In the early morning, Rhaegar looked at himself in the glass mirror within his military tent.
The spring breeze takes pity on my intentions, granting me youth once again.
After all, his fifteenth year was the best time of his life.
Rhaegar looked at his reflection and was very satisfied; originally a melancholic version of a Westeros succubus, he was now a sunny, cheerful, magically enhanced version.
In terms of appearance, he had silver hair and purple eyes, sword-like eyebrows and star-like eyes; his short, fine hair made him look full of energy, and his purple eyes were always filled with confidence and the will to win.
In terms of physique, his body was tall and lithe, with perfectly coordinated muscle contours, as if he were a piece of steel forged through a thousand hammer blows.
Rhaegar felt the same trait that all great emperors of humanity possessed: vitality, an energy and fervor that exceeded that of ordinary people.
"Everyone loves their own country, even if they say otherwise!" Rhaegar smiled, preparing to meet new challenges.
Rhaegar put on his coat and black leather boots, and equipped his longsword.
Rhaegar drew Orphan-Maker; the black blade still bore the typical texture of Valyrian steel, sharp and unstoppable.
Rhaegar looked at Orphan-Maker. "I am like the longsword, and the longsword is like me. Just like a longsword, a person needs constant honing to remain sharp forever!"
It was far from time to rest or slack off; the Others, the Drowned God, and the Faceless Men—these potential enemies surrounding him made it impossible for him to sleep peacefully.
Rhaegar walked out of the tent. The early morning chill was significant, and he first inspected the barracks.
The barracks were right next to Gods Eye Lake, where one could see the towering Harrenhal and the blue, crystal-clear waters of Gods Eye Lake.
The banner of the black dragon on a silver field fluttered in the cold wind, and the patrolling royal escort soldiers had already begun their shift change, all wearing black overcoats.
"Stationing the main camp at Harrenhal is excellent. Whether it is heading north to support House Stark, resisting Braavos in the east, or if the Ironborn decide to commit suicide by attacking, we can quickly gather troops to provide reinforcements!"
Rhaegar was very satisfied with the location of the Harrenhal camp. The strategy of the kings of the Iron Islands and the Trident, House Hoare, regarding their kingdom of the Riverlands and the Iron Islands was well-considered; it was close to two seas and major thoroughfares, and even had the large lake needed for development.
But it was all for someone else's benefit.
The current role of the Harrenhal camp was as a military logistics base and a hub for clearing the Kingsroad.
In the later stages, he might have to face the Others and Braavos.
Transporting food and supplies to the north was also necessary; since the people of the North do not forget, whether it be gratitude or money, they would have to repay him one way or another.
Rhaegar greeted the soldiers in black coats and then took a stroll around the military camp.
Until Ser Barristan found him in a hurry; it seemed that the raven had brought some very important news!
"It is a letter from Lord Rickard and Maester Aemon!" Ser Barristan said.
"The wildlings are now preparing for a large-scale invasion! They set up camp a few days ago not far from Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. The garrison at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea is too small to sally out, and Lord Rickard and the Night's Watch are requesting reinforcements from you!"
Ser Barristan handed the distress letter from the North to Rhaegar. "The wildlings have already surrounded the gates of Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. They haven't attacked yet, but at least fifty thousand wildlings have gathered—it is terrifying!"
"What must come will come!" Rhaegar read the long letter. The wildlings could no longer hold out against the Others, so they were surely here seeking sanctuary.
The wildlings had attacked on multiple fronts this year, and no one expected the main point of attack to be at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea.
The wildling army had already gathered not far from Eastwatch-by-the-Sea; it seemed a new King-Beyond-the-Wall had appeared. With the situation as it was, the wildlings would naturally coalesce.
But surrounding without attacking suggested that the wildlings were still hoping not to burn all bridges.
Now that the Night King had awakened early, the Others were becoming active.
This was the rhythm of history: winter had arrived, the Others had awakened, and the wildlings were preparing to flee south of the Wall.
But how to arrange for these hundred thousand or so wildlings was a troublesome matter.
If Rhaegar did not bring these hundred thousand-plus people south of the Wall, then if they were left to wander Beyond the Wall, they would only turn into wights.
Rhaegar thought of a fairly decent method, though it was a bit devious: to use ships to transport these people across the Narrow Sea and send them to a wealthy nation like Braavos.
He wanted to export some refugees to city-states like Braavos, though he didn't know if it would work well.
After thinking about it, he decided against it; human resources were valuable, and the wildlings might not be willing to flee across the Narrow Sea.
"Time is very pressing, Ser!" Rhaegar said to Barristan, then began to assign commanders.
"I will head to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea first to rendezvous with the Night's Watch and the lords of the North! You take a thousand soldiers and come by sea; Davos will lead the way. Traveling by land is too slow, there is no time. As for the subsequent royal escort soldiers, have Lord Whent start recruiting locally!"
"As you command, Prince!" Ser Barristan accepted the order.
"One more thing: send a letter to the Small Council in King's Landing, especially to the Master of Laws. Those grain merchants in the King's Landing markets who are hoarding and gouging prices—those who should be killed, kill them; those who should be exiled, exile them. Now is not the time to be soft-hearted!"
Profiteering from a national crisis and targeting Rhaegar was truly courting death.
"Yes!" Ser Barristan acknowledged the order.
"But we are only taking over a thousand knights; is that not too few? The wildlings have practically mobilized their entire nation this time." Ser Barristan was somewhat puzzled.
"We are going to subdue the wildlings, not to slaughter them. The wildlings have the intention to surrender, otherwise, Eastwatch-by-the-Sea would already be a dead city! Also, Ser Barristan, remember to bring some of our black cotton coats to ward off the wind and cold. If there aren't any very thick ones, regular ones will do." After giving his instructions, Rhaegar summoned his silver dragon and took off.
The inertia of history would certainly be the Night's Watch and the wildlings slaughtering each other, but the situation had changed drastically, so coordination was necessary.
In extreme cases, there were examples of cooperation, such as the King in the North and the wildlings attacking the Night's Watch Lord Commander, the Night King, together.
The silver dragon soared through the sky, its dragonfire cutting through the cold wind. The dragons were like flowing flames, heading straight for Eastwatch-by-the-Sea.
They arrived at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. The low castle, like all Night's Watch castles, was not spectacular, and it only blocked enemies from the side of the Wall.
The massive screeching of the silver dragon and the thunderous sound of its leathery wings flapping made everyone look up.
The silver dragon soared in the sky, its screech shaking the heavens. Rhaegar rode the Silver Emperor, with the other two dragons flying on either side.
The Night's Watch and the North could no longer hold out.
Rhaegar noticed a hawk circling in the sky, observing above Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. It seemed to be a skinchanger's hawk.
"A dragon!" "It's Prince Rhaegar!" The members of the Night's Watch cheered.
After circling, the silver dragon landed at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. Rhaegar saw the fluttering grey direwolf banner; the reinforcements from House Stark had also arrived.
"Where is Lord Stark?" Rhaegar asked. There were not many people left in the camp; the rest had almost all gone up to the Wall. Those who remained were there to organize the transport of supplies.
"Reporting to the Prince, Lord Stark is already atop the Wall!" Rhaegar did not ask further; the silver dragon spread its wings, and he flew directly above the Wall.
"Prince Rhaegar!" "Prince!" The commander of the Night's Watch and the group led by Rickard all appeared before him.
The Night's Watch and the lords of the North were overjoyed; a great battle was imminent, and with the arrival of the air force, the chances of victory were greatly increased.
"What a collection of oddities!" Rhaegar waved his hand, looking down at the wildling army below.
Below, not far from Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, wildlings from all over the world had gathered: cavalry and giants, wargs and skinchangers, barbarians from the mountains, sailors from the Shivering Sea, cannibal tribes from the Great Glacier, cave dwellers with faces painted in various colors, dog-drawn chariots from the Frozen Shore, and the hard-footed people with soles like boiled leather... All these strangely shaped wildlings had been gathered to prepare for an attack on the Wall.
"Who is the leader of the wildlings? To actually be able to gather a bunch of scattered barbarians together!" Rhaegar said, looking at the vast army.
In the history of the wildlings, a King-Beyond-the-Wall had appeared a few times, and each time they were able to incite a large-scale armed invasion.
But one of such a large scale was truly rare. In the past, it might have been raiders crossing the Wall, but this time, it was the entire nation pouring out.
"Mance Rayder the bard, a newly risen King-Beyond-the-Wall. This man is silver-tongued, which is why he gathered so many wildlings to storm the Wall!" Rickard replied to Rhaegar.
He was deeply worried; even if they retreated this time, the organized wildlings could completely launch a larger-scale invasion! The Night's Watch only had over a thousand men, which was completely exhausting to deal with. His grandfather had died in a wildling invasion!
"It is not that Mance Rayder's ability is so strong; it is that the Others are coming! Lord!" Mance Rayder was now like a pig in the wind; he was riding the momentum, not truly capable of absolute command.
"I will go meet them!" Rhaegar rode the silver dragon and dove directly from the Wall, flying toward the bewildered wildlings.
"A dragon!" "The Dragonlord is here!" The wildlings let out wild roars and began to panic. Mammoths and giants were indeed invincible, but he had the silver dragon.
In the center of the wildling formation were mammoths; there were over a hundred mammoths with giants riding on their backs, holding clubs, great hammers, or giant stone axes.
On both sides of the giants, following like a wave, were cavalry wearing boiled leather armor and holding spears hardened by fire, large groups of archers, and tens of thousands of infantry wielding spears, slings, clubs, and leather shields.
Bone chariots from the Frozen Shore advanced on the flanks with a "clattering" sound, pulled by fierce large white dogs.
The silver dragon roared, and all things fell silent. The shrill of bagpipes, the barking of wild dogs, the fury of mammoths, the roars of giants, and the whistling and shouting of the free folk wildlings were all suppressed.
"King-Beyond-the-Wall, come out! King-Beyond-the-Wall, come out!" Rhaegar swept over the wildling army from a high vantage point; the screech of the silver dragon was so terrifying that a thunderclap suddenly exploded in the sky.
The mammoths began to roar incessantly, uneasy in their steps; this was the might of the dragon.
In terms of numbers, the wildlings were indeed still quite terrifying, but their troops had no armor and could not cross the Wall, so they could only be considered an enemy that would fall in one blow.
However, Rhaegar was curious: the North was freezing cold, how could they support this group of people? Could there be an ice-free port or a geothermal area?
A grey-haired, thin man riding a horse appeared before Rhaegar; he looked strong, his muscles full of power, but in those black eyes, there was also the fire of strategy, planning, and ambition.
"Are you the King-Beyond-the-Wall?" Rhaegar asked him.
Mance Rayder smiled. "I'm afraid now it's more like a homeless dog. My predecessors—Redbeard, the Horned King, the Bard—they went south for conquest, to sweep across the Seven Kingdoms. But I am different; I need the Wall, I need to escape the Others!" There was a hint of helplessness in his tone.
"You are not bad. If you had slaughtered Eastwatch-by-the-Sea just now, I fear there would be no need for peace talks!" Rhaegar said. Those who know the times are wise; this King-Beyond-the-Wall at least had a flexible mind.
"I am not as savage as you imagine; I have even snuck into the North before!" Mance Rayder said. "I am not an idiot; provoking House Stark is just that. In history, we have killed several Lords of Stark. But we don't want to provoke the Dragonlords anymore; the Dragonlords fly back and forth."
"The horn of winter, have you found it?" Rhaegar asked; this was something he was more concerned about.
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