In 269 AC, the weather was cooperative; it was clear and calm when the tourney began, making it perfect for the contests.
On Rhaenys's Hill, the Dragonpit had been arranged as the venue for the contests and viewing, and tens of thousands of common folk poured into it.
The Dragonpit was tall and imposing. After the dome was removed, it now resembled an arena. The stone benches originally planned beneath the dome could accommodate at least eight thousand people, but now the dome was gone, the benches vanished, and the Dragonpit was packed full.
Rhaegar couldn't help but sigh. As a port city, a commercial hub, and the political center of Westeros, King's Landing was still dominated by those seeking entertainment and excitement. Rhaegar had never seen so many people.
In The North and Dorne, due to the smaller populations, the people weren't particularly enthusiastic about knightly culture.
Three magical dragons circled in the air above the Dragonpit, and Rhaegar smiled and waved to the crowd.
"This tourney is surely the most brilliant chapter in a hundred years of tournaments! Our Silver Prince first leads his three dragons—the Silver Dragon Silver Emperor, the Black Dragon Balerion, and the Purple Dragon Vhagar—to present this gift to you!" the Master of Ceremonies shouted loudly, followed by the sound of trumpets and horns.
Rhaegar rode a black steed, raising the black-and-red dragon banner of the Targaryen Family, and rode three laps around the Dragonpit arena.
The name Balerion reminded everyone present of the Black Dread, representing slaughter, death, and fire.
The three magical dragons moved with their master's figure, flying around the arena with Rhaegar, occasionally spitting out flames.
The Silver Dragon was proud like an emperor, its golden eyes showing arrogance, conceit, and wildness. Its shining silver scales, golden horns, and pale gold wing membranes gave it inherent majesty and nobility.
The Silver Dragon flew, leading the other two young dragons. The Black Dragon was profound like the eternal night, and the Purple Dragon was magnificent like crystal. Everyone had to admit that these three were the most beautiful dragons in the world, and once they grew up, they would become terrifying behemoths.
Both the Eastern and Western Continents still remembered the history of great dragons rising with the wind and ravaging battlefields.
Everyone saw the Lords, great and small, of Westeros, and the envoys from the Free Cities. Looking at the three magnificent young dragons, their eyes revealed various emotions: terror, envy, jealousy, disgust, or greed.
Originally, this ceremony should have involved Rhaegar riding a great dragon and flying three circles around the Dragonpit, but since the dragons were small, it was changed to riding three laps around the arena.
But even so, seeing magical dragons again after more than a hundred years sparked endless cheers.
"Long live King's Landing!"
"Long live the Targaryens! Long live King Jaehaerys!"
"Long live the Silver Prince!"
"Long live Lucky Rhaegar!" the crowds shouted loudly.
The entire Dragonpit had turned into an ocean of cheers.
The sense of satisfaction brought by the appearance of the magical dragons was unparalleled.
The tourney was not only for knights to show off their prowess but also served as entertainment for the populace, similar to an arena performance, meant to appease the people. A king who fails to ensure his people feel joy is destined to be criticized.
Rhaegar saw that one area at the core of the Dragonpit was requisitioned for a military camp, another area was reserved for the King and the Lords to view the proceedings, and the central area was the tourney ground.
The Gold Cloaks and the household guards of many Lords marked out lines and positions on the ground to prevent trampling caused by the massive crowd.
Camping was forbidden in the Dragonpit, so over a hundred tents were pitched directly outside the walls of King's Landing, along the riverbank.
The shining armor, tall warhorses, and handsome knights performing under various flags and sigils greatly enhanced the enjoyment of the people of King's Landing. The crowds of King's Landing would cheer loudly for the knights.
Rhaegar's gaze swept over the viewing platform. He saw various flags and Lords: the Black-and-Red Dragon, the Crowned Stag, the Green-Field Rose, the Blue-and-White Crescent Falcon, the Running Wolf of the Wilderness, the Sun-Piercing Spear, and the Roaring Lion. The colors bloomed like clustered flowers. Today's event could certainly be called one of the most lively tourneys in Westeros.
Rhaegar saw that the first row consisted of the King and the Great Lords of the Realms. The White Knights, clad in white scale armor and cloaks as pure as fresh snow, protected King Jaehaerys and his family. Closest to King Jaehaerys and his kin were the Baratheon family, House Lannister, and House Martell. The adorable Deer Girl with black hair and blue eyes was still waving her small hand at Rhaegar. The girl was young but already strikingly beautiful. Robert Baratheon glanced at his older sister, feeling she was a bit too enthusiastic, but he dared not speak, having been suppressed too much at home.
King Jaehaerys, Duke Mond, Lord Tywin, and Crown Prince Aerys were extremely proud; this was the glory due to fathers. Queen Rhaella, Lady Joanna, the Princess of Dorne Elia, and Lady Ismon, Ser Steffon's wife, laughed and chatted—the Four Roses of King's Landing were gathered together again. Queen Rhaella's face was full of pride; her eldest son had brought her honor, laughter, and praise.
Next was Duke Jon Arryn, accompanied by his wife and young son Rennal. The family, dressed in magnificent Blue-and-White Crescent Falcon robes, signaled to Rhaegar. Under the banner of the Running Wolf of the Ice Plains were Duke Rickard and his wife and children: the somewhat reserved second son Eddard, and the unrestrained, lively, and confident eldest son Brandon. The Wolf family had standard brown hair, long faces, and gray eyes; everyone said they possessed the Blood of the Wolf, which a few members of every generation inherited.
House Tyrell's banner appeared the freshest green. Duke Tyrell and his wife, along with their son Mace, wore green velvet coats, with a rose pattern outlined in golden thread on their chests. Young Master Mace, with brown hair and eyes, looked very excited, and the Duchess told her son to be more composed.
"Those flashy Targaryens, they can't wait to tell the whole world they have dragons again," the Duchess whispered critically. But then she saw Rhaegar's figure, and comparing him to her own son, the difference was rather stark.
Young Master Mace had also studied martial arts since childhood, but he excelled neither in scholarly pursuits nor in combat, never displaying any heroic deeds on the battlefield. The Duchess had realized her son was destined to be a mediocre person. Perhaps in every generation, only one or two individuals would shine brightly like the sun, while the remaining stars could only orbit around them.
Rhaegar also spotted the people from the Free Cities. The Sealord of Braavos had sent a son. The Archon of Tyrosh brought his son and daughter; the Archon's daughter of Tyrosh had long blue-green hair, was clever and witty, and possessed a graceful demeanor, her beautiful blue eyes fixed intently on Rhaegar.
Pentos, meanwhile, had assembled a lavish delegation of twenty Magistrates to watch the Dance of the Dragons. Although the people of Myr and Lys were reluctant, they still dispatched corresponding delegations.
Rhaegar paid the most attention to the people of Volantis. The Volantene delegation had sent a Great Merchant, rumored to be a candidate for the next Magistrate. That man saw Rhaegar and offered a kind smile. There was also a large group of merchants from the Free Cities who had bought expensive tickets to come and admire the magical dragons themselves.
Prince Rhaegar, having completed three laps with the dragons, returned to his original position amidst the cheers of the crowd and gathered with his Jicheng Bing. Those soldiers had not moved, waiting on horseback, their formation hard as iron. Although most of their faces were youthful, they displayed a fierce nature, forming an army like a mountain or a forest.
"Now I announce that the victor, the spearbreaker, Lucky Rhaegar, the Silver Prince of the Targaryen Family, and his Eagle Guards, will perform a simulated battle for us! Although Prince Rhaegar is young, he is already an excellent warrior. Prince Rhaegar has led his soldiers to victory in the Battle of the Valley Road, and the Prince also slew three knights at Maidenpool!" the Master of Ceremonies called out excitedly.
In the center of the arena, many straw dummies had already been set up.
At Rhaegar's command, accompanied by the desolate sound of horns, the longbow unit stepped forward, and a rain of arrows swept down, completely covering the dummy troops.
Next came the cavalry. The soldiers followed closely behind the longbows, charging their horses and raising their long spears, long swords, and meteor hammers. Like the wind sweeping away clouds, they cut through the dummy troops, eliminating them one by one.
The Eagle Guards followed orders—one unit, one collective, one raging fire.
Longbow coverage, battlefield division, reserve units entering, encirclement and flanking—these soldiers were better trained, calmer, and better equipped. Every slight advantage on the margins meant a nightmare for the enemy on the battlefield.
Although the Eagle Guards were young, they already showed the appearance of steel. They were silent yet surging, like a tide.
The magical dragons circled in mid-air, and the straw dummies began to burn fiercely.
Some Lords and envoys, however, looked thoughtful, wondering why such an elite force needed to be trained when the realm was at peace.
Applause roared out again like a tide, and everyone offered more cheers for the soldiers' spectacular performance.