Some time after the fall of Tyrosh... the next city to face the weight of the Bronze's retaliation was Myr.

  Of the three sister kingdoms that once formed the Triarchy, Myr had long been counted among the most powerful. At least the Myrish Myrmen thought so.

  Where Tyrosh thrived upon dyes and maritime trade... Myr prospered through craft and invention. Arts and learning.

  It was a place that stood upon the mainland of Essos, along the shores of the Disputed Lands, its harbors facing the Narrow Sea.

  Unlike island Tyrosh, Myr was connected to the vast interior of Essos by roads and caravan routes that stretched deep into the continent.

  This alone granted the city an advantage in times of hardship. So, Myr was wealthy beyond most ports of the Narrow Sea.

  Its artisans were famed across the world for their delicate Myrish lace, glasswork, and finely wrought lenses.

  Their Myrish eyes... curious tubes of polished glass that magnified distant objects... were prized by sailors and scholars alike.

  With such devices, Myrish watchmen could see sails upon the horizon long before any ordinary lookout.

  The city was ruled not by a king but by a council of magisters… wealthy merchant princes who governed through influence, coin, and rivalry.

  These magisters competed constantly for advantage, yet in times of danger they were capable of unity.

  The armies of Myr were formidable. Though trade was honored above warfare, the city could raise thousands of soldiers and hire countless sellswords.

  It just so happened that learned men of Myrish were particularly gearing their knowledge for better war machines. Especially their newest scorpions... great bolt-throwers built with careful calculations and improved mechanisms... were said to strike harder and farther than those of Westeros.

  All in preparation for the enemy that was coming.

  Not all the ravens may have escaped the chaos of that city’s fall… yet enough reached Myr to deliver their warning.

  That the bright-haired island had been subdued. The bronze-armored warriors had landed without leeway for negotiation. And that Myr was next.

  The magisters of Myr took that threat seriously.

  Lookouts were stationed along the coast with their Myrish eyes, watching the seas day and night. The new scorpions were erected upon the city’s walls. Stores of grain and supplies were gathered from the inland fields.

  Envoys had long ridden east as well.

  The horselords of the Great Grass Sea were dangerous allies… yet persuasive offerings spoke loudly among the khalasars.

  Meaning that agreements were made with certain khals willing to lend their riders to Myr’s defense. And swift horsemen would harry any advancing army, cutting supply lines and striking from open ground.

  So... by the time the bronze sails appeared on the horizon, Myr was ready.

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  They had long been… for unlike Tyrosh and Lys, the city had not been stifled by the Krakens' blockade.

  Trade with the interior of Essos had kept its markets alive and its granaries full. Its soldiers were paid. Its mercenaries loyal enough for coin.

  So, when the watchers finally spotted the approaching fleet through their glass lenses... the alarm spread quickly through the city.

  The invaders had finally come.

  Warships bearing bronze sigils sailed toward the coast in ordered formation.

  Among them was the enormous flagship spoken of in rumor... the Santa Ma-Rheas, whose towering hull dwarfed many vessels beside it.

  Yet the magisters did not panic.

  Their confidence remained strong.

  The bronze warriors would have to fight on land now.

  Krakens would find no purchase upon the dry plains outside Myr’s walls.

  The city’s scorpions would greet the dragons should they descend from the sky.

  Thousands of armored soldiers waited behind prepared defenses, while sellswords and horsemen stood ready in the surrounding countryside.

  The magisters told themselves these justifications and that the Bronze Order had overreached.

  Yes, Tyrosh had fallen.

  But Tyrosh had been weakened, isolated, and partly starved. Myr was none of those things.

  Here the bronze would break. Or at least repelled.

  Their knights would drown in blood before reaching the gates. Their dragons would be driven back by storms of iron bolts. Their monstrous sea creatures would prove useless in a war fought upon open land.

  So the magisters believed.

  For a time their optimism held.

  But it did not last long.

  It did not last long at all.

  --------------

  The fleet of bronze from the distance have yet to come close... but the first attack came already. And much closer than the Myrish leaders expected.

  For about a hundred giant tentacles suddenly breached from the shallow seawater... bringing with them ten gigantic squid bodies whose tips formed spades.

  It was ten freaking and hulking Krakens that shocked Myr!

  A sight that stirred every defender's soul...

  More so when some of those hard-to-miss limbs breached upon the waters again... and dredged up stones.

  Stones to Krakens but literal boulders to men.

  Boulders that were flung to the Myr's way with unmatched force.

  As a result, formations were broken.

  Walls were destroyed.

  And towers fell.

  Those new Scorpions useless.

  The ensuing horror was the fact that the Krakens were far from stopping... their gross limbs that numbered by the tens picked up more stones and flung away in a barrage.

  A barrage that decimated Myr's resistance.

  As if that wasn't too much already... some of these Krakens actually inched closer and closer.

  No longer were these monsters flinging rocks... but literally crawling on land.

  Muffling actual screams as their bodies crushed the screamers.

  Many of these flattened cursed those learned geniuses who claimed that Krakens were no threat on solid ground.

  Of course, to top the carnage off... distinct roars came from above...

  Which meant that the dragons were here...

  Torching the stragglers that hoped to flee from death.

  Ending the sellswords that belatedly realized no gold was worth these fiery fates.

  Burning the horse-riding savages that foolishly charged themselves into a crisp.

  Under this beast-led assault... the Myr army was practically scrapped.

  Just in time for the sailing bronze boats to finally make landfall... so that the Royce knights take care of the rest.

  The delicate task of taking over Myr's streets and establishments.

  Bringing the many magisters to heel after besting the elite guards that they've settled in their residences.

  This Order of the Bronze was admired and praised in Westeros for good reason.

  And the one leading all of them at this point happens to be an armored lady propped on an armored zorse.

  A lady whose every loosed arrow brought green explosions.

  The Lady of Runestone.

  Yet even more impressive were the men under her command.

  Especially that giant among them... armored all over with a bronze suit that magnified his strength to a ridiculous degree.

  One that made him charge through pillars with no hassle.

  A single-horned bronze demon they considered this rammer to be.

  Mystically enough, there was a knight that rode upon a crescent moon... a waverider of Runestone who rode no water but actual wind!

  Then there was that other stand-out knight. One that had a little Valyrian steel sword.

  But that sword was made even more special when it literally flew back to the knight's hand after it was thrown.

  Yet it was no boomerang toy at all.

  Meaning that some kind of magic was at play... and the Myrish soldiers could only react in equal parts amazement and despair!

  And under this unstoppable and stacking onslaught... the distinct freedom of Myr would be no more.