The Reach truly lived up to its reputation as the richest region in Westeros. As the victor, Karl naturally had every right to enjoy the spoils of war.
A large garden within Highgarden had been cleared and transformed into Robert's temporary "dragon's den."
Outside the garden walls, carts loaded with live sheep arrived one after another.
To prevent the horses from panicking at the terrifying beast inside, the shepherds unloaded the sheep well over a hundred meters away before driving them through several courtyards toward the garden.
Standing atop a white marble balcony, Karl rested his chin on one hand as he quietly watched Robert feast below.
It had been quite some time since he had last seen the young dragon.
Its growth far exceeded even his expectations.
He had assumed Robert's rapid growth would slow after the early stages of life, but the dragon had surprised him once again.
"Your Majesty..."
Ser Arys Oakheart stared at the enormous creature below in disbelief.
"Is... is that really Robert?"
Having served Karl since his coronation in King's Landing, Arys was naturally familiar with the dragon.
Yet the creature before him seemed completely different from the dragon that had rained death across the battlefield.
Its size alone was astonishing.
Curled within the garden, Robert nearly filled the entire enclosure from head to tail.
If he stood upright, even without spreading his wings, he would tower over the nearby sheepfold.
When they had departed Casterly Rock, Robert had been no larger than a sturdy ox.
Now...
He had become a true monster of war.
The dragons described in old Targaryen histories supposedly required decades to reach maturity.
Robert had achieved such terrifying growth in only a few months.
Karl smiled.
"If it weren't for him..."
"You wouldn't be standing here so comfortably."
"You'd probably still be running for your life."
The joke drew a smile from Arys.
Karl pushed himself away from the stone railing and turned toward him.
"How is the battlefield cleanup progressing?"
Arys immediately became serious.
"The work is underway, Your Majesty."
"But the number of prisoners and casualties is enormous."
"My mother estimates it'll take another three or four days before everything is sorted."
Karl nodded thoughtfully.
"Leave the ordinary soldiers for now."
"Identify the knights and nobles first."
"Gather the common soldiers together as efficiently as possible."
"As for the nobles..."
"Judge their crimes individually."
"If their offenses aren't serious, notify their families."
"They may ransom them back."
"And don't forget to include generous war reparations."
"Make sure the price is painful."
"If their crimes are more serious..."
"Keep them imprisoned."
"We'll decide their fate later."
He paused before continuing.
"Let Lady Ewyn Oakheart oversee the entire process."
"If she needs assistance, Lord Randyll Tarly can help her."
"And tell your mother..."
"When this matter is settled..."
"I will restore House Oakheart's honor."
Emotion immediately appeared on Arys' face.
"Thank you, Your Majesty."
Although he now served as a Kingsguard, his family's honor still meant everything to him.
Karl placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"There's no need to thank me."
"House Oakheart has proven its loyalty throughout this campaign."
"You've earned this reward."
The two continued walking through Highgarden in silence.
After a while, Karl suddenly asked,
"What do you think?"
"Will Randyll Tarly be as loyal to me as House Oakheart?"
The unexpected question caught Arys off guard.
After a brief hesitation, he answered honestly.
"I don't know, Your Majesty."
"But if you wish..."
"I can verify his loyalty."
Karl burst into laughter.
"I didn't expect that answer."
He shook his head.
"There's no need."
"Jon Snow has already answered that question for me."
"After all..."
"More than half of yesterday's battle plan came from Randyll's own suggestions."
Realization dawned on Arys.
Only then did he understand that yesterday's meeting had been more than simple military planning.
It had also been a test.
Looking at Karl's broad back, Arys subconsciously lowered his head.
The young king had yet to reach twenty years of age...
Yet his presence already resembled an unfathomable abyss.
They spoke no further until they arrived at Robert's enclosure.
Karl stopped.
"You may leave now."
"I don't need you here."
"Go find Jon Snow."
"Have him assemble a cavalry regiment of three thousand riders."
"That force will belong to you from now on."
Arys froze.
"Your Majesty..."
"I'm a Kingsguard."
"My duty is to remain by your side."
Karl simply shook his head.
"I don't need more guards."
"I need capable commanders."
"You have one month."
"Learn your cavalry."
"Coordinate with the rest of the army."
"When matters here are settled..."
"You'll lead them to garrison the Dornish Marches."
"And if necessary..."
"You may even travel to Sunspear as my representative."
Karl left no room for discussion.
Although surprised, Arys could only bow.
"As you command, Your Majesty."
"And send Ser Garlan Tyrell to me."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
After Arys departed, Karl turned his attention toward the enormous dragon.
A smile spread across his face.
"Eat well."
"Grow faster."
Hearing Karl's voice, Robert lifted his massive head happily.
Servants had already prepared a feast worthy of a dragon.
Crocodiles.
Wild boars.
Bears.
Several corpses of green-skinned, pointy-eared creatures.
Most importantly...
A massive basin filled with the faintly glowing blue liquid Robert loved.
The dragon let out a joyful roar.
With practiced precision, he unleashed a stream of dragonfire over the pile of carcasses.
Karl stood only a few steps away.
The flames washed over him.
Yet he didn't even flinch.
Instead, he calmly reached into the fire to test its temperature.
Neither his body...
Nor his clothes...
Suffered the slightest damage.
The emerald brocade robe he wore had been specially crafted using fragments of dragon eggshell gathered from the volcanic region of the game world.
From now on, that tailor would make every piece of clothing he wore.
Once Robert had been fed, Karl ordered the garden sealed.
"No one approaches Robert without my permission."
Soon afterward, Garlan Tyrell arrived.
Karl spoke with him at length about House Tyrell's future.
Garlan had expected this conversation.
Karl eventually announced his decision.
"For your timely surrender..."
"And for Margaery's sake..."
"I will spare Lord Mace Tyrell and your brother, Willas."
"However..."
"House Tyrell will lose Highgarden."
"It will lose the titles of Lord Paramount of the Reach, Warden of the South, Warden of the Marches, High Marshal of the Reach..."
"And all associated privileges."
With a single defeat...
One of the greatest houses in Westeros had lost nearly everything.
Garlan clenched his fists before finally asking,
"Your Majesty..."
"Will my sister Margaery bear your child?"
Fear filled his eyes.
But so did hope.
Karl understood exactly what he was asking.
This wasn't merely a question about Margaery.
It was a question about House Tyrell's future.
He already knew how Olenna had attempted to deceive him when Robert descended upon Highgarden.
Silence stretched across the room.
Karl slowly tapped the armrest of his chair.
The sound echoed heavily.
Sweat formed upon Garlan's forehead.
Finally...
Karl spoke.
"If your loyalty proves genuine..."
"And not another deception..."
"Margaery will bear my child."
"And that child..."
"Will one day inherit and rule the Reach."
Garlan swallowed hard.
He understood perfectly what Karl meant.
Dropping to one knee, he bowed deeply.
"Thank you for your mercy, Your Majesty."
Karl nodded.
"Now go."
"Like Arys..."
"Find Jon Snow."
"He'll assign you command of a cavalry regiment."
"I expect great things from you."
Following the battle, the Reach entered a period of rapid reorganization.
One week passed.
During that time, Jon Snow and the others worked tirelessly to clean the battlefield, organize prisoners, and restore order.
Eventually, only the final arrangements remained.
---
Highgarden – Great Hall
Karl sat at the head of the long table.
Jon Snow, Randyll Tarly, Sandor Clegane, Ser Arys Oakheart, Lady Ewyn Oakheart, Ser Balon Swann, Bronn, and many others occupied the seats below.
Even Highgarden's former maester, Lomys, attended the meeting.
Behind Karl stood Garlan Tyrell, quietly serving wine.
Breaking the silence, Karl looked toward Randyll Tarly.
"Lord Randyll."
"I trust you've reached your decision."
Every eye turned toward the famous commander.
After a long sigh...
Randyll rose.
He walked before Karl and knelt.
"Your Majesty..."
"King Karl Baratheon..."
"House Tarly of Horn Hill pledges its loyalty to the Iron Throne."
Karl smiled.
With a gesture, Garlan retrieved a greatsword resting nearby.
Karl accepted it.
"This..."
"...is Heartsbane."
"The ancestral Valyrian steel sword of House Tarly."
"I now return it to its rightful owner."
Holding the legendary blade before Randyll, Karl waited.
Randyll stared at the weapon.
His expression shifted repeatedly.
His hand twitched.
Yet...
He withdrew it.
"No."
"It became your rightful prize on the battlefield."
"It is your honor now."
Karl considered him quietly.
Then...
He lowered the sword.
"You lost it honorably."
"And one day..."
"You may win it back honorably."
Without waiting for a response, Karl turned toward everyone gathered around the table.
His voice rang throughout the hall.
"I'm going to Oldtown."
He paused briefly before smiling.
"Yes..."
"I'm riding the dragon."
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)