"Long live the Storm!"
"Long live the Storm!"
"May the Warrior guide your path!"
"Fortune's favored one!"
"This is the son of the late King!"
As Gendry rode through the streets of King's Landing, the people cheered enthusiastically.
They shouted his name, lifted their children toward him in hopes of receiving his blessing, and scattered flower petals beneath his horse's hooves.
Ever since the supply routes into King's Landing had reopened, the lords had quickly transported grain into the starving city.
The grateful citizens immediately became Gendry's most loyal supporters.
Only a few days earlier, these same people had cursed him for besieging King's Landing and plunging the city into suffering. Now, they had completely forgotten their anger.
The people had always admired the young, fearless King Robert.
Later, they transferred that admiration to Renly.
Now, they naturally placed those same hopes upon Robert's son.
Renly had once been praised as the most handsome man in the Seven Kingdoms.
Gendry, taller, broader, and every bit as charismatic, naturally won their admiration just as easily.
Smiling, Gendry raised a hand to acknowledge the crowd.
His golden cloak fluttered in the wind above a black-and-gold studded jacket trimmed with crimson. A massive greatsword rested across his back, making his already imposing figure appear even more heroic.
Behind him rode a procession of knights clad in golden armor and black cloaks as they made their way toward the Dragonpit atop Rhaenys's Hill.
At the same time, another detachment had already departed.
Led by Ser Lothor, they headed toward Flea Bottom to recruit the city's finest rat catchers.
Their mission wasn't concealed, nor was it openly announced.
Instead, they behaved naturally, allowing Varys—or anyone watching—to observe everything.
King's Landing stood upon three great hills.
The Red Keep on Aegon's Hill symbolized royal authority.
The Great Sept of Baelor upon Visenya's Hill represented the Faith.
The Dragonpit on Rhaenys's Hill had once embodied the power of dragons and, by extension, military strength.
But after the dragons disappeared, the Dragonpit gradually fell into ruin.
Eventually, it became little more than a gathering place for thieves and prostitutes.
Only after the recent war—and after one unfortunate drunkard accidentally drank wildfire and burned himself alive—did people begin avoiding the place altogether.
"We've arrived," Ser Barristan announced.
Before them stood the enormous ruins of the Dragonpit.
Even in decay, the ancient structure inspired awe.
The great dome had collapsed inward, leaving behind only scorched stone and shattered walls.
Its massive bronze main gate remained sealed.
Large enough for forty mounted knights to ride through side by side, it had stood untouched for more than a century.
Forged from bronze reinforced with steel, the gate had proven too formidable even for thieves to dismantle.
The smaller oak-and-steel entrances, however, had either been destroyed during the riots or stripped long ago.
Barristan led everyone toward a side entrance whose wooden door had long since rotted away.
"We can enter through here."
Before anyone stepped inside, Randyll Tarly raised a hand.
"Wait."
"I've heard wildfire was once stored beneath the Dragonpit."
"We should search the area first."
Barristan nodded.
"A wise precaution."
At Randyll's command, several scouts and squires entered first to inspect the interior while everyone else waited outside.
Gendry suspected that most of the hidden wildfire had already been consumed during the Battle of the Blackwater.
Even so, caution never hurt.
After all, hidden caches of wildfire were far too dangerous to ignore.
Standing nearby, Melisandre quietly observed the ruins with great interest.
It was her first visit to the Dragonpit.
Gendry turned toward her.
"Do you sense anything?"
The Red Priestess slowly shook her head.
The ruby at her throat briefly shimmered before fading once again.
"The dragons have been gone for far too long."
"There are no lingering traces of magical power."
Randyll Tarly glanced briefly at the exposed curve of her chin beneath the crimson hood.
With his sharp instincts, he had already guessed her identity as the former priestess who had served Stannis Baratheon.
Still, he wisely chose to pretend otherwise.
To him, she appeared to be nothing more than one of Gendry's advisors.
Gendry's victories had always been won through steel, fire, storms, and blood—not religion.
Randyll had seen many rulers keep symbolic advisors close at hand.
This seemed no different.
As everyone waited, Gendry spoke thoughtfully.
"King Aerys supposedly hid enormous quantities of wildfire throughout King's Landing."
"He intended to destroy the entire city."
"When Jaime Lannister killed both the Mad King and the pyromancers, the locations of many hidden caches were lost forever."
He paused.
"I've already ordered the remaining pyromancers to search the city."
"We'll recover every hidden cache we can find."
Randyll frowned.
"I never considered that possibility before."
Barristan sighed.
"If that's true..."
"Then Jaime may indeed have killed Aerys to save King's Landing."
"Even so..."
"He still broke his sacred vows."
"He murdered the king he had sworn to protect."
"He deceived the next king."
"And later dishonored his white cloak through adultery."
"No matter his reasons..."
"He stained the honor of the Kingsguard."
Anguy looked around curiously.
"How many entrances did the Dragonpit originally have?"
Barristan answered from memory.
"Within the mountain were forty enormous underground chambers connected in a great ring."
"Each chamber had heavy gates leading both inward and outward."
"The inner gates opened into the central arena."
"The outer gates led directly onto the hillside."
"There were around twenty smaller entrances..."
"...and this enormous main gate."
Randyll surveyed the ruined structure.
"It has deteriorated badly."
"These stone seats once held eight thousand spectators."
"If necessary, many more could be packed inside."
"Now it's little more than a burned shell."
Barristan nodded.
"Many dragons once lived here."
"But those raised inside the Dragonpit never reached the size of Vhagar or Meraxes."
"They certainly never rivaled Balerion the Black Dread."
Gendry quietly considered those words.
From everything he had read, dragons seemed meant for open skies.
Whether in the volcanic mountains of Valyria or the cliffs of Dragonstone, dragons thrived where they had freedom.
The Dragonpit, despite its size, had always been little more than a giant prison.
One of Randyll's scouts soon returned.
"Your Highness."
"The interior is clear."
With the danger eliminated, everyone entered together.
The sound of horses echoed through the dark tunnels.
The Dragonpit's design was surprisingly straightforward.
Long passageways wound around the mountain before opening into the enormous central arena beneath the collapsed dome.
It was this immense open space that had once allowed tens of thousands of spectators to gather within.
Some even claimed the Dragonpit could hold nearly one hundred thousand people during exceptional events.
Barristan looked upward.
"A place like this..."
"It never truly suited dragons."
Melisandre quietly corrected him.
"It didn't merely seem unsuitable."
"It never was."
"Great dragons belong to the sky."
"They belong to freedom."
"This is not Dragonstone."
"There is no scent of fire or sulfur here."
"I've heard the dragons were chained inside these walls with heavy iron restraints."
When Gendry finally stepped into the center of the Dragonpit, silence greeted him.
The collapsed dome lay scattered across the arena.
Huge piles of blackened stone still remained where Bloodraven had once burned countless plague victims.
Most of the stone seating had disappeared.
Over the years, the people of King's Landing had simply carried the stones away for their own buildings.
Barristan noticed the missing masonry.
"After the Dragonpit was abandoned, much of its stone was taken by the townsfolk."
Bronze Yohn Royce nodded solemnly.
"Many dragons..."
"And many people..."
"Lost their lives here."
His family had never forgotten those events.
After all, House Royce's ancestral sword, Lamentation, had vanished during the chaos of the Dragonpit's fall.
Gendry stood silently.
Something about the history of the Dragonpit had always troubled him.
During the Dance of the Dragons, an enraged mob led by the Shepherd had somehow stormed this fortress.
Against all reason, they had slain multiple dragons housed within.
Syrax.
Morghul.
Tyraxes.
Dreamfyre.
And later, Shrykos.
Looking upward through the shattered dome, Gendry imagined Dreamfyre breaking free from her iron chains and rampaging through the Dragonpit in desperate fury.
Even after burning thousands of attackers, the mighty dragon had ultimately fallen.
A single crossbow bolt struck her eye.
Moments later, the wounded dragon crashed helplessly into the great dome above.
The impact brought the entire structure crashing down, burying dragon and men alike beneath tons of burning stone.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)