As time passed, the island's atmosphere shifted from revelry to oppressive gloom. Until the next dawn, when the sun broke the horizon, not a single longship returned triumphant from the Sunset Sea. What had happened?! Those left behind on the Iron Islands began to stir with unrest, every family had young and strong men in the fleet! Ominous news flew about like bats. The Drowned God priests led the Ironborn to the shore, drenching themselves from head to toe with seawater and salt in prayer, and finally witnessed two or three Iron Islands fishing boats, not warships, returning to port in a panic—they brought back even worse news.Terrified survivors describe the horrific blaze on Fair Isle – a fire that burns ever brighter with water!! As if the Drowned God brought the flames from the sea!!
The Drowned God punishes the Ironborn, the Iron Fleet utterly destroyed.
This news drives the remaining Ironborn on the island, who have lost sons and brothers, into a frenzy. Why!! Would the Drowned God punish them?! Abandon them?? Priests roar that the Drowned God does indeed create a new heaven and earth with blood, fire, and song – because of impurity! The island has a Sept of the Seven! Therefore, the Drowned God warns!!
The Ironborn, begging the Drowned God for forgiveness, immediately slaughter the maesters and septon priests on the island, and burn the heretical Sept.In this bloody process, someone said that there must be a spy passing information outwards, which is why the Iron Fleet was ambushed - who could it be? All the noble houses of the Iron Islands suffered heavy losses! They believe that those captured from Lannisport are the most suspicious!! There are spies among them!
The prisoners of war were dragged out.
The furious Ironborn vented all their anger and hatred on these poor people, wielding great axes, chopping off arms and heads, and then throwing the mutilated corpses into the sea to sacrifice to the gods.
No one was spared.That year, Euron Greyjoy brought a maester to the Iron Islands, only to have him thrown alive from the gallery window by the enraged soldiers on Pyke.
On the throne in the great hall, the aging Euron listened to the screams, his expression blank—the defeat at Fair Isle had cost him all his sons and most of his grandsons, leaving only eight-year-old Asha and three-year-old Theon as the remaining Greyjoy heirs.
A violent spasm gripped his stomach, and no amount of poppy milk seemed to help. Euron, enduring the pain, ordered his daughter-in-law, Yaranise, to protect the children, then staggered alone towards the deserted halls of the Pyke's Sea Tower.He chuckled. Was this a curse? A thousand years ago, all the sons of the River King were slaughtered here, hacked to pieces. Was the doom of the Iron Islands' masters about to arrive again? Euron struggled to think—it wasn't that he couldn't imagine surrendering to the Iron Throne, but the furious Ironborn nobles were roaring for revenge everywhere, exactly like Balon's brothers had roared to restore the Old Way back then.
The green lands swam before old Greyjoy's eyes, he reached out in vain, but could never touch them—
Dawn broke again, the island reeking of blood.Having lost their entire navy, the Iron Islands remained fiercely independent. The Ironborn roared, weapons in hand, charging towards the shore – the enemy was coming! Coming!!
One hundred and eighty warships, laden with soldiers, sailed towards their destination, riding the wind and waves. The Royal Fleet launched a simultaneous all-out assault on Pyke, Old Wyk, and Great Wyk. This landing was destined to be recorded in history, later even named the Burning of the Iron Islands by those who studied it, placing it alongside Aegon the Conqueror's burning of Harrenhal.Lord Commander Viserys had given the lords and nobles simple assignments beforehand: Storm's End would attack Old Wyk, the North would be responsible for Great Wyk, and Pyke would fall under the command of himself and Kevan Lannister. In addition to carrying their own soldiers, he lent out two detachments brought from Summerhall to serve as the first wave of support for the landing ships of the other two advance teams.
The fleet, flying the three-headed dragon banner, sailed towards Pyke, at the southern end of the islands.
To seize the seat of power of the Iron Islands' king, the first barriers, the Botley castle and Lordsport, had to be destroyed.The so-called castle was made of wooden palisades, something the Prince didn't even bother to consider—however, the fleet first faced the island's enraged Ironborn—wave after wave charging the landing beaches with great axes and iron helmets!!
Viserys didn't rush to disembark his cavalry for a charge. A hundred soldiers, clad in the Summerhall's uniform and bizarre attire, named the Flame Guard, were the first to meet the enemy. Each of them carried a large ceramic jar on their back, wrapped in thick, damp animal hide, with a brass-bound wooden pipe connected to the opening—and the crucial part: a hand-operated air pump, invented by Qyburn, the Summerhall's chief science officer, at Viserys's suggestion."Wind direction confirmed, commence."
At the command, the soldiers, with standardized and practiced movements, skillfully started the air pumps. Greek fire was drawn from the pottery jars and ejected through the nozzles. Then, archers simultaneously shot fire arrows, completing the primitive flame-spray-launcher.
Brutal.
A line of fire, interwoven like a net, covered points and surfaces. Fifty meters away, a large group of fierce Ironborn were simultaneously ignited. Encountering the raging flames, even the most ferocious warriors could only instantly turn into fireballs. They were burned, charging wildly, screaming, and rolling on the ground, which ignited even more areas.
Viserys watched.The flamethrowers were methodical, and another wave of concentrated fire met each enemy charge. Gradually, the Ironborn left a field of charred corpses and retreated. They wisely saw that Port Ritchie would also be easily burned to the ground, and retreated towards the stone-built Pyke.
The Westerlands forces and the main royal army landed easily without resistance. Viserys entrusted the task of plundering the remaining areas to the Westerlands army, while he and Kevan marched straight to Pyke.
A siege?
The trebuchets and ballistae, essential for sieges in Westeros, were unloaded from the warships and transports. However, the two brought from Summerhall were of a design Kevan had never seen before.The new trebuchet, based on the principle of leverage and powered by human-powered flywheels to accumulate potential energy, is simply a next-generation product that is more labor-saving, faster, and has a longer range.
Commander Prince rested his chin in his hand, signaling the Midsummer Hall Flame Army to replace the siege rocks with fifty sealed earthenware jars bundled together, place them in the sling, and position it on the rails.
A team of four soldiers, following the same standardized procedure, launched the sling in a matter of minutes. Its arc was eerily similar to the axe-throwing activity where the Iron Islanders slaughtered prisoners – one severed limbs and caused blood to flow, while the other: Boom! Hit with precision, causing green flames to flow down the castle.Bright wildfire. The Mad King hoarded much of it, dreaming of bathing in its flames, fire with magical colors, no need to use it to blow up King's Landing, burn the Iron Islands, that's the right move.
Another volley.
Yet another.
Wherever it landed, the green flames consumed everything.
Kevan on horseback gaped, his blue eyes fixed on the ancient castle engulfed in roaring green light.
Viserys raised his chin, observing silently. It truly resembled a giant green firework – behind him, his army in full armor, watched the fortress enveloped as if by a dragon's breath, utterly silent.The same scene played out on Old Wyk and Great Wyk. The Summerhall Firebrands even used flame-throwers on their own ships to sweep away the Ironborn legions attempting to prevent their landing.
After the flames died down, Robert led three thousand Stormlands soldiers ashore with ease, their men marching on charred bone fragments, reaching the city walls without a single casualty.
The Stormlands still used old-fashioned catapults. The Summerhall troops, however, brought out fire-crossbows for support. Viserys wasn't afraid of the technology being stolen—the fire-crossbows were just crossbow-arrows with wax-sealed clay pots attached.The earthenware pot shatters wherever it lands, seeping into stone, leather, and steel. It doesn't even need to be ignited; direct sunlight can unleash a green inferno, consuming everything.
Half a day later, Robert, gazing up at the green fire engulfing Drumm Castle, suddenly said, "There's no fun in fighting like this."
Indeed, his blood hadn't even boiled, nor had he been able to swing his hammer and display his fighting prowess. Those experiencing a similar state of mind also appeared in the North, on Great Wyk: Ser Jorah Mormont of Bear Island, sword in hand, stood beside the Brandon brothers—staring blankly at the Hammerhorn battlefield, utterly devastated by wildfire.
Is that it?He asked himself inwardly.
Brandon thought to himself that he could go see Catelyn earlier. Ned lowered his head, unable to bear the sight of the struggling figures beneath the swirling green flames.
The flames passed, leaving nothing behind. No one had the chance to show courage, establish merit, and be knighted. So Jorah would likely never marry a Hightower woman in his life.
Old Wyk.
Robert, eager for a fight, simply stopped the pyromancers from burning their way through Summerhall. He didn't consider it war. Fine. Sergeant Lucifer had his men retreat, unload the wildfire, and rebury the jars in the sandboxes, and they obeyed.Oblivious in his excitement, Robert paid no heed. Unlike the Stormlands soldiers who recklessly stormed into the town's fortress, scavenging and looting amidst the ashes, the men from Summerhall were highly disciplined. They were silent, unquestioning, indifferent to plunder, and quickly returned to their ships.
The town on Pyke and the Greyjoy keep had been plowed through with Greek fire and wildfire. Kevan led vengeful Westerlands soldiers roaring across the drawbridge, killing any possible survivors, smashing and looting anything that hadn't been charred. Viserys watched, thinking that according to the original plot, this was exactly what these people would do when King's Landing fell.They killed the brother's children. So today, they will kill the Iron Islands' remaining two heirs as well—if they haven't been burned alive.
Tyrion, witnessing the atrocity of the woman being dragged out and having her throat cut, frowned. "Come on, they surrendered, enough is enough?"
Viserys shrugged, pointing to the layer of corpses below the cliff. "Those blondes, they're all Westermen, aren't they? Tyrion, a Lannister always pays his debts. You're a Lannister too, if you want to stop something, go ask your uncle Kevan. I won't ask. Because, advising others to be forgiving and generous is just asking for trouble."
Tyrion sighed and gave up pleading.They scaled the main keep of Pyke late that night. Only corpses lay everywhere. Upon the ancient Seastone Chair, a half-charred corpse remained, recognizable as old Balon Greyjoy from its remains.
Viserys had it removed. Without hesitation, he sat upon the throne, commanding his attendants to raise the Targaryen banner high above the main keep's hall at dawn!
"The Iron Islands, from this moment forth, belong to the Crownlands!" he declared. "The King strips the traitor of all titles and lands. The Greyjoys are no longer nobles."
Tyrion had expected this, but Kevan was startled.He thought they'd choose an Iron Islands noble to inherit.
"Your Grace—"
Viserys looked at him. "Do you want the Westerlands to never again be raided by the Iron Islands? That will never happen under these people's rule. It must become Crownlands. Rest assured, the King will agree. Surely the Hand won't refuse to acknowledge it?"
Kevan pondered. Lannister certainly loathed the Ironborn. But this change, he had to write to his brother and inform him of it immediately.
Viserys continued to issue orders: "The surviving residents must swear fealty to the Targaryens, or face labor re-education. The Drowned God is henceforth outlawed on the islands. All the priests—are there any left alive?""Those who disagree with defrocking and entering the labor camp will all be executed."
What is a labor camp?
Tyrion explained to his uncle that it was a place where people were locked up and made to work.
Soldiers searching the castle rooms reported that they had not found any more Greyjoys.
"Then search the entire island thoroughly. Balon has a younger son and a daughter. If they're dead, I want to see the bodies. If they're alive—" Viserys, seeing the worry in Tyrion's eyes, smiled. "Find them, and if they're alive, I'll reward you with fifty gold dragons."※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※
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...
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Here are a few fan-fic titles that I've recently uploaded on my Patreon:
"Game of Thrones: Dragon Prince"
"Game of Thrones: Political Life"
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"Game of Thrones: Ruler of the Deep Seas "
" Game of Thrones: From the Elden Lord to the Young Wolf"
"Game of Thrones The Glory of a Knight"
(End Chapter)