Game of Thrones: I Created the Weave

The waves were relentless, and the sea wind howled.

The various movements from Storm's End were barely perceptible at sea, the only clear signals being the arcs of flickering or shifting firelight along the castle walls.

Those were the torches raised by individual soldiers, representing swords and bow and arrow.

Those were the flourishing braziers beside the battlements, used for warmth and illumination, for igniting rockets and pitch, and for boiling hot oil.

Storm's End used this method to declare its vigilance, displaying its body of thorns and iron spikes.

Every point of firelight announced Storm's End's strict, meticulously prepared counterattack force, and foretold the countless blood and life the attacking side would lose.

The guards gripped their swords and crossbows, ready to kill the enemy.

Meanwhile, inside the castle behind them, horns blared incessantly, like muffled thunder accumulating infinite rage, intimidating the enemy, and also like inspiring music, encouraging victory.

The fleet at sea, however, approached in silence, communicating only through changes in their flags.

Why aren't they beating drums and blowing horns?

Many young guards showed puzzled expressions. So many stories and regular training were the same; shouldn't war be accompanied by drums and horns throughout?

Even if this was a fleet sailing at sea, they shouldn't be so quiet when launching an attack, right?

Experienced veterans were also quite perplexed.

Without drums and horns to make young men hot-headed, who would dare to rush to the castle walls after calm consideration, facing bow and arrow, stones, and hot oil, enduring the clear, piercing wails from all directions?

Holding various thoughts, the guards' sense of tension seemed to have lessened considerably.

They then looked down at the fleet below.

A blur of ships, so scattered and unremarkable, so inconspicuous.

Compared to a menacing army, they looked more like predatory pirates, who would only quietly approach for a sneak attack, never launching a frontal assault in the light.

They're similar to pirates. Cortnay Penrose recalled the battle process described in the letter from Rain House City, almost the same tactics as the Ironborn's longships: ambush, sneak attack, frontal assault, retreat after casualties.

Thinking this way, wasn't the practice of dividing forces to invade various coastlines precisely the Ironborn's consistent style?!

The confusion in Cortnay Penrose's heart seemed to have been resolved.

The letter also said that one of the officers who attacked Rain House City was Theon Greyjoy, a whelp from the Iron Islands.

Perhaps this Theon had swayed the cruel heart of the False King Joffrey? Making him dispatch the fleet to wreak havoc everywhere, to avenge Massey's Hook, or simply to cause destruction?

Cortnay Penrose couldn't be completely sure, but at least...

He surveyed the fleet below. A rough count showed no more than two hundred ships; the exact number from the watchtower was one hundred twenty-one.

At least it was certain that the fleet had indeed split up.

This was of course good news for Storm's End, but a disaster for the castles along other coasts. For His Majesty Renly, it was probably a piece of intelligence that was not too bad.

After all, given the current situation, King's Landing had no fleet to protect the river, and the lands of the Stormlands houses would not be completely destroyed, only allowing the willful Prince Joffrey to vent his anger, plundering some villages and fishermen.

For the war, this was nothing.

King's Landing's strength was being expended in unnecessary places, while His Majesty Renly's army was growing and becoming more skilled day by day, just waiting to pierce the enemy's heart.

The war situation seemed to be becoming clearer and clearer.

"Hahaha~"

"They're truly insane. Ha, they're even using this kind of thing as a weapon? They can't even touch a single hair on Storm's End!"

"Look, they haven't stopped yet!"

"If this is all they have, we can all go back to sleep. They won't be able to enter Storm's End in a hundred years..."

Guards all over the castle walls burst into laughter and mockery.

Cortnay Penrose did not immediately stop them. He also saw the fleet's attack, which was insignificant, even absurdly laughable.

Dozens of warships approached to a distance where they were almost grounded, firing bow and arrow and stones from their decks, yet most still failed to clear the cliffs below the castle, let alone damage the walls.

Cortnay Penrose understood that this kind of attack from the enemy would only boost the castle's morale and make the defense more resolute.

However, there was still one question: where were the enemy's white light and sound?

The sky was gradually brightening, so the effect of the white light could be ignored, but what about the huge sound that Rain House City mentioned several times in their letter? That kind of thing could be much more effective.

This was what Cortnay Penrose was most troubled and worried about at the moment.

Once the enemy used this strange power, low morale and inconvenient communication in the castle would be minor problems. If it kept everyone from sleeping and exhausted their energy, and then the enemy found a weakness to approach and attack the castle...

Cortnay Penrose had no other way but to keep a close eye on the fleet's movements, judging the enemy's intentions from them, so as to prepare in advance.

About a quarter of an hour later, the warships that had been throwing arrows and stones retreated.

Cortnay Penrose immediately stopped the guards' uproar, ordering everyone to be on high alert, observing and reporting any enemy movements they saw.

But this order quickly became useless.

Cortnay Penrose himself clearly saw the fleet's movements.

All the warships sailed north, stopping on the sea next to the flat ground more than a thousand paces away from Storm's End, and lowered their sails.

Then many small boats carrying dense figures rowed towards the shore.

The enemy is landing!

Cortnay Penrose and everyone else were shocked.

This was Storm's End, not some ordinary Rain House City!

How many soldiers were on those one hundred and twenty-one ships? They actually landed just like that? Did they think they could attack Storm's End's gate from the land?

No one didn't know how formidable the gate was.

The crossbows and stones on the city walls were the first line of defense for the gate, capable of launching thousands of deadly attacks in just a few breaths, leaving corpses scattered outside the city.

The dry, wide moat was the second line, and the guards would enthusiastically help the enemy fill the moat.

With their own bodies.

The third line of defense was the hot oil poured down from the city walls.

After the enemy, smelling the aroma of roasted meat and burning hair, destroyed the drawbridges leaning against the city walls and entered the dozens of feet long gate tunnel.

The countless bows and crossbows above the tunnel entrance, the piles of stones, and the pots of hot oil would form the fourth line of defense.

The enemy, leaving behind more dead bodies, finally reached the city gate.

The iron gate, which had been prepared long ago, would clang down, isolating anyone within six feet of the gate, followed by a one-sided slaughter.

Only after these guys were also turned into corpses would the gate be raised again, waiting for the next round of prey...

Cortnay Penrose frowned as he looked north.

There were probably a few thousand enemy soldiers who landed. With just that, they probably wouldn't even touch the city gate even if they all died.

The sun had risen high.

A figure in white armor, reflecting the sunlight, rode out from the enemy's landing camp.

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