The fireships, packed with wildfire, moved incredibly fast thanks to the favorable wind and current.
To maximize their speed, their hulls had been designed long and narrow.
Viewed from beneath the surface, they resembled enormous fish darting through the water.
Through the circular field of his spyglass, Malaqo saw the small boats racing toward his fleet.
They were tiny individually, but more than a hundred of them had launched almost simultaneously.
Seen together, they made an impressive sight.
"What are they doing?"
Malaqo watched the approaching boats with some surprise, but he did not panic.
The little vessels were fast, but their size was completely disproportionate to the warships around them.
Even a simple collision would be enough to smash one of them apart.
Malaqo did not spend long considering the matter before ordering his crossbowmen to prepare.
"Fire!"
As soon as the fireships entered range, Malaqo gave the order.
Half of the heavy crossbows fired at once.
Twanging bowstrings erupted with a succession of thunderous cracks.
But the small boats were moving too quickly, making them extremely difficult targets for the heavy crossbows.
Malaqo remained confident.
He waited until the distance had closed further, until he could clearly make out the Targaryen soldiers aboard the little vessels.
Then the other half of the crossbows fired.
Boom!
This time, one of the massive bolts punched straight through a small boat.
Boom!
The fireship exploded.
Green flames erupted into a gigantic mushroom-shaped cloud.
"Wildfire!"
The green flames were reflected in Malaqo's pupils.
Only then did he realize something was terribly wrong.
The little boats that had seemed so insignificant moments ago suddenly looked like crocodiles rushing straight toward him.
"Turn around! Turn around! Hard to port! Retreat!"
It was already too late.
The warships in Malaqo's fleet had left enough space between them for the fireships to maneuver freely.
More than a hundred little vessels darted through the enormous fleet like rats.
The soldiers operating them threw fishing nets over the sides, ensuring that the fireships would catch on the larger vessels.
Then, the moment they leapt into the water, they threw their torches.
Boom!
Green flames instantly swallowed the little boat.
Driven by the wind, the wildfire spread toward the Volantene warships.
The hulls quickly caught fire.
The green flames crawled over the railings like demons, climbing onto the decks.
Faced with such a furious blaze, the soldiers aboard the warships hesitated for only a moment.
That was enough.
Their sails caught fire.
The flames raced from their feet to their heads, consuming everything within less than a minute.
Burning droplets of wildfire splashed onto some of the soldiers.
Panicking, they threw themselves overboard in an attempt to escape.
In barely ten minutes, the fireships had all detonated, setting nearly a fifth of the Volantene fleet ablaze.
The wildfire engulfing the ships was not satisfied.
Carried by the wind, it reached for even more prey.
The dazzling green flames were so bright that even the soldiers atop the Wall of Meraxes in the distance could not help squinting.
Alliser, much closer to the inferno, had an even harder time.
The instant the wildfire exploded, the soldiers instinctively turned their heads away.
The ships farther back, still untouched by the flames, desperately struggled to turn around.
Everyone had realized it.
This was a Targaryen trap.
But that did not matter.
As long as they escaped quickly enough, even if only half their fleet survived, no, even if only a third escaped, it would still be enough to seize the Upper Rhoyne and Little Rhoyne.
Tormo and Grazdan of Slaver's Bay reached the same conclusion.
The current in the Upper Rhoyne was even stronger, and they were facing twice as many fireships as Malaqo's fleet.
Their losses were therefore even worse.
But no matter how quickly wildfire burned, it still needed time.
Grazdan waved his staff frantically.
Like a wounded beast, he shouted angrily at the Unsullied.
"Tell them not to retreat! Hold back the wildfire!"
The Unsullied saw the staff in his hand and abandoned all thoughts of survival.
They obeyed their master's command.
Instead of fleeing, they rowed upstream, attempting to create a "firebreak" for the rest of the fleet.
There was no denying it.
The Unsullied's absolute obedience was tremendously effective at this moment.
They used their own warships to ram and block the burning vessels drifting downstream.
Some Unsullied even managed to use a single warship to absorb the explosions of several fireships.
The strategy adopted by the fleets under Tormo and Grazdan was essentially an attempt to "cut off the tail to save the body."
It bought the ships farther downstream enough time to escape.
"Vile Targaryens!"
Tormo cursed inwardly as he watched the dragons circling overhead.
He turned around, searching for Grazdan's flagship.
But the river was filled with wreckage and thick smoke drifting downstream, making it almost impossible to see.
Everywhere he looked, there was either green wildfire or rolling black smoke.
He searched for a long time before suddenly realizing that his ship had slowed down.
"What happened? Why are we slowing?"
"My lord! The ships ahead have stopped!"
"Who is blocking the river? Find out immediately!"
"Yes, my lord!"
A soldier hurriedly jumped onto a small boat.
Tormo turned back toward the burning warships, his heart pounding with anxiety.
The black smoke was getting closer.
He coughed violently as it filled his lungs.
Soon, the soldier returned with news that made Tormo's blood run cold.
"My lord, the river mouth has been blocked by iron chains deployed by the Targaryens."
"Get over there and tear them down!"
"Yes, my lord!"
Arthur and Oswell were responsible for defending the chain towers along the Upper Rhoyne.
Using their spyglasses, they could see each other across the river.
Before long, they spotted several ships reaching the shore.
A group of soldiers disembarked and began advancing along the iron chains toward the chain towers.
"Form ranks!"
Arthur led his soldiers directly out from among the buildings concealing the towers.
At the same time, the black banner bearing the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen was raised.
The soldiers who had landed were not numerous, perhaps only eighty or a hundred.
Once they realized that the towers were defended, they did not recklessly attack.
Instead, they remained where they were and waited for reinforcements.
Arthur, however, was the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and commander of the royal guard.
There was no chance he would sit around and wait for the enemy to gather their full strength.
He immediately led a hundred heavily armored soldiers straight into the attack.
Another hundred longbowmen followed close behind, providing covering fire.
Within little more than ten minutes, the enemy formation was scattered and driven back.
Watching the enemy flee in panic, Arthur knew this could only be considered a warm-up.
Soon, more enemy troops landed.
They gathered into a force numbering several hundred men.
Arthur ordered his soldiers into a crescent-shaped defensive formation.
Before long, it was not only his tower.
All four chain towers had been discovered by the enemy... And the enemy soon arranged their own forces into an attacking formation.
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