A song of Fire and Blood

Chapter 20: The Storm of Blades (Part 4/4)

Naeron Qoherys, the commander of the Dragon Company, was fighting at the frontlines. His poleaxe, drenched in blood, swung with precision, cutting down enemy soldiers one after another. His focus was razor-sharp, and the rage inside him drove him forward, as if the enemy's blood was the only thing that could sate the fury inside him.

"Push them back!" Naeron roared as his axe cleaved into another Volantene soldier's armor. "No mercy!"

The Volantene soldiers, however, were relentless. They were well-trained and well-equipped, but they lacked the ferocity, the desperation, of the Dragon Company. It was a fight for survival now, a fight for everything that Aerion and his commanders had built.

Naeron's heart burned with hatred for those who would dare to challenge the Dragon Company, who would dare to betray them and take their men from them. As he glanced around the battlefield, he could see that the other commanders were holding the line, pushing back against the tide of Volantene soldiers.

But then, as if from the deepest pits of the earth, Bloodbeard himself appeared.

Bloodbeard, the mercenary leader, watched as the battle unfolded before him. His men were gaining ground, but there was something about the Dragon Company that made him uneasy. The fire that burned in their eyes, the relentless drive that kept them fighting. He had been in countless battles, but this one felt different. These men—these soldiers—had something that he and his men lacked.

He bellowed another command to his troops, sending them crashing into the Dragon Company's defenses, hoping to break their line once and for all.

But Aerion was there, his blade flashing in the sunlight, a beacon of hope for his men. Naeron, as always, was a force to be reckoned with, cleaving through enemies with his poleaxe. And then there was Monford Velaryon, Clement, and Barristan Selmy, their voices ringing out, rallying their men, pushing them to fight harder.

Bloodbeard grimaced, watching the Dragon Company fight back with such intensity. They were cornered, but they were far from defeated. The thought of losing this battle sent a shiver down his spine. If they won, if they broke the Dragon Company, then it would be the end of a legend.

And that, for Bloodbeard, was unacceptable.

Monford Velaryon's POV

Monford Velaryon stood at the heart of the Dragon Company's defenses, a Bastard Sword in his hand. His leg had been lost earlier in the battle, but he did not care. He could still fight—and fight he would. The pain in his leg was nothing compared to the wrath that surged through him. His men were falling, but they had no choice but to hold their ground.

He could see Aerion, still fighting fiercely, his flaming sword cutting through the enemy ranks like a blaze of destruction. He could see Clement, despite his injury, still standing strong, still cutting down enemies. He could hear the voices of his comrades, his brothers-in-arms, rallying their forces, refusing to give in.

Monford swung his sword, cutting through the Volantene soldiers as if they were nothing more than straw. His determination was unshakable. He would not let them fall. He would not let Aerion fall.

Then, at last, it happened. The tide shifted. The Volantene forces had pushed back the Dragon Company, but Aerion, Naeron, Clement, and Monford were not finished. With a roar, Aerion raised his sword high, and the Dragon Company answered his call. They surged forward, breaking through the enemy lines with the strength of a storm.

"FOR THE DRAGON!" Aerion cried out, and his men responded with an earth-shattering roar. They surged forward, fighting with the fury of men who had nothing left to lose.

Aerion cut through the enemy with wild abandon, his sword flashing as he carved a path to the heart of the Volantene army. Clement, despite his injury, was beside him, cutting down soldiers as if they were nothing more than shadows.

In the midst of the chaos, Bloodbeard and his men were being pushed back. The Dragon Company had found its second wind, and now there would be no stopping them.

"We will win this day!" Naeron shouted, his voice filled with strength.

With a final, overwhelming push, the Dragon Company broke the Volantene lines. The mercenaries faltered, their momentum lost, their will shattered. Aerion's blade cut down the last of their commanders, and with one final blow, the battle was over.

Epilogue: A Bitter Victory

The battlefield was silent, save for the groans of the wounded and the ringing of Aerion's sword as it was sheathed. The Dragon Company had won, but the cost had been high. The bodies of fallen comrades littered the ground, the smell of death thick in the air.

Monford lay on the ground, clutching his leg, but his eyes were filled with determination. Clement, though he had lost an eye, stood beside him, grim but proud. Barristan, though weary, was still standing, his blade covered in the blood of their enemies.

Aerion, though victorious, felt no joy in the blood-soaked earth beneath his feet. Thoros, his friend, was dead. The cost had been far too great.

But in the end, the Dragon Company had prevailed. They had won, and they would fight again, no matter the cost.

But Aerion knew this victory would haunt him for a long time.

The battle for Volantis was over.

But the war… the war was far from finished.