Ice and Fire: Reign of the Dragon.

Chapter 455 Situation Around the World

Blood Raven descended from the platform, his boots crunching over the ashes. He stopped in front of Olena, his single eye fixed on her shrewd face.

“Madam,” he asked softly, “do you also have something to say?”

Olenna's lips pressed into a thin line. She glanced at Mace, who was being stared at by Tywin Lannister not far away. By the Seven Gods, when did the Lannister family produce such a shrewd young man? Looking at her own son, she felt a surge of envy. She then looked at Stephen Baratheon, who was standing behind Bloodraven. The young man's hand was already on the hilt of his sword.

“I’m old,” she finally said, her voice hoarse. “Lord Brynden, I’ve lost my mind.”

Brinden asked softly, "Poison or exile?"

Olena closed her eyes: "Exile."

Brinden nodded and turned back to Igor's side.

House Tyrell will be fine for now. As the lords of the Reach, they should be kept alive to demonstrate the necessity of unity until they make a real mistake.

Therefore, it is not advisable to deal harshly with the Tyrell family in public, since they have not yet truly participated in the plan.

That night, Mace Tyrell was imprisoned in his own tent, and the golden tree banner of House Rowan was quietly raised beside the golden rose banner of the Reach.

The human army has once again united.

Meanwhile, the nights are getting longer all over the world, even in the mysterious Sothros.

A damp mist shrouded the rainforest of Sothros, the branches of ancient trees twisting like the claws of a pterosaur in the fading light. In this wild land, where even the bravest explorers dared not venture, a black stone temple city, swallowed by vines, emitted an eerie hum.

The moss on the stone pillar peeled away, revealing ancient runes carved beneath. The script was not known to any human; the distorted strokes looked as if they had been scraped out by sharp claws.

click
Suddenly, a scaly hand burst through the stone wall, its sharp claws slicing through the black rock and sending sparks flying. Immediately afterward, a second, a third, and dozens of other figures slowly rose from the shadows of the temple.

Lizard people.

Dan and Baler encountered these mysterious creatures while exploring Sothros in search of Moondance. Years later, Dan ventured deep into the rainforest's temple city again, using the power of the dragons and artifacts left behind by Dragonzel to meet the lizardman leader and reach a secret agreement.

Now is the time for the agreement to take effect.

These ancient creatures had cold, vertical golden pupils, bony fins extending from their necks, and as their tails swept across the ground, some kind of mushroom seemed to slowly sprout. The eldest, diminutive priest raised his black stone staff, the crimson gem at its tip reflecting the crimson comet in the sky.

"The Blood Star rises." The priest's voice was like the grinding of sand, as he looked up into the deepest part of the night, as if the crimson comet had fallen there. "The cold wave has arrived."

A terrible change is taking place in the rainforest outside the temple.

Groups of Tyrannosaurus Rex, Spinosaurus, Ankylosaurus, Triceratops, and Pteranodons slowly but orderly gathered toward the temple city. The territorial lords, who were originally at odds with each other, were able to coexist peacefully.

Throughout the depths of the rainforest, such scenes unfolded in every remaining temple city.

"Marching south!" The priest slammed his staff on the ground, and all the awakened lizardmen roared in unison. They took down the weapons hanging on the temple walls—spears and scimitars made of black stone, their surfaces engraved with ripples similar to Valyrian steel.

At the rear of the procession, three exceptionally tall figures pushed open a dusty, sealed chamber. They carried not weapons, but a massive golden palanquin. A huge, obese humanoid reptile sat atop the palanquin, its body adorned with intricate and ornate gold ornaments.

“We, the remnants of the old era,” the obese creature raised the black stone staff on its small paws, “will once again compose the symphony of our demise.”

In the far east, the five strongholds of the Wildlands are under heavy attack from the Night Lions and their retinue. These ancient servants of the cold god, as old as the White Walkers, are like black mist, their claws capable of tearing through steel. They move silently across the battlefield, melting the flesh of the defenders like wax wherever they go.

Chai Qian stood on the third base of the city wall, his black stone longsword already chipped.

"Light the beacon fires!" he roared to the soldiers behind him. "Light the beacon fires!"

But the beacon fires were extinguished by a gust of dark, cold wind as soon as they were lit.

The fifth base will eventually face its mission, even though these ancient and magnificent fortresses fell as early as eight thousand years ago, and no one knows if they will still be effective.

The West was also plunged into chaos. The fall of Braavos and the destruction of the Dothraki confirmed the coming of the Long Night.

Of course, the increasingly long nights are also irrefutable evidence.

And so, chaos ensued.

The black walls of Kohor glowed with an ominous crimson hue in the twilight. Before the black gates of the temple district, the Black Goat cultists lit eerie green flames, and the priests, their withered fingers dipped in human blood, drew twisted runes on the foreheads of their followers.

"The time for sacrifice has come!" the high priest roared, tearing open his purple robe to reveal a chest covered in old whip marks. "Only blood can please the great black goat!"

Inside the iron cage in the center of the square, a dozen or so boat people from the Lorne River huddled together in terror. The Black Goat worshipper, presiding over the sacrifice, beheaded them one by one. Blood flowed down the grooves into the cracks in the ground, and chilling swallowing sounds echoed from underground.

Such scenes played out almost every moment in Kohor, and the bloody sacrifices were completely recreated in this ancient city.

The bells of Norfolk rang out abruptly at midnight.

"Close the city gates!" The bearded dictator pounded on the gilded railing. "Not a single one is allowed in!" Refugees below the city walls cried and pushed, some holding up infants frozen purple. The garrison commander hesitated for a moment, earning a resounding slap from the dictator.

"You pity them?" the dictator spat, pointing north. "When the White Walkers come, who will pity us?"

At dawn, the patrolling soldiers discovered that the moat was filled with corpses, all of them refugees trying to swim across, their fingertips still gripping the icy cracks in the city wall bricks. But the silent monks kept the city gates tightly locked, not letting anyone into the city.

In the brick palace of Pentos, the last three warships are burning fiercely in the harbor, while two large ships are slowly sailing away from their anchorage.

"It was you!" The obese governor pointed a jeweled dagger at his brother. "You sent men to burn my ships! Why? Are you trying to escape?"

“Where’s the evidence?” The governor’s brother sneered as he wiped the blade of his sword. “But you’re right.” He suddenly lunged forward and stabbed the man in the throat. “Now we are indeed missing one of the men on the branch ship.”

The maids screamed and scattered, knocking over the luxurious porcelain screens. As flames leaped up the silk curtains to the dome, no one noticed that a faceless man in a mottled robe quietly took away the Sea King's golden crown—a relic carried by the Braavos refugees killed by the Pentos.

Beneath the black walls of Valantis, the regent supported by the Vareses family is making his final mobilization.

"Look at this!" He kicked the frozen head of a ghoul at his feet, the thing still baring its teeth. "When they attack, what difference will there be between slave owners and slaves? The Lord of Light's mortal enemy has awakened. If we don't arm ourselves now, Braavos will be our tomorrow!"

It seems to be in support of this powerful ruler.

The flames of the Great Red Temple suddenly shot up, illuminating the newly inscribed Valyrian decree on the temple wall: Whoever takes up arms to defend the city shall be immediately freed.

The mobilization of Valantis has begun.

(End of this chapter)