Sea.
Under the call for a People’s Republic, the millions of liberated slaves erupted with the terrifying cohesion unique to those who have been freed.
In just a few short years, massive military factories and shipyards sprang up along the west coast.
The Unsullied expanded to fifty thousand, and with the combined infantry of free folk and Dothraki Riders, the total force reached three hundred thousand. Meanwhile, at every major port, thousands of warships forged from sturdy ironwood already filled the sea.
"Dany." Lucas stood on the watchtower of the Meereen port, looking out as the ships on the sea stretched to the horizon.
"Cross the sea. Go and overthrow the feudal dynasties across the Narrow Sea; the age of gods shall finally arrive!"
The continent of Westeros had long been plunged into a war that had lasted for three years.
Three years ago, King Robert Baratheon stabbed Cersei Lannister to death, deposed Prince Joffrey Baratheon, and even severed the wrist of Jaime Lannister, intending to further lure Tywin into a trap.
As it turned out, for some unknown reason, Tywin had received word in advance. It was no surprise that Varys had been at work!
His "little birds" were said to be spread across the entire continent; they could even keep track of how many times the King went to the bathroom or how many times he had intimate relations that day.
This conspirator followed the global situation with fanatical interest, believing that the politics on the other side of the Narrow Sea were exactly what the world needed.
Thus, this spymaster sent a secret letter directly to Tywin. Everything—the ambush at the Red Keep, Cersei Lannister’s death—was leaked to the Westerlands.
Upon receiving the news, Tywin Lannister displayed the resolve of an iron-blooded tycoon; he immediately rallied his troops in the Westerlands, mobilizing a fully armed army of sixty thousand. They marched straight for the Riverlands!
The House Lannister motto was: "Hear Me Roar." At this moment, Tywin intended to make the entire realm hear the roar of the Westerlands.
In his haste, King Robert Baratheon could only smash his goblet in King’s Landing and don his heavy iron armor once more—he could barely fit into it, but fortunately, he finally swung his warhammer and fought the first battle in a rush.
The North reacted with incredible speed; the Starks ordered the eldest son, Robb, to lead twenty thousand troops scraped together from the entire region to march south and support King Robert Baratheon.
Renly of the Stormlands and Stannis of Dragonstone—King Robert Baratheon’s two brothers—rallied their respective lords to fully support their King in the face of the threat posed by the House Lannister usurpation.
Even Dorne, which had always sought independence, led ten thousand Dornish infantry across the Red Mountains to join the encirclement of the House Lannister forces.
Most of the military forces in Westeros had been thrown into the battlefield. The plains of the Riverlands were piled high with corpses, and blood flowed like rivers.
The battle was fierce; the waters of the Red Fork were dyed deep scarlet. Although the Westerlands army was fierce and equipped with some of the best gear, under the frantic siege of all the lords, Tywin’s political maneuvers were rendered useless.
His resistance invited the most terrifying retaliation from King Robert Baratheon. King Robert Baratheon shoved Jaime, already tortured beyond recognition and bound with ropes, onto a high platform at the front lines.
"Tywin! Look at your fine son!!" King Robert Baratheon swung his warhammer, laughing maniacally.
"Boy, you should know how to perform an execution by now!" King Robert Baratheon looked at Robb.
"Yes!" Robb wielded the greatsword Ice and brought it down through the air. The head flew off instantly, and blood sprayed meters high!
Jaime Lannister, this top-tier Kingsguard, Kingslayer, and legendary knight, met his end here!
Suffering such a heavy blow, Tywin gritted his teeth, but could only swallow his anger.
Afterward, King Robert Baratheon launched a two-year siege. He had to drag Tywin out of the Westerlands and onto the executioner’s block.
But Casterly Rock was said to be impregnable. Even with tens of thousands of troops grinding away, the enemy held the high ground, and siege warfare was notoriously difficult, so the battle dragged on for a long time.
It wasn’t until the third year that a betrayal from within finally broke the last line of defense in the Westerlands. Tywin died in the throne room, and with that, the Westerlands were pacified.
King Robert Baratheon’s reign didn’t fare much better. To maintain the provisions and pensions for the armies across the lands, the treasury—already deep in debt—became a ruin that couldn’t even feed a mouse.
The debt he borrowed from the Iron Bank, the various Free Cities, and even the Faith of the Seven had doubled, reaching a staggering eight million gold dragons!
This didn’t even include the three million owed to House Lannister that had been wiped out. Otherwise, this massive debt would have exceeded ten million gold dragons—the highest debt in history.
I’m afraid that even if King Robert Baratheon taxed his people for a hundred years, he would struggle to repay this debt in the short term.
"Mine it for me! Dig out every single gold mine in the Westerlands!" King Robert Baratheon’s eyes were red, and he roared at the Master of Coin like a madman.
The Master of Coin wiped sweat profusely from his brow. Damn it! You’re the one who owes the money, and you want me to figure out how to pay it back? What Master of Coin could balance an account of eight million?
Fortunately, House Lannister possessed countless gold mines and was incredibly wealthy. King Robert Baratheon ordered the mining and had all the gold and silver decorations in the castle melted down, re-minting several million gold dragons.
This gold flowed continuously to the other side of the Narrow Sea. In the end, it all fell into Lucas’s pocket; after all, he had already consolidated the continent of Essos, and the Iron Bank was his, so he naturally took over King Robert Baratheon’s massive payments.
Fortunately, this account didn’t turn into a bad debt. King Robert Baratheon dared not start another war at this juncture, or House Baratheon would plummet into the abyss.
Lucas grabbed a handful of gold coins and let them slip through his fingers. "Money has no meaning to me, but it can be used to arm forces without limit, and even create a standing army in the Middle Ages!"
Another few years passed. King Robert Baratheon’s reign finally caught a breath and got on track. The King had grown so thin from worry that his original handsome features had miraculously reappeared, though he looked much older than in his youth.
On the waters of Blackwater Bay, the waves were monstrous. Just when everyone thought things had settled down, a thunderous roar came from the edge of the horizon.
Warships cut through the sea, dense and thick like a black cloud, filling the entire Blackwater Bay. On the masts of thousands of warships, huge flags with the letter "V" fluttered.
Screech!!! Three terrifying dragon roars that pierced the clouds exploded in the high sky ten thousand meters up.
The dragons, hundreds of meters in length, plunged King’s Landing into darkness. They poked their lava-like heads out from the clouds; even their most ordinary breaths were enough to scorch the surrounding air.
Lucas stood with his hands behind his back on the head of one of the dragons. "Hehehe! Bring out the ladies!"