Harold led five hundred Dragon Guard, riding the finest warhorses from Holy Flame Island, charging at the very front of the army with an unstoppable momentum.
Daniella's Dragon Guard was comprised of excellent second sons and bastards from noble families, as well as orphans Daniella had raised since childhood; almost every one of them was an outstanding knight from the Seven Kingdoms. They underwent rigorous training daily, and in the past six months, they had participated in numerous real battles in the Stepped Street and Oldtown.
Moreover, their equipment, made of pseudo-Valyrian steel, could be said to be the finest armor and weapons in the world at present, and even their warhorses were all clad in exquisite barding. Thus, they pierced through the crowd that had surrounded the Vale Knights like a sharp blade.
Their weapons could easily pierce through the enemies' armor and flesh, but enemy swords and blades striking them would only spark, barely leaving even a large scratch.
Several hundred men, like a steel torrent, directly tore a huge gap in the dense human wall. Using the opening they created, the surviving four to five hundred Vale Knights seized the opportunity and broke through.
However, they did not stop to catch their breath but followed Harold and the others, charging towards the enemy once more.
Only blood can repay the wounds of blood!
What they wanted now was blood for blood!
Another half an hour passed, and of the so-called Thirteen Acorns Alliance, all the leaders, except for Earl Mosswood who had actively withdrawn, perished on the spot. Harold and his men did not even give them a chance to surrender.
As Daniella's sworn knight, Harold, though ambitious, was unquestionably loyal to Daniella. He knew well that these people were incited by the mastermind behind the scenes to come here, and their ultimate goal was to deal with Daniella, so Harold naturally showed no mercy.
Rhaenyra, fighting on a dragon for the first time, still felt some reluctance, but seeing the Poor Fellows Gathering members acting as if insane, swarming towards her Syrax like disturbed ants.
Rhaenyra quickly had Syrax ascend into the air, then, like a bomber, she spewed Dragonflame towards the densely populated areas. To alleviate her sense of guilt, Rhaenyra unconsciously began chanting the incantations used during the cremation ceremony on Holy Flame Island (which were actually blood sacrifice spells).
Syrax's Dragonflame power instantly increased significantly, and under the Dragonflame's calcination, the scattered weapons and the flesh of the fallen gradually merged into a mass of black molten iron.
And Syrax, having tasted the thrill of slaughter for the first time, clearly felt her magic grow stronger and stronger with each kill, making her even more eager to kill.
Those Poor Fellows Gathering members who were initially waiting outside as reserves due to limited space became good targets for Syrax.
Thus, the middle of the battlefield was a river of blood, while the periphery was engulfed in raging flames.
The tragic situation before them instantly robbed The Reach knights and soldiers, whose combat prowess was already looked down upon by other kingdoms, of their courage to continue fighting, and they surrendered their weapons one after another.
Harold and his men did not trouble those who surrendered their weapons, simply driving them to the side to wait.
The Poor Fellows Gathering and the Highland Clans, however, were very resolute, preferring death to surrender. But the ferocious Highland Clans were like chickens and dogs before Harold and his men, destined only to be slaughtered, let alone the Poor Fellows Gathering members armed with crude weapons and no armor.
So, Harold and his men killed them as easily as harvesting crops, sweeping through without almost any pause.
By the time the sun began to set, after two or three hours of bloody battle, almost all the Highland Clans had been slaughtered, and nearly all the Poor Fellows Gathering members had been cut down. The remaining scattered soldiers and stragglers were all taken prisoner.
High Heart had already built many prisons, enough to hold them all.
And by the time Harold and his men had collected tens of thousands of bodies into the large pit near High Heart, which had been dug out earlier for forging Dragonstone, darkness had already fallen.
Along with the broken metal they had dropped, everything was thrown in. This was a specific instruction Daniella had given Harold before she left: after a war, when clearing the battlefield, bodies and weapons could be collected together and cremated directly with Dragonflame.
After the battle ended, Rhaenyra's courage dissipated. Seeing the mountains of corpses, her heart remained unsettled for a long time, so she continuously chanted the cremation ceremony incantations by the side.
Syrax, meanwhile, gleefully spewed Dragonflame at the mountain of corpses before her, as it made her feel increasingly powerful.
Just as Rhaenyra had almost finished cremating everyone, Daemon, who had been out wandering all afternoon, finally rushed back upon hearing the news.
His dragon, Caraxes, upon smelling the scent of the corpses in the giant pit, couldn't resist running over to feast. This sight made everyone, including Rhaenyra, frown slightly, though no one said anything.
"Are we wasting food keeping those captives? It's better to throw them into the fire pit and be done with it!"
Daemon was not a fool; in fact, he was a rare intelligent person among the Targaryen. He naturally knew that all the recent changes in the Riverlands were directed at the Targaryen Royal Family.
Now his true dragon blood had begun to boil; only true blood and fire could calm him down.
However, King Jaehaerys had made it clear that Harold was the supreme commander of this operation at High Heart. Daemon was there to maintain order, act as a mascot, and incidentally forge Dragonstone.
Rhaenyra, today, had simply come on a whim to see her uncle and the situation at High Heart. Unexpectedly, Harold and his men immediately put her to work forging Dragonstone. However, this also allowed her to experience her first dragon battle.
Outside a large cave near a huge smoking volcano in the Brightmoon Mountains, several small, dwarfish figures, shrouded in hoods, chanted loudly, holding hands.
In front of them lay a large number of slaughtered livestock. As they chanted, the surrounding magic seemed to instantly become richer.
"Ang ~"
"Ga ~"
"Moo Ang ~"
Accompanied by high-pitched dragon roars, three ancient dragons, all larger than Dreamfyre, slowly crawled out from the depths of the cave.
They seemed to have just woken from slumber, so they couldn't help but let out loud cries, spraying their Dragonflame directly into the air. This fire illuminated all the nearby Highland Clans villages.
If Daniella had passed through here just half an hour later, she would have surely seen these flames illuminating the Brightmoon Mountains.
After venting their fill, three streams of scorching and violent Dragonflame instantly engulfed the herd of livestock before them.
The three dragons, who had not eaten for a long time, immediately began to scramble.
The hooded dwarves quickly left upon seeing this, as they did not want to become food for the dragons.
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