The one-sided battle lasted until dusk.
Under the relentless flames of two dragons, the entire encampment turned into a sea of fire, accompanied by wails and the stench of burning flesh.
Except for a few lucky ones who managed to escape, thousands of highland clansmen perished.
**"Glutton, land!"**
Rhaegar commanded Glutton to descend onto the only remaining patch of open ground, surrounded by flames and charred corpses.
**"Rhaegar, the giant's descendant has already been captured. Why are you going down?"**
Rhaenyra's voice carried over.
Syrax landed dozens of meters away, her talons crushing a burning tent beneath her weight. Her vertical pupils twitched restlessly as she locked onto Glutton.
Glutton shook his massive body before lying down with an air of indifference, snorting disdainfully.
A little she-dragon who had never seen the world, chasing after a bunch of insects like an excited child—pathetic.
**"Don't get off your dragon!"**
Rhaegar turned back and shouted at Rhaenyra, placing one hand on Glutton's talon as he stepped forward.
He was searching for that naked woman.
Despite becoming a fire sorcerer, he had yet to master any spells or pyromantic abilities.
Being engulfed in flames gave him immense power, but it consumed too much of the magic in his blood and was too singular a technique.
Rhaenyra obeyed, staying on Syrax's back, never taking her eyes off his figure.
A dragonrider's strength lay in their dragon.
If she dismounted, she couldn't guarantee her own safety.
Rhaegar scanned the area, searching carefully.
Finally, amid the burning ruins, he heard the faint murmurs of a woman.
Drawing his sword, he kicked aside a charred log and stepped into the scorching wreckage.
Before him, a pale-skinned, beautifully shaped naked woman was curled up in a corner of the ruins.
Her long black hair cascaded over her shoulders, covering much of her exposed body.
Rhaegar could faintly hear her praying to some deity.
**"What's your name?"**
As he approached, his voice was cold and unyielding.
The woman trembled slightly, raising her head timidly. Her enchanting face and bewitching eyes seemed to draw people in. She parted her crimson lips slightly and whispered:
**"Myrcella."**
Her voice was intoxicatingly seductive, as if inviting a man into her embrace.
Rhaegar's gaze swept over her, finally resting on her chest.
At first glance, he was captivated.
Noticing his gaze, the woman's eyes gleamed with amusement. She arched her back slightly, pushing her chest forward with a hint of pride, her voice delicate yet coy:
**"My lord, what do you desire?"**
**"Nothing."**
Rhaegar rejected her outright, his tone cold.
**"Are you a fire witch?"**
**"Yes, my lord."**
The woman stood up slowly, boldly stepping toward the young man.
**"Praise the great Lord of Light for guiding our fateful meeting."**
*Clang!*
A sword was instantly pressed against her pale neck.
Rhaegar tilted his head, eyeing her outstretched hand with disdain.
**"You should be grateful that my sword is quick. The moment you touched me, you would have lost your hand."**
Even Rhaenyra wasn't this blatant about coveting his body.
And yet, this flea-ridden woman—who would spend three nights with a silver stag—thought she could touch him?
**"Ungrateful wretch!"**
The woman's expression changed abruptly. She quickly fell backward onto the ground.
**"Roar!!"**
A shadow shot out from the corner, a flash of cold steel striking toward Rhaegar's neck.
From the corner of his eye, Rhaegar caught sight of the attacking shadow but didn't flinch.
*Buzz—*
A strange, eerie blue pattern surfaced on the left side of his neck, transforming into a layer of shimmering blue scales that blocked the deadly strike.
Turning his head, Rhaegar saw a large black feline, about the size of a leopard.
Its eyes—one blue, one green—glared at him with vicious intent, one of its claws pressed against his scaled skin.
*Slash—*
A single sweep of his sword, and the feline's head tumbled to the ground.
Blood splattered onto Rhaegar's cheek. He frowned in distaste and wiped it away with his sleeve.
Looking down at the naked woman, his expression remained indifferent.
**"Either you hand over your sorcery or magic, or you'll end up just like it."**
As he spoke, he pointed his sword at the black feline's corpse.
That was no ordinary cat, tiger, or leopard.
This creature is called the Shadow Lynx, a ferocious beast native to the valley.
Resembling a leopard in appearance, an adult Shadow Lynx can hunt and kill any large wild animal. It is naturally cruel and always ambushes its prey from the shadows.
He had heard that the Highland Clan possessed a Shadow Lynx.
It seemed to be a fierce beast raised by the witch.
"Sorry, I am a follower of the Lord of Light. I do not practice witchcraft."
Staring at the Shadow Lynx's corpse, the woman was nearly scared out of her wits, scrambling backward in a panic.
She truly didn't know witchcraft.
If she did, she would have long since tricked the noble society and deceived those aristocrats.
"Alright, I believe you,"
Rhaegar sighed as he admired the woman's naked, crawling posture, slowly approaching her.
The woman immediately stopped moving, spread her legs wide, and forced a smile in an attempt to cooperate.
A flash of cold steel.
Her head, along with strands of severed hair, flew through the air as blood gushed like a fountain.
Rhaegar pressed his dragon-claw blade against the gory source of the spray, then unfastened the ruby necklace from the headless corpse's neck.
Glancing down at the severed head, still frozen in a fawning smile, Rhaegar sighed in exasperation.
"Like a broken sack… Were you always this confident?"
With that, he kicked the obstacle aside and strode out of the ruins.
---
**Nightfall.**
A grand victory feast was held in Rune Stone to welcome the triumphant warriors.
The rebels on the crosses were hanged one by one, stripped bare, and displayed atop the city walls.
Inside the castle, however, the celebration was subdued, proceeding in near silence.
The shadow of the Black Wedding still loomed over everyone's hearts.
Many noble ladies and wives remained in Rune Stone, gathering on the second floor with Jeyne.
They were relieved that they could still return home.
The fathers and brothers who had brought them here, however, would never return.
Rhaegar sat at the head of the table in the great hall, with only a few others dining alongside him.
Old Grafton stood up, raised his cup solemnly, and declared,
"Thanks to the Prince, the valley has triumphed. Let us drink to avenging our fallen brothers!"
"To the brave and fearless Rhaegar Targaryen!"
Whether noble, knight, or soldier, everyone raised their cups in unison, shouting Rhaegar's name.
Rhaegar slowly rose and said calmly, "To all of you!"
"To the Prince!"
The hall echoed with voices as they drank together.
This time, the wine had been personally tasted by servants to ensure its absolute safety.
It was likely that the practice of checking drinks would soon spread throughout the entire valley.
Rhaegar took a sip of clear wine, then set down his cup and spoke,
"Lord Grafton, I will be returning to King's Landing tomorrow. Please assemble the fleet as soon as possible."
"We would never dare to forget the Prince's generosity toward House Grafton,"
Old Grafton responded with an eager smile, as obedient as could be.
With House Shett and the Arryn branch in Gulltown eliminated, his family had now become the sole great house of the city.
It was foreseeable that their influence would rise to unprecedented heights.
Providing support for the Stepstones would be no issue at all.
Rhaegar raised his glass in acknowledgment, saying no more.
The Black Wedding had wiped out half of the valley's nobility, and the purge of the rebels had claimed even more lords of various ranks.
Once the noble ladies and widows returned to their houses with the news, internal power struggles would erupt across their families.
"Rhaegar, your wounds haven't fully healed. You should go rest,"
Rhaenyra descended the stairs from the second floor, speaking softly.
Rhaegar turned and smiled.
"Alright, I'll go now."
His wounds had long since healed with the help of Ouroboros.
But since his bandages remained wrapped around him, his vassals were unaware.
Rhaenyra had come to call him away, just as they had planned in advance.
Rhaegar had no intention of staying through the entire banquet.
**(End of Chapter)**