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Chapter 22: The Queen of Greenhill

Subsequently, at the command of Lord Redwin, the Greenhill Island fleet began to shift formation, with longships and three-masted warships forming a fan-shaped array on the pitch-black sea.

"Charge!"

Hoo—

The war horns sounded once more, yet this time they rang out longer than ever before, signaling the long-prepared battle was finally to be fully unleashed.

Under the sound of the war horns, every Greenhill Island soldier felt a slight tension within, gripping their weapons tightly.

"Fire!"

Then, the ballistae on the three main ships of the Greenhill Island fleet finally launched simultaneously.

Boom, boom, boom—

A series of thunderous noises from the bowstrings erupted like a blast of thunder, while swiftly launched spears tore through the air. The three main ships unleashed a volley of shots that filled the sky, the spears shrieking as they hurtled toward the distant Dragonstone Island fleet.

"Raise shields—"

Meanwhile, the Dragonstone Island fleet, led by the commander aboard the flagship Black Death, stood ready. His blood-red cloak fluttered in the wind as he adjusted the helmet atop his head, revealing a wisp of white hair at his temples.

The old knight then decisively issued the order to raise shields for defense, protecting the crucial facilities and personnel on the warships.

"Raise shields—"

"Raise shields—"

Following the cascading orders, all the soldiers on the massive warship Black Death stood ready.

Splash.

Holding aloft massive kite shields, four feet tall, made of thick oak and edged with iron, the soldiers quickly moved into position, forming a formidable shield wall with perfect unison.

Shield after shield, emblazoned with the Targaryen family crest of the three-headed dragon, faced the enemy.

"Raise—"

A knight in armor stood on the deck, drawing his longsword from his waist, then slashing down with force.

"Close!"

Boom—

With a synchronized sound, the shield wall was instantly formed, protecting the commander in the center, leaving only a small gap for continued observation of the outside world, virtually airtight.

Sir Joffrey in the center didn't even move a single step, still slightly tilting his head while standing in place.

The fleet defending Dragonstone Island was the Targaryen family's most elite naval force. Unfortunately, its role in the War of the Usurper was not particularly significant.

In this era, land power still held the most decisive influence, while naval power alone could not reverse fortunes or determine the outcome of a large-scale war.

The Dragonstone Island fleet had once been assigned to attack and harass rebel ports such as White Harbor in an attempt to divert the attention of the Northern army.

However, in truth, ever since the Shipburner, Brandon, set ablaze all of his father's warships a hundred years ago, the North has not had any significant naval forces.

They offered no resistance and simply allowed the royal fleet to attack the coastline at will. Even if the Dragonstone navy laid waste to the coastal regions of the North, it wouldn't cause Eddard Stark to bat an eyelid.

After all, the Dragonstone navy, no matter how strong, could not blockade the entire sea, let alone abandon their ships and engage in land combat. The North's weather and cavalry would ensure that the Targaryen soldiers would never return.

...

At the center of the maelstrom of the Battle of Dragonstone, Sir Joffrey, the commander of the Dragonstone fleet, looked into the distance with his head tilted back.

And the next moment.

The black cloud of spears, fired by ballistae, finally arrived.

Pew, pew, pew—

Countless sharp-tipped spears, emitting piercing whistling sounds, plunged directly into the surging sea, splashing waves. The hit rate of these siege weapons deployed on the main ships during naval battles was roughly equivalent to relying on luck.

However, out of the many spears fired in a single volley, a few were fortunate enough to strike the deck of the Black Death, a ship in the Targaryen fleet.

Boom—

The spear, carrying immense force, shattered a shield wall like crushing a piece of biscuit, easily tearing through the formation that the soldiers had created.

One soldier, holding a massive kite shield, was pinned to the deck, and several others were knocked down.

The shield wall was instantly torn open with several wounds, and the soldiers' blood splattered onto the deck. Their bodies, still twitching slightly, let out wretched screams.

This wave of screams sent chills down the spines of all the Targaryen soldiers. Their palms, gripping the shields, began to sweat, and they swallowed hard.

But they still clenched their lips and said nothing, knowing that naval battles were a matter of life and death. If defeated, there would be no escape on the open sea.

However, under the siege weapons of the Queen of Greenstone, their sturdy shields seemed as fragile as paper.

"Counterattack!"

But the commander of the Dragonstone fleet showed no hesitation or fear, still appearing calm and collected, standing in the center of the shield wall. He decisively ordered the Black Death and the other two main ships to retaliate with their trebuchets.

Nobody knew that the old knight's palms were sweaty, too. In such a large-scale naval battle, life and death truly depended on luck.

They prayed for their opponents' trebuchets and ballistae to be inaccurate, for favorable winds and currents, and for their own trebuchets to be more precise.

The even more brutal boarding combat, relying on soldiers leaping onto enemy ships, would take place after both sides' main ships had exchanged fire. However, one side had to take the initiative to charge, or else they would simply continue to bombard each other from a distance.

Following the order from the Dragonstone fleet's commander, the soldiers strained to twist ropes, loading stones into the "spoons" of their trebuchets. The Black Death, the largest warship serving the Targaryen dynasty, finally let out a roar of rage.

Boom, boom, boom—

A series of stones were launched into the sky, carrying tremendous force, flying directly towards the distant Greenstone fleet.

Lord Redwyne, aboard the Greenstone fleet's flagship, the Queen of Greenstone, narrowed his eyes, calmly observing the changes in the battlefield.

Though Greenstone was merely an island known for producing fine wines, the Redwyne family had always placed great emphasis on nurturing their naval forces. They provided a powerful fleet to protect the bays, serving as a maritime barrier for the entire region.

The traditional naval strength of the Greenstone fleet was even comparable to the royal fleet and the Iron Fleet of the Iron Islands.

That's why Paxter Redwyne was able to cooperate with the Tyrell army to blockade Storm's End for a whole year, forcing the trapped Stannis Baratheon to resort to eating horse meat, and eventually resorting to consuming the dead and rats.

But now, the Redwyne family, having already surrendered, accepted the orders of the new king and came to attack Dragonstone.

Two strands of orange-yellow hair fluttered as the man waved his hand.

To counter the incoming assault from the Dragonstone fleet, he ordered his entire force to press forward, with all longships prepared to draw the attention of the Dragonstone fleet and engage in boarding combat.

The most brutal part of this naval battle was about to unfold.


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