Chapter 390: Lys Council System

Soon, hundreds of elite cavalrymen thundered down the road, hooves pounding the earth as they raised the banner of the Stag. Trebor Jordayne's eyes gleamed with murderous intent as he raised his arm, signaling his men to hold. He waited for the dragon to appear.

This invasion of the Stormlands had mobilized over 20,000 soldiers. Their strategy was divided into two main objectives: attacking Stonehelm to capture the strategic base and harassing Crow's Nest and Griffin's Roost to intercept reinforcements from Storm’s End.

Trebor had dispatched teams to ransack mills and villages in the territories of the two castles and had encountered an attack by the dragon riders of House Velaryon, resulting in the loss of hundreds of soldiers.

"Roar......"

A roar echoed from the sky as the shadow of a light silver dragon, Seasmoke, flashed overhead.

"Ready!" Burt's eyes widened, fixated on the dragon above.

Seasmoke wasn't flying very high, its vertical pupils scanning the surroundings. The dense forest below provided perfect cover for the Dornish soldiers.

Click...

The crossbowman's heart raced as he maneuvered his scorpion crossbow to aim at the dragon, his fingers slick with sweat. Dragons were symbols of power and conquest, and during the time of the Conquerors, Dorne had famously shot down a giant dragon to repel the Targaryen invasion. freeweɓnøvel.com

"Roar......"

Seasmoke abruptly changed course, veering off into the distance.

Trebor 's face darkened with impatience. "On my command, shoot!"

Shooting the dragon would secure his place in history. With his command, two thousand crossbowmen released their bowstrings, sending a rain of arrows skyward. The scorpion crossbows fired simultaneously, targeting the light silver dragon.

The Storm Knights' march slowed as arrows clattered against their armor. A few unfortunate soldiers had their warhorses shot out from under them, their cries silenced as they were trampled by the advancing cavalry.

"Ambush! Raise your shields!" the knight captain bellowed, lifting his half-man-high oak shield to fend off the arrows.

The Storm Knights, elite among the elite, quickly adjusted their formation, forming an impenetrable shield wall.

"Roar......"

In midair, Seasmoke shrieked and deftly dodged the elite steel spears. Though its young dragon scales couldn't withstand the scorpion crossbows, its smaller size and agility allowed it to evade the shots.

Laenor Velaryon, mounted on Seasmoke, twisted his head in surprise, scanning the forest where the crossbow shots had originated. The surrounding area was open for miles, with a spacious main road clear of obstructions. Only on the east side did the jungle grow thick, its lush shrubbery providing cover.

In the forest, Trebor Jordayne stomped the ground in frustration, grabbed a scorpion crossbow, and shouted indignantly, "Crossbowmen, cover! Infantry, surround the Storm Knights!"

"Yes, Ser!"

The crossbowmen took cover behind trees, providing remote suppression, while three thousand spear-wielding infantry charged forward. Burt aimed the scorpion crossbow with determination, muttering, "Watch me shoot you out of the sky!"

Ka-da!

The steel spear shot out like a commanding arrow, and the Dornish soldiers swarmed from the forest, synchronizing with the rain of arrows.

Seasmoke roared angrily, hovering higher to dodge the steel spears. The battle seemed to be at a stalemate, with neither side gaining a clear advantage.

"Roar!"

A sharp roar echoed through the dense forest, startling the birds into flight.

An ugly dragon with a mottled, brown appearance and ragged wings swooped down.

"Dracarys!" shouted the young rider, a broad smile spreading across his face.

In an instant, Dragonfire fell from the sky like a torrent of molten mud, tearing through the forest canopy.

Trebor looked up in panic at the sound, only to see a torrent of brown flames descending upon him.

Boom...

The Dragonfire hit like a stone, instantly crushing the man's head, and then the flames, reeking of earth, enveloped his body.

The crossbowman next to him was also consumed by the inferno.

"Haha!" Aemond cheered, crouching on the dragon's back and shouting, "More fire!"

"Roar..." Sheepstealer's vertical pupils gleamed with pride as it swooped lower, spewing wide arcs of Dragonfire.

"Aemond, watch out for the scorpion crossbows!" Laenor called out from afar, directing Seasmoke to attack the Dornish infantry emerging from the forest.

"Don't worry, Sheepstealer will protect me!" Aemond shouted back, exhilarated.

Sheepstealer roared, its thick scales deflecting the steel-tipped arrows. It glided low, targeting the threatening scorpion crossbows with precision bursts of Dragonfire.

After two swift passes, all five scorpion crossbows lay in ruins.

"Run, we can't hold against two dragons!"

"Head for the Rainwood!"

Without their general, the Dornish soldiers scattered like sand in the wind.

It wasn't their fault; they were simply outmatched.

As the vanguard emerged from the forest, Seasmoke's Dragonfire cut through their ranks, leaving them in disarray.

The Storm Knights charged, cutting down the panicked soldiers with ease.

"Roar..." Sheepstealer reveled in the chaos, igniting the forest with abandon, the smoke billowing for miles.

The Dornish soldiers hiding in the forest were routed, fleeing in terror.

The scene was one of utter devastation, with an ugly, fearsome dragon setting the forest ablaze.

...

The battle raged for a long time, and the sky began to darken.

"Clean up the battlefield, don't leave any survivors!"

The forest was ablaze, and the hillside and main road were strewn with charred remains. The banner of the Sunspear, symbolizing House Martell, lay in the mud and dirt, burnt and tattered.

Royce Caron led hundreds of Storm Knights, patrolling on horseback and driving their lances into the chests of the corpses one by one.

"Roar..."

Sheepstealer flew over the smoke-filled forest and arrogantly landed in front of the cavalry line. On the dragon's back, Aemond was filled with excitement, his forehead glistening with sweat.

Seasmoke circled twice before carrying Laenor to a smooth descent. Laenor removed his helmet and, with a note of exhilaration, said, "We've repelled the ambush. It's time to mobilize a large army and march to the besieged Stonehelm."

The Dornish harassment of Crow's Nest and Griffin's Roost Castle had already reached Storm’s End. With no fortress between the two castles, the Dornish were sure to ambush the paths through the adjoining forest.

Lord Caron himself had planned and executed this counter-attack to annihilate the Dornish.

Lord Caron, riding his horse, murmured, "These soldiers are only half of the force blocking the attack. Let's first clear the main road between Crow's Nest Castle and Stonehelm."

It took time to mobilize troops. Storm’s End Castle had temporarily conscripted thousands of soldiers and armed them. A premature attack would likely result in heavy losses.

Aemond nodded in agreement and reported, "Sheepstealer burned many, but more escaped into the forest."

These fleeing, disorganized troops would likely regroup into small guerrilla bands. When fighting the Dornish, one should never underestimate such stragglers; otherwise, they would suffer great losses.

Lord Caron hesitated for a moment before making his judgment. "Then let's head to Crow's Nest to station ourselves and wait for the follow-up troops to arrive."

Stonehelm was a fortified city and could likely withstand the attack.

Laenor nodded, agreeing with the plan. "Good idea. I'll ride Seasmoke daily to help patrol."

Aemond agreed heartily, but when Stonehelm was mentioned, a flash of obscurity crossed his eyes.

...

Late at night in Lys.

In the courtyard of the Magister's mansion, a pitch-black dragon lay sprawled, its towering spine reaching the height of an attic. Under the moonlight, its green vertical pupils quietly opened as a scarlet dragon flew in from the night sky, landing swiftly on the other side of the courtyard.

The attic of the Magister's residence was brightly lit, and a dense crowd of people could be seen. Several bonfires illuminated the open-air platform. Rhaegar covered his forehead with his hand and leaned back in a golden chair. In front of him, Sea Snake and Tesrio of Valantis stood on either side.

Bang...

The rooftop door was pushed open, followed by Rhaenys' voice:

"Rhaegar, I received the news and rushed here overnight."

Rhaenys looked grave as she hurriedly walked over.

"Aunt, you're here." Rhaegar put down his hand and managed a stiff smile.

Daemon had captured Tyrosh, marking the end of the Narrow Sea War. Though the three city-states had not yet been fully taken, actual control was already in the hands of the Targaryens. The three city-states that roamed the disputed lands have been utterly destroyed!

Rhaenys swept her eyes over the people present and said with relief, "I went to Tyrosh first to check on Laena's condition. It's good to see she's all right, bless the Sevens."

As soon as Rhaegar returned to Lys, he brought news of Daemon's capture of Tyrosh to King's Landing and Myr. The Triarchy was shattered, and the task of rebuilding and reestablishing order was a daunting one.

Sea Snake Corlys's face tightened as he asked, "Daemon attacked the city privately. What is the situation in Tyrosh?"

He and Daemon were allies, committed to plundering the Triarchy. Now, with Daemon disobeying the king's order and attacking the city behind his back, Corlys felt offended and threatened.

Rhaenys looked at her nephew and said solemnly, "Tyrosh is still in the midst of the war. Daemon is leading an army to suppress it, so it will take a few more days."

"Selfish bastard." Sea Snake cursed under his breath. Everyone knew that Daemon would never stop once he entered the city-state.

Rhaegar waved his hand and interrupted, "Gentlemen, with the fall of Tyrosh, the Triarchy and the Disputed Lands are all in our control. We should first discuss maintaining the shipping lanes and resuming trade."

At the beginning of the Narrow Sea War, the main factor was the captured Morghul. Now that Morghul was dead, the only goal left was to destroy the Triarchy. With the Triarchy broken and the three city-states in hand, there was an urgent need for talents to manage them.

He always kept one thing in mind: The Iron Throne had conquered the Triarchy, and the Targaryen bloodline had set foot on the continent of Essos.

"Prince, I think it would be more valuable to negotiate the rewards first."

Tesrio's voice was gruff, and his eyes were shrewd.

The Sea Snake's eyes were deep as he proposed, "Daemon has overrun Tyrosh. This matter should be reported to His Grace, and he should be brought into the Small Council to discuss it together."

Rhaegar didn't even bother to raise his eyelids and said indifferently, "Daemon's issue will be discussed afterward. Tonight, we'll only talk about these two points."

He understood the intentions of the two men—they wanted to divide the benefits. The chaos in Myr had not yet subsided, Lys was in a state of disarray, and the war in Tyrosh was raging. Before the Targaryens grasped the initiative of the three city-states, these vultures wanted a piece of the pie?

Rhaegar had only one response, "Impossible!"

"Prince..."

The Sea Snake was clearly reluctant, desperately wanting a share of the benefits.

"Roar..."

A shrill roar pierced the night sky, accompanied by a flash of gray fire.

The crowd looked up.

Tyraxes hovered in mid-air before landing shakily on Rhaegar's shoulder, his vertical pupils blazing as he chirped at the gathered people.

The Sea Snake froze, inexplicably taking a step back.

Tesrio's face tightened, his left hand gripping the scimitar behind his back.

Rhaegar stroked Tyraxes's head and smiled. "Don't be nervous. The little guy is just a bit unruly."

He glanced over at the two men, leaving it unclear whether he was referring to the young dragon or to them.

"Ga..."

Tyraxes obediently crouched down, his large muzzle making a comfortable cooing sound, as if to express its obedience.

Rhaenys looked on naturally and complimented, "This is the young dragon hatched from Morghul's dragon egg. It truly is a unique breed."

"It will further the family's dragons bloodline."

Rhaegar spread a smile, greeted Johanna, and said with a straight face, "The three city-states are in more than just chaos, so I have decided to use Lys as a model and implement the Lys Council System."

Johanna walked over gracefully and handed several sample drawings to the group.

Rhaegar continued, "The Triarchy used to have an electoral system, which is at odds with the system in Westeros. I plan to create the position of Prince, with two or more councilors under him, adopting a council with one leader and many subordinates."

Rhaenys looked carefully at the drawings and wondered, "Is this a imitation of the Iron Throne with the Council under a Prince?"

"Not exactly. The councilors have more power than the royal advisors."

Rhaegar replied casually, glancing over at the Sea Snake and Tesrio.

The Sea Snake didn't notice and examined the program carefully, gradually frowning.

As a veteran politician, he could see at once that the "Council" was unusual.

One leader refers to the Prince, or the Targaryen lineage.

Multiple councilors mean that power is shared, which governs the authority of the Prince.

Parliamentary systems have existed since ancient times, most notably in the Freehold Empire of Ancient Valyria.

Led by the forty Dragonlord families, all the freeholders in the empire voted to form a large parliamentary group.

The multiple governors' councils of Myr were also based on the council system.

Such councils have always decentralized power.

The Council System, however, places a Prince of greater power above its members.

Ensuring the continuation of the rule of the Targaryen bloodline.

The Sea Snake read from the beginning to the end and raised his head to ask, "Prince, do you intend to implement this system in Myr and Tyrosh as well?"

As he said this, he unconsciously glanced at his wife, a glint of calculation in his eyes.

"No!" Rhaegar denied outright. "It will only exist in Lys."

Of the three free trade city-states, Tyrosh essentially belonged to Daemon, and he wouldn't just intervene.

Myr was a valuable land city-state that he intended to make into a complete and utter colony, fully incorporated into the royal jurisdiction.

Lys was a multi-elemental city-state with a bright future for development.

It was only because of the prying eyes of the Velaryon House, Pentos, and Volantis's tripartite allies that he thought of the Lys Council System.

With the legacy of the Targaryen bloodline, the rights of the councilors of the three parties would be divided to share the profits and bear the burdens of the city-state.

Though the prince was in danger of being overthrown, this only underscored the importance of having the Iron Throne at his back, in case the offspring inherited the city-state and turned their faces toward attacking the Iron Throne.

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