Seeing the spreading black shadow gathering on the sea, Tyrion looked up at the sky again.
Tyrion, of course, would not expect to rely on these remnants to resist the attack of House Redwyne.
The true trump card King Karl left him was still Robert, the golden dragon.
But ever since King Karl left with his troops, Tyrion had not seen that little golden dragon often.
He hadn't even seen it at all during this time.
If it weren't for occasionally hearing from fishermen and farmers that it would appear on the sea or in the forest from time to time, Tyrion would even suspect that King Karl's dragon had gone wild.
Tyrion didn't know if Robert was reliable, after all, it was just an animal, no matter how magical, it wouldn't be like a human.
So for Tyrion, most of his preparations were still focused on people.
If the dragon could truly help him, that would naturally be good.
If not, he wasn't unprepared.
He just thought of the Red Comet hanging in the sky a while ago, and the prophecy about the Long Night that King Karl told him before leaving.
Tyrion took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on the sea, his eyes becoming resolute.
"Our archers are useless, have them change weapons, and advance the entire army thirty paces!"
In the pouring rain, Tyrion quickly issued orders, and the messenger beside him immediately blew the horn to transmit the information.
Then one person ran out, rushing towards the front line.
The sudden storm and heavy rain instantly wiped out the advantage of a long-range attack that Tyrion's side could have initially launched against the enemies attacking from the sea, relying on the stability of the coastline.
And instead, they found themselves in a disadvantageous position.
But now was not the time for despair.
If they couldn't take advantage, then they wouldn't; picking up their weapons and fighting was the real truth.
As Tyrion's command was given, the archers quickly threw away their longbows and arrows, and changed to other equipment.
Long spears, short spears, sharp swords, and fast blades quickly became wet in the wind and rain the moment they were picked up.
Some experienced veterans tore off a piece of their clothing or similar, tying their hands to their weapons to secure them and prevent them from slipping easily.
Noticing their actions, the others followed suit.
For a time, everyone was making their own preparations, standing ready to face the enemies rowing their sculls and small boats towards them.
Until the fastest boat reached the shore, the soldiers of House Redwyne on board quickly leaped into the shallow sea, braving the wind and rain, treading the waves, and swarming forward with shouts.
But unfortunately, although their enemies came from the mountains and had rarely seen the sea in their lives, their daily lives were already arduous enough.
Such a rain battle would not affect them much.
Moreover, this not only cultivated their fierce character but also meant they wouldn't be intimidated by such a small scene.
So, seeing that the approaching enemies even dared to show off, several High Mountain Clan warriors who were blocking that position grinned, showing their rotten teeth.
Silently, they picked up the long spears stuck in the ground beside them.
They bent their bodies, raised their hands, and aimed.
After a few steps, they released their grip, and the long spears cut through the air and rain, flying out.
Sharp iron spikes wrapped around the end of the rough wooden shafts, a cold light dazzling and flashing past.
The aim was good; with a thud, it struck the chest of a sailor who was still shouting while treading the waves.
He had just taken a few steps in the seawater, and his shout had just come out, when it was forcefully blocked back by this long spear.
The sharp spearhead effortlessly pierced his chest, and the shaft, as thick as a child's arm, impaled him completely.
His breastbone shattered, and his heart and lungs were a pulpy mess.
The loud shouts turned into choked whimpers, his eyes widened, and a mouthful of fresh blood uncontrollably spewed out from his mouth, and the impaled sailor fell backward.
He sank into the knee-high seawater.
As a wave came and went, revealing his last unwilling gaze, this face, already filled with fear, silently sank into the sea.
Only some faint red blood, with tiny bubbles, floated up, staining the beach.
"Kill!!!"
Once the fighting began, from the first drop of blood shed, the war would only end when one side was defeated.
What's more, this was just a prelude.
Although the long-range shooting of arrows was indeed forced to be abandoned due to the arrival of the storm, this close-range throwing of long spears by hand remained unaffected.
This was a specialty of the High Mountain Clan Tribe warriors.
But this still couldn't completely repel the enemy.
Although the initial effect was good, and three or four consecutive rounds managed to curb the enemy's advance, the spears would eventually run out.
The swarming enemies could not be stopped by just a few spears.
Torrential rain, salty sea wind.
The first wave of close combat had arrived.
At this time, the soldiers on both sides were drenched by the torrential rain, which made it almost impossible to open their eyes.
But the swords and blades, still gleaming with a cold light in the rain, showed no mercy, striking the enemies without hesitation.
Screams rang out in succession, and more and more people fell to the ground.
The blood flowing on the beach and by the shore, indistinguishable under the deluge, gathered into a pool, staining a long line along the coast of Lannisport.
In the center of this line, blades flashed, and various languages of curses intermingled as they fought back and forth.
The sound of metal entering flesh was dull yet crisp, then covered by piercing screams.
Yet, even so, Tyrion Lannister, standing on a high point of the coast, did not look well.
Although their resistance seemed effective and resolute now, and coupled with the fact that the enemy was landing by boat, they had occupied an advantageous position from the very beginning of the battle.
These landing soldiers of House Redwyne had to pay at least a three-to-one price to get ashore.
Most of these bodies fell into the shallow waves.
But as one part of the coast was breached, more enemies immediately surged through this gap.
The soldiers of those nobles who had lost this position did not even think about retaking it; instead, they cowered backward in fear, fumbling and desperately trying to hide behind their comrades.
But everyone thought this way, and the only ones who benefited were their enemies.
However, such a scene was not isolated; soon, two or three similar scenes unfolded successively.
"We can't hold them, manpower, morale, and the weather are all against us! Damn it!"
With just one glance, Tyrion immediately analyzed the situation on the battlefield.
But at this point, no matter how angry he was, he was powerless.
The pouring rain itself increased the difficulty of transmitting information on the battlefield, and combined with the long coastline, it was very difficult to maintain overall control.
Moreover, people staying in such a rain curtain naturally felt a sense of fear of being isolated from the world.
Add to that the war, the surrounding fighting and screams, and the enemies they faced, one can imagine the immense psychological pressure.
"Damn it!"
Wiping the rain from his face with a raised hand, Tyrion's gaze pierced through the rain curtain, seeing the ships on the sea returning to prepare for the second wave of enemies, gradually forming a continuous stream.
Tyrion gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on his small axe. "Deploy the reserves, all of them, fight flexibly!"
The sound of the horn could no longer be transmitted, so the messenger guarding by Tyrion's side directly relayed the message in person, holding up a colored flag, turning, and galloping away on horseback.
But in the wind and rain, the colored flag could no longer flutter.
An indescribable sense of oppression gradually accumulated with the pouring rain, covering everyone's hearts.
"Even if we can't win, we must use this confrontation to exhaust their effective strength as much as possible."
After the messenger left, Tyrion stared with wide eyes, gritting his teeth, and silently thought to himself as he looked at the battle line in front of him.
He quickly analyzed the current situation.
At the same time, he also clearly understood how important this opening battle was for both sides.
And it wasn't just him; House Redwyne also understood, so now it was a test of both sides' endurance, to see who was more resolute.
It was a battle of effective strength.
Tyrion knew very well that this was their biggest disadvantage.
He also knew that House Redwyne must be aware of this.
If his current battle line were to truly collapse like this, then Lannisport would quickly be lost in this storm.
"If we can't inflict damage on House Redwyne's fleet at this point, once Lannisport is lost, we will have no chance to deal with the subsequent situation."
"The situation will only become more difficult!"
"Damn it, just give me another thousand men, damn it!"
Pondering and analyzing, Tyrion suddenly cursed aloud.
Then he glanced at the forty or so guards protecting him and the weapon in his hand, his eyes reddening.
"Damn it, let's go, we're going in too, follow me!"
With another furious shout, Tyrion understood that under the current circumstances, trying to command and control again was a pipe dream.
And now, the only thing he could do was inflict more casualties on the enemy.
So, with his furious shout, before Biden, Hoover, and the others protecting him could react, Tyrion had already grabbed his small short axe and, with his short legs, charged onto the battlefield not far in front of him.
Dwarves never lacked courage.
He possessed more than just wisdom.
Wielding his short axe, Tyrion seized an opportunity, seeing a House Redwyne soldier grappling with a High Mountain Clan warrior and falling to the ground. Tyrion went up and brought his axe down on the House Redwyne soldier's back.
The sharp blade cleaved through bone, burying itself deep into flesh and blood, instantly causing fatal damage to internal organs.
The House Redwyne soldier, who was wrestling with his opponent and about to win, only grunted, his eyes widening, his body uncontrollably twitching and stiffening, then he collapsed, losing all strength.
Below him, the High Mountain Clan warrior, whose neck was being choked and whose eyes had rolled back, came to his senses and quickly coughed a few times before gasping for air.
However, he didn't have time to see who had saved him.
And Tyrion didn't have time to receive his thanks.
Because the place he charged into was a freshly breached opening, so before he could pull his short axe out of the fallen enemy, a House Redwyne soldier in front of him, who had just stabbed his opponent in the belly and then quickly pulled out his sword to slit his opponent's throat, noticed that there was a Dwarf in front of him.
Seeing that this Dwarf had killed his comrade, he cursed, took two steps forward, raised his sword, and prepared to shorten this half-man even further.
But before he could act, a spinning short sword flew through the rain curtain and embedded itself in his chest.
The crisis of life and death made Tyrion suddenly calm down, and the redness in his eyes gradually brightened.
Watching the enemy who had almost cut him in half with a sword twitching on the ground, he also sat down on the ground, gasping for breath.
Then Biden, who had just thrown a flying sword from a distance, immediately rushed over.
He slapped the handle of the short axe that Tyrion had embedded in the enemy's back, pulled out the short axe, and handed it to Tyrion. Then he looked up, wiped the rain from his face, assessed the situation in front of him, and immediately looked down, shouting loudly to Tyrion.
"Lord Tyrion Lannister, if things are impossible, I think we should retreat to Casterly Rock. We cannot hold Lannisport; this rain came at the worst possible time!"
"If we stop now, we still have a chance to preserve our effective strength, instead of futilely expending our manpower here!"
In the pouring rain, Biden shouted loudly into Tyrion's ear. Although not every member of the Black Stone Mercenary Group was excellent, they weren't too bad either.
Many people could clearly see the current situation.
And most importantly, as Biden's words fell, most of the Westerlands nobles who had pledged allegiance to King Karl, but were actually seeking refuge, showed a tendency to retreat.
But their movement directly exposed King Karl's army, which was desperately resisting the enemy.
The originally stable defense line instantly collapsed under these gaps.
However, there were even more enemies still arriving on the sea in front of them.
Seeing Tyrion, who was suddenly facing defeat and somewhat distraught, Hoover also came forward.
"Lord Tyrion, Biden is right. These nobles are completely unreliable. With just over two thousand of us, we cannot defend Lannisport."
"Since that's the case, it's better to withdraw immediately, abandon Lannisport to preserve our effective strength. At least this will allow us to inform King Karl while we still have the strength to fight back."
"As long as King Karl knows the situation here and chooses to reinforce us, combined with the effective strength we have preserved, we can immediately drive away the enemy."
"We don't need to rush for immediate success!"
The two of them, one on each side, offered comfort, gradually bringing Tyrion back to his senses.
Seeing that the current situation, due to the arrival of heavy rain, did not align with his expectations, Tyrion, who had regained his composure under the stimulation of blood and death, also calmed down.
He looked around helplessly; the men assigned to protect him had also been thrown into the front lines of the battle.
If he didn't make a decision soon, then indeed, all the manpower currently available would be lost here due to his wrong decision.
"Opportunity is not on our side, you are right."
In the torrential rain, Tyrion said despondently, sitting on the ground.
Then he looked up at the distant House Redwyne fleet and the vast, dark mass of enemies pressing in from the nearshore.
He shook his head.
"In that case, then retreat—"
"Roar!!!"
Before Tyrion could finish giving the retreat order, a deafening roar suddenly echoed from the sky.
This sudden roar interrupted his words and made everyone on the battlefield involuntarily look up at the sky.
Because this roar was truly immense and deafening.
From the moment the roar appeared in the sky until it reached the ground, it even gave people a faint sense of tremor.
And as countless pairs of eyes looked up at the sky.
In the pouring rain, a blurry black shadow slowly descended from the sky.
People couldn't clearly see what it was, but an intuitive sense of unease assailed everyone's hearts.
Especially the fleet floating on the sea, and the small boats that had already spread across the nearshore.
Because these people discovered that the blurry figure in the sky, which seemed to glow faintly golden, was actually descending towards them.
Coupled with that deafening roar that sounded neither like thunder nor human speech.
A similar question surged into people's minds.
And their answer, besides another even more deafening roar, was a splash of vivid color added to the pale world.
Both sides on the shore, who had unknowingly stopped fighting, could clearly see a bright, crystalline yellow-white, almost golden color suddenly illuminating the rainy sea.
It was as if a striking and dazzling color had suddenly been painted onto an oil painting with a grey-white background as its canvas.
Then this dazzling color grew larger and larger, like rain pouring from the sky, spilling onto the sea, and spreading across the grey-white canvas.
Suddenly, the world seemed to turn into a silent painting.
Silence.
Quiet.
Soundless.
Grey-white and colorless.
Only that vibrant color bloomed on the sea like the sun, growing larger and larger.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)