[Chapter Size: 2600 Words.]
Third Person POV.
Iron Islands.
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...
The men who had docked on the beach quickly invaded the island, passing through everyone who tried to stop them with the characteristic shouts of the ironborn as they attempted to halt the northerners, avoiding the port.
Meanwhile, the non-combatant population of Pyke fled the area due to the air that was harming anyone who got too close.
Everyone ran to the highest point of the island, where the castle itself stood, but they did not approach it as the survivors screamed that a monster in human form was massacring their companions, spewing fire and ice from its mouth.
The women in the group were terrified, for their husbands — if they could even call them that — and children were being slaughtered by the Northern army, which was coming from one side of the island, wiping them all out.
Tormund was having fun as he drove his axe into the chest of an ironborn, bursting his leather armor as blood splattered. He shouted with euphoria before charging toward the next enemy. At the same time, he led the common folk's troops, who maintained a formation that greatly surprised Lord Glover.
Tallhart already knew this from having fought alongside the free folk and from hearing the reports of his 500 men when they followed Tormund to the west of the Kingdom of the North, driving the ironborn from the coast. Still, seeing it in person surprised him: the people beyond the Wall had truly become excellent in army combat.
Even so, the people of the North were more disciplined in formation and superior compared to the common folk.
It did not take long for Daemon's two troops to crush the last 1,500 men, while 500 survivors, who had seen more than a thousand of their own mercilessly massacred, began to run. They had an even worse formation than the free folk, barely able to hold themselves before the strength of the enemy, which was at least five times larger.
After losing so much to just one strike from the dragon, which was still flying over Pyke and roaring occasionally, all the enemies became even more terrified and ran to the higher areas of the island, leaving the beach. Even women and children who tried to protect themselves looked cautiously at the sky as they trembled and prayed to their old gods or even to the Drowned God.
It was when they reached near the castle that the men finally surrendered, dropping their swords. There were not even 500 of them now, kneeling and begging for mercy.
"What damned… You're going to bow now? Well, raise your axes and fight, you southern fools!" Tormund roared in anger. He still wanted more blood.
"Calm yourself completely, Tormund!" Tallhart did not fail to shout at him. "This battle is lost. Look at them… There is no will to fight anymore. What pleasure is there in killing kneeling men?"
Tormund roared in disgust, but he knew the kneeler was right. "So be it." He clicked his tongue and reappeared before the men. "Well, it seems it's over. These southerners were nothing!" he roared, while the men raised their weapons before returning. They also took pleasure in killing the ironborn, after all, they too raided beyond the Wall, stealing people as slaves from the tribes near the west coast.
Tormund soon returned to the commander of the northern men, surprising him when he approached. "It seems there are women and children ahead. You'd better hold your people back. The dragon king will not forgive anyone who harms the non-combatant population, even if they are these ironborn," he warned.
Tallhart and Glover looked at each other for a moment, and Tormund continued: "Believe me… If there are 50 or 500 troops raping any woman or committing any war crime, Daemon will execute each one of those 500 people, whether they are northerners or free folk. I've seen that scenario countless times. So tell your men not to do anything foolish, for the free folk also know their place," he said, leaving the group of northerners while Tallhart nodded without contradicting Tormund's warning.
"Place the common folk somewhere on the island, somewhere they will not bother anyone, with men to calm them and guard them. That is an order from the king! As for the ironborn… Lord Glover, please have the men tie them up," Tallhart requested, while the northerners quickly split up, tying the ironborn and leading the non-combatant population to a place where they would not interfere with the march to Pyke's castle. Soon Tallhart and Tormund, along with their men, continued on.
It wasn't difficult. They found the castle open, full of bodies with the ground still burning in a straight line on one side, even before reaching the frozen bridge.
"Well… it seems Daemon had quite a bit of fun here," Tormund murmured.
"By the Gods… to think a man can do all this alone…" Glover couldn't help but tremble. He was accustomed to the idea of the dragon killing thousands, but the scene before him made it clear that a single man had done this.
Reports from the surviving ironborn who had been in Daemon's path said that the monster had simply begun surrounding everyone, lowered the bridge with magic, and entered the castle, committing a mass slaughter against Balon's men.
They continued into the castle and went straight to the main entrance, where the salt throne should be. When they finally found what seemed to be the main hall and entered, they saw bodies everywhere, many of them split in half.
Daemon was sitting on the salt throne, waiting for them, his axe upside down as he held the hilt with one hand. Balon was still there, trembling, tied with a chain that shone with a purple hue after Daemon had invoked, through conjuration, a chain spell to restrain him.
"By the beards of the giants beyond the Wall… you really massacred everyone, dragon king!" Tormund laughed, while Glover and even Tallhart — who, even after accompanying Daemon in the military campaign against the ironborn in Dustin territory — were shocked. Daemon did not care. He knew he would always leave people shocked with his powers. He had not even bothered to hide his abilities from Westeros from the beginning.
"Well, you're here. Let's organize the island. I want you to bring the common folk you placed on the other side of the island to the front of the castle. It's time to end Balon Greyjoy..." Daemon said, and Balon, for a moment, looked at him with anger and fear.
"What is dead may never die," he uttered, and Daemon simply laughed. His free hand rose, lifting Balon's body by the neck. There was no anger left, only fear in the eyes of the salt king, who stared at Daemon.
"You know… I admire your courage in your final moments. But I want you to know something: your Drowned God will not be able to help you. If you thought you achieved anything… well, I must say you made a very high wager. And one you ended up losing... You thought you'd be king of something? In the end, you will find only death. Your lineage will be destroyed. The name Greyjoy will no longer exist in Westeros. The Salt Throne will be taken by me, and I will bring it to King's Landing, just as I did with the Winter Throne, which I keep with me. I will place each of the thrones as a conquest in each kingdom, so that my children and descendants, in the future, may see each of the fools who dare challenge me and every place I conquered through fire and my steel..." Jon said before dropping Balon, who fell to the floor from about thirty centimeters high, groaning in pain.
The men heard that. The northerners did not seem very comfortable, but Tormund laughed — and laughed loudly. "That is how a king should speak!" he exclaimed with savagery.
Daemon said nothing. He simply rose from the throne and began tearing it free with telekinesis, making the ground crack around it as the throne detached before disappearing. No one could utter a word at what had just happened, leaving the place where the throne once stood empty, with a hole in the floor and cracks around it. Balon seemed pale as he watched the throne vanish after levitating by that man's magic.
"Well, let's continue. Do what I told you." In the end Daemon spoke, breaking the silence. He grabbed Balon and tossed him toward Tormund. "Take him to the middle of the central tower, above the bridge. I want a public execution."
Daemon waited while Tallhart and Glover began to act. The northerners, along with their prisoners and the common folk, gathered in front of the castle in the next hour.
The common folk of Pyke did not seem comfortable with the invaders. Some looked with anger and hatred, spitting on the ground upon hearing even the sound of their voices shouting at their own. Others begged for their husbands and children still alive.
And others begged for them to kill them themselves — many women carried a great resentment, for they were now slaves taken from their husbands, and there were even many northern women from that last raid, some of whom made a point of killing their own jailers after being taken from the North with the blood of their husbands, children, or brothers staining the snow. They found an opportunity there, when the dragon attacked.
When everything was ready, Daemon went to the front of the castle, in the open area above the gate.
"We are here today to put an end to this nonsense. This is not the first time Balon Greyjoy has rebelled against all the Seven Kingdoms, believing he could be king of something, but in the end, he failed both times. The only thing he managed to conquer were villages of people who could not defend themselves against his men. And I must also remind you that while his men were out there fighting and dying for him, he was here, sitting on the Salt Throne. He never took part in any battle. And you fools followed him as if he were blessed by something from your god. I remember your priest roaring words about the Drowned God… Well, he didn't say much after I cut his head off, and I haven't received any divine punishment since then..." Daemon raised his voice; everyone could hear him easily.
"In any case, I will do what the usurper king did not do before me: I will uproot this weed before it causes more problems in the future. I intend to destroy the entire Greyjoy family due to its two rebellions. There is no more salvation in keeping this family with so much power. That is why I, Daemon Targaryen, first of my name, heir to the Iron Throne and rightful king of the Seven Kingdoms, condemn Balon Greyjoy for his crimes to death and to something worse. For we are beyond rebellions… all the crimes he committed, in part, fall upon the one who commands and orders him."
"That is why I will be more than your executioner. I intend to take your soul," Daemon said, but this time quietly enough for only Balon to hear, while the man continued trembling upon hearing such words.
"What do you mean…?" Balon murmured, shaking.
"You will have no afterlife. Your existence ends here. You will not even have the right to see or rest before your God… if he even exists," Daemon said calmly.
They judged those who had to be permanently destroyed, and all the actions of the ironborn stemmed from that man. There should be no mercy.
"Balon Greyjoy, speak your final words now!" Daemon spoke loudly again. But the man only trembled.
"Please… no…" he whispered softly, but Daemon ignored him.
"Very well," Daemon announced, grabbing his axe and stepping to the side, raising it as he gripped the handle with both hands. Then he brought it down forcefully, piercing Balon's neck as the body collapsed headless beneath him. There were murmurs of astonishment from the ironborn, but one fact was clear: Balon had fallen.
Daemon opened his palm toward the fallen body and began to draw a purple energy that came from Balon's corpse, accumulating in Daemon's hand until it became a purple sphere made purely of energy, taking his soul before anyone could see, then storing it in his separate space for souls.
"I will use it later to create soul stones," Daemon murmured quietly as he returned to his men.
All he asked this time was for them to organize the island, placing members of the Northern Mountain clans to guard it, while a group of Tallhart's men would take the five hundred prisoners directly to the North, to the Wall, to serve alongside the Boltons who had surrendered at Winterfell, totaling two thousand and five hundred men reinforcing the Night's Watch.
In truth, Jeor Mormont at the Wall would have plenty of work now, and they would certainly begin to recover the strength the Night's Watch once had.
Daemon left enough food to last moons for the ironborn population, while some northerners would remain there, as well as a group of free folk. Daemon planned to place someone as the new lord of the Iron Islands; perhaps choosing a member of the free folk would be wiser. And, while there were many newly widowed women, he did not mind if the free folk claimed them for themselves, as long as they did not use force. Naturally, they would either desire — or submit to — new husbands or lovers.
Women tended to forgive faster than men their dead lovers, but that did not apply to the killers of their children.
In any case, Daemon isolated the port. No one could be there for at least a moon, until the ice melted and the air returned to normal. It would serve as a warning to any fool trying to retake Pyke, since the port would be the main path for landing—even if they found it strange that it was deserted.
The northern fleet had to pass by the other Iron Islands, and it clearly drew the attention of Blacktyde, Old Wyk, Orkmont, Great Wyk, and Harlaw. They would try retaliation as soon as they left their ships, but a thousand men guarding Pyke would be enough, while Daemon would fly to the island if he needed to deal with them personally.
The castle was placed under the command of about 200 men. Of the eight thousand who landed on the island, seven thousand began returning to their ships, with Daemon organizing a new attack in the West. They had lost 50 men and had 300 wounded; it was an overwhelming strike in the end against the 1,500 ironborn.
Now, in the riverlands, when the time came, he would divide the army: the free folk would advance westward, attacking both from the continent and from the sea. The people of the West would be doomed as soon as Golden Tooth was taken.
In any case, Daemon mounted Winter and advanced south, leaving Tallhart, Glover, and Tormund to continue leading their men, now with a new objective: Lannisport.
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