Night fell, yet the warships at the mouths of the Upper Rhoyne and Lower Rhoyne were still burning.
The battle was still raging.
The defenders stationed at the chain towers had already suffered more than fifty percent casualties.
Those closer to Gohor were in a better position, as they could receive reinforcements.
The defenders on the outer side, however, could only fight alone.
Arthur had taken three arrows.
His white cloak had been dyed red, yet the greatsword in his hands remained as sharp as ever.
After once again repelling an enemy assault, an ominous feeling suddenly welled up inside Arthur.
He turned toward the river.
The floating island formed from the wreckage of warships and the vessels trapped behind the chains was beginning to break apart.
The burning wreckage, still covered in green flames, looked like glowing mud that had suddenly begun to flow.
It had broken through the chains and was beginning to "escape" downstream into the Rhoyne!
The river chains had broken!
The people in Gohor who had planned the operation had still overlooked one crucial detail.
Wildfire burned at an extremely high temperature, while the iron used for the river chains was nothing more than ordinary steel.
The temperature of the wildfire, combined with the enormous amount of burning shipwrecks surrounding the chains, had finally melted them after several hours.
But the situation was not particularly serious.
After burning for an entire day, the coalition fleet of more than seventeen hundred ships had lost eighty percent of its vessels.
Of the army numbering more than a hundred thousand men, nearly fifty thousand had died in wildfire explosions or by drowning.
Under such circumstances, the enemy had lost the will to continue their assault on Gohor in one decisive push.
They began preparing to retreat.
But Clinton clearly had no intention of allowing them to withdraw at their leisure.
He immediately dispatched thirty thousand soldiers to capture prisoners wherever they could.
Clinton understood that this was merely the rout battle that Viserys often spoke about.
The young king believed the ideal outcome was an annihilation battle.
Otherwise, once the enemy reorganized their forces, they would simply return.
While sending out the pursuit forces, Clinton also dispatched men to retrieve the soldiers stationed at the chain towers.
By then, the defenders could still see the wreckage of the warships burning across the surface of the river.
Willem stared at the scene before him and, for some reason, remembered the time he had carried out Aerys's orders to execute spies in King's Landing.
That intelligence had actually been provided by Viserys when he was still a prince.
But that situation was nothing compared with what lay before him now.
The thick stench of charred flesh almost seemed to wrap around the entire area.
The wreckage of warships covered nearly the entire river.
And the cries of the wounded echoed in his ears.
For some people, the scene would become a nightmare they could never escape.
"Seven hells!"
The soldiers who had come out from Gohor to meet the defenders could not help but exclaim when they saw the scene.
"May the Mother of the Rhoyne embrace their souls."
A Rhoynish soldier was helping clear the battlefield.
When he saw the charred corpses, burned so badly that they could no longer be recognized as human beings, he offered a sincere prayer.
Whether this battle was ultimately a rout or an annihilation, it was still a magnificent victory belonging to all the people of Gohor.
The Battle of the Rhoyne, also known as the War of a Thousand Ships, would eventually be recorded in the form of murals upon Gohor's Miracis Wall.
"Your Grace, the enemy fleet has been routed. They won't be able to launch another attack for some time.
I have decided to dispatch fifty thousand soldiers to reinforce His Majesty."
Clinton, accompanied by the remaining three and a half Kingsguard, came before Queen Rhaella in the Dragon Palace.
Before they arrived, Rhaella had been standing beside Daenerys and Rhaenys with a dagger in her hand.
"Very well, Lord Hand. Do whatever you think is necessary."
Rhaella knew little about military affairs, so she chose to place her complete trust in Clinton.
At that moment, a letter from the Velvet Mountains arrived at the Dragon Palace.
The maester responsible for the ravenry first handed the letter to Clinton.
Clinton hurriedly opened the envelope.
It was a letter from Viserys requesting reinforcements... Yet the contents were rather strange.
"Immediately dispatch all cavalry forces to the Braavos Coast."
Clinton stared at the brief command, and a question immediately arose in his mind.
Had Viserys already defeated Robert and the two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-strong coalition with only fifty thousand soldiers?
At the Velvet Mountains, Viserys was not dealing with any military affairs.
He had left everything to his deputy.
The Battle of the Rhoyne had given him more than fifty thousand additional essence.
It was time to accelerate the dragons' growth.
The three dragons were resting on an uninhabited mountain nearby.
Viserys transferred his consciousness into Vhagar's body. He watched as Balerion began transferring the stored essence.
The first time, he had transferred one thousand essence into each dragon.
They had grown from the size of domestic geese to the size of foals.
After several months of growth, all three dragons were now roughly the size of adult warhorses.
Starting with Balerion, Viserys wanted to see how far ten thousand essence could push his growth.
After ten thousand Roaring Warrior essence flowed into Balerion, his body immediately began to transform.
His claws and teeth grew thicker and longer.
His scales became thicker and harder. His wings became broader and more powerful.
After absorbing ten thousand essence, a single one of Balerion's wings could easily cover two wagons.
His body had reached fifteen meters in length, already approaching the realm of a true monster.
His enormous head was roughly the size of a wagon wheel.
Then a deep, domineering roar shook the entire valley like thunder.
Meraxes, who had yet to receive any essence, instinctively lowered her head in fright.
But Balerion remained respectful toward Viserys, whose consciousness was currently inside Vhagar.
He knew exactly where his strength came from.
"Still not big enough."
Viserys assessed the black dragon whose body had now surpassed fifteen meters.
But it did not matter.
He still had plenty of essence.
Another ten thousand Roaring Warrior essence was poured into Balerion.
His body grew to twenty-five meters.
His head was now larger than a wagon.
With a casual sweep of his thick tail, an entire row of trees beside him was knocked down.
White splinters flew through the air from the freshly broken trunks.
Twenty-five meters was only ten meters longer than fifteen.
Yet visually, the dragon seemed to have grown twice as large.
Looking at Balerion's increasingly formidable body, Viserys could already faintly see the shadow of the three dragons of the Conquest.
Keep going!
This time, Viserys directly gave him another twenty thousand essence.
Balerion's body grew from twenty-five meters to forty meters.
As for his height, he was probably already comparable to Gohor's Miracis Wall.
At the same time, Viserys realized something.
There seemed to be a diminishing-return effect when essence was used to accelerate a dragon's growth.
Continuing to pour essence into Balerion was becoming increasingly inefficient.
Viserys gave Balerion another ten thousand essence.
His body only grew to forty-five meters.
This time, the visual difference was far less dramatic.
So Viserys divided the remaining forty thousand essence between Miracis and Vhagar, giving each dragon twenty thousand.
Both dragons grew to roughly twenty-five or twenty-six meters.
Viserys looked at his three increasingly enormous dragons.
Then he made his decision.
He was going to mount his dragon and personally send Robert home.
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