"If that's the case, then King's Landing is indeed unnecessary. As long as we annihilate the main force of Lannister, the effect will be the same."
"A city of hunger and terror," Ser Barristan also nodded. Gendry's actions in inciting the crabfeeders men to revolt were both vicious and deadly, as more than half of the grain still came from the rich small towns of the Crownlands.
Gendry actually had an even bolder and more radical idea in his heart. After all, someone had to taste wildfire. If the people of Lys, Volantis, or Braavos could be lured into attacking King's Landing, then the plan would be perfect. However, this poisonous scheme could only be used once. But Gendry also felt this plan was too fantastical; how could Lys and Volantis easily act as he wished?
"And there's a sixth route, Your Highness, which unit will you choose to mobilize?" Bronze Yohn asked expectantly. The remaining options were Highgarden, the Iron Islands, and Dorne.
"The last route is Highgarden. Lord Mace should seize this final opportunity. Dorne's manpower is limited, and they have other tasks," Gendry said. He warned Mace in his letter that with a hundred thousand elite troops, they would hunt the lion of King's Landing together. Surely Mace wasn't a complete fool.
"Why not the Iron Islands?" Jon Snow couldn't help but ask. "Theon is in our hands, and King Balon might also attack the Westerlands. The Iron Islands are also the closest."
"We have no room for negotiation with a madman, Jon. Balon is a madman; he killed his father and two sons. What does Theon matter?" Gendry smiled slightly. "I will not give Balon any special treatment. If his mind is completely broken, then I will bestow blood and fire upon him."
Everyone nodded. King Balon was an absurd and outrageous character, and besides, the Ironborn had always been untrustworthy.
"I will give you different envelopes shortly, Maester Colemon," Gendry said to Colemon, who also had a heavy responsibility on his shoulders.
Everyone understood the planning of this campaign. It looked like an entirely favorable situation. The scale of the war in Westeros would consist of several battles, followed by one final decisive battle. The war would not last too long; even the longest, the Dance of the Dragons, only lasted about three years.
"Everyone must not let down their guard; our war will be a long one," Gendry suddenly reminded them. Without the Long Winter, Lannister would have been quickly overthrown in summer. However, under the Long Winter, he didn't know whether the pace would be fast or slow.
"Long?"
"Not just Lannister and the Iron Islands. My enemies Across the Narrow Sea, Lys, Volantis, and even Braavos. And something even more terrifying: I've heard that many Wights have appeared beyond the Wall." Gendry looked at the northern part of the map. The Long Winter and the Long Night, war was changing from low magic to high magic.
"The Wall?" Jon felt a strange excitement in his heart. He had heard his grandmother's stories of White Walkers and terrifying spiders.
"My uncle also said there seemed to be something strange beyond the Wall," Dacey also nodded. Commander Mormont's letters were always sent to his sister.
Gendry took out several of his letters and had Maester Colemon release the ravens. Maester Colemon hurried back to his rookery, and the ravens soon flew high.
The ravens would fly to Riverrun, Dragonstone, the Claw Peninsula, Highgarden, and Luanhe City, stirring up more storms.
"Go say goodbye, Jon, to Miss Sansa Stark. After that, you'll come back to Myr with me. A new war has begun."
"Yes, Your Highness," Jon nodded, then walked out the door. Hardship was also a good teacher, making Sansa much closer to her family.
As Jon went out, Dumb Harry appeared at the door again, "Prince Gendry, I request to become your Attendant."
"My requirements are very strict, Harold; the warriors by my side are the strongest," Gendry emphasized to Harold.
"Anguy, this is the strongest Marksman," Gendry pointed to Anguy, who proudly puffed out his chest. "And Jon, his swordsmanship talent is good. Lothor, he is my right hand. Miss Dacey, I don't think you've seen her bravery on the battlefield."
Harold, however, replied firmly, "I see the huge gap between you and me, Your Highness. I am far from the most glorious of Knights. I request to follow in your footsteps." If he couldn't win honor on the battlefield, if he didn't follow the strongest storm, why would the proud Knights of the Vale follow him?
Everyone exchanged smiles. It seemed Young Lord Robin's head was still very sharp.
As everyone was chatting and laughing, a beautiful figure appeared with Jon Snow again. It was the reddish-brown haired, slender, and graceful maiden Sansa. She was wearing a white velvet dress adorned with countless pearls, embroidered with a fierce Direwolf in silver thread.
"Miss Sansa," Gendry said to her.
"Prince Gendry, Jon—no, my brother said you are preparing for a new war," Sansa asked, looking up at the tall young man.
"Yes," Gendry nodded.
"I pray to the gods above that you, Lord Lothor, and all the Lords will surely achieve victory," Sansa smiled shyly, adding a charming touch.
"Thank you for your kind words. Good day, Miss Sansa," Gendry looked at Sansa. Her reddish-brown hair was like fire; she was indeed a first-rate beauty, though not as stunning as Dany, she had her unique charm.
Dumb Harry stood behind Gendry with a long face, feeling a pang of discomfort and gloom. The beautiful lady he wanted to win over dismissed him, yet she was a shy admirer of the storm.
The maiden's shyness and affection were not lost on Dumb Harry. It seemed that under the glory of the storm, he was more like a supporting character... The ravens from The Eyrie flew away, and the ravens from King's Landing also began to fly.
Tyrion's mood was very bad. The girl, poor lovely Sansa, had disappeared, and the great riot in King's Landing had caused chaos.
Tyrion covered his aching, red face; it was a slap from his sister. Cersei had angrily called him an incompetent good-for-nothing.
"The King's Landing riot, the missing hostage, and the grain producing areas also facing crisis," Tyrion reported truthfully to his father. Let his father call him a fool; there was nothing he could do. He tried his best to do well, but a clever housewife cannot cook without rice.
Tyrion also suggested that his father quickly take Tommen away or send him to a safe place. He was determined to live and die with King's Landing, but the family had to have a backup heir.
"Sansa, Sansa, where did the sweet girl go? Riverlands, Dragonstone, or The Vale?" Tyrion's head was about to explode. At the same time, Ser Dontos was also missing. He really didn't understand their relationship. Perhaps Dontos was grateful for Sansa's rescue and was determined to repay her kindness. But the drunkard's abilities were limited.
"The Vale," Tyrion shivered. He couldn't help but think of the most terrifying outcome: Sansa escaping to The Vale.
These were all the storm's tricks; he was hiding his actions, stealing the little girl Sansa.
The storm's Direwolf Army was also a decoy. The storm was not in Luanhe at all, but secretly in The Vale. If that were the case, then it would truly be an eternal damnation, Tyrion thought in despair.
"My Lord, the Alchemists' Guild people are calling you to the hills to see that substance. They insist you dress very warmly; it's extremely cold there," Bronn walked into the room and reminded him. "This substance" was what the Pyromancer called wildfire.
"Let's go!" Tyrion composed himself. He still had to go see the wildfire.
That little green trinket was his trump card.
Once ignited, wildfire would burn fiercely until nothing remained. Moreover, it would seep into cloth, wood, leather, and even steel, setting them ablaze as well.
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