It was finally the night of the Battle of Blackwater and Apollos was calmly surveying Blackwater Bay and King's Landing from above in his Airship, The Lion's Wrath. Apollos had been completely successful in his plans and preparations and was quite pleased. He was also incredibly happy that Cersei had finally taken her own life! Joffrey was getting to that point too, but kept trying to be strong. Privately, Apollos was half expecting him to be dead in a few days. Being strong was not one of his personality traits.
Apollos saw the ships appear and signalled to the bell-finger and to the city at large, and was rewarded with the bells ringing and the chains raising in the mouth of the bay to contain the ships.
"Give the order Hadrian," Apollos said emotionlessly.
"Bombs away!" Hadrian called out to the Airship fleet.
Apollos and Hadrian watched with interest and cold detachment as the ships below were caught in Greek Fire bombs and rocks shaped with sharp points to pierce the ships from deck to hull. When Apollos noticed Melisandre near Stannis, he casually destroyed her, erasing her mind, body, and soul from existence. The Airships continued bombing Stannis' fleet into ruin, having destroyed the majority of it, and most of the soldiers on them. Apollos noticed the Golden Company facing his Lionguard near the Mud Gate, Apollos was proud to note that his Lionguard were dominating the battle due to their superior training, equipment, and morale.
"Hadrian, resume your command over the Airforce," Apollos said, noticing a couple thousand surviving soldiers that nobody else had seen. Apollos teleported away after Hadrian nodded.
Apollos arrived near the soldiers at the river.
"Lovely night to die, isn't it?" Apollos asked in amusement.
"We surrender!" They all yelled fearfully, not willing to cross the Butcher of Pyke who had personally slain hundreds as fast and as easily as lesser men could kill two.
"Oh? Very well. All those who follow the Lord of Light, R'hllor, please step to the front." No one was stupid enough to fall for that. Pity. "None? I find that unlikely." Apollos said, before scanning the minds of them and finding a lot of worshipers of that loathsome demon. "So many demon worshipers among you..." Apollos said, before going into action and causing the more than three hundred worshipers of that religion to be instantly disintegrated.
"And now you traitors and godless degenerates will die!" Apollos yelled, before using his limitless speed and strength to cut through fifty people in a mere second, and then telekinetically tear hundreds more apart, before unleashing a massive blast of lightning, killed hundreds more, and stunning or even crippling just as many. He just willed fatal cuts to form on the others, having already grown bored and deciding to find his fun elsewhere. He destroyed the bodies, sparing armor and valuables and sending the gold, silver, and copper to his vault in the Westerlands. And sending the weapons and armor to storage in the Westerlands. He repeated the action on the soldiers on the ship and the actual ships too; destroying the bodies and amassing even more wealth and resources for the Westerlands.
Apollos extended his telepathy to find the mind of Stannis and found him barely alive, having been horribly injured by one of the Lionguard. Apollos promptly teleported to him and began healing him just enough to keep him alive.
When Apollos finished healing Stannis, he restrained him and sent him to a cell; without his armor, weapons and other valuables. All that gold and silver added up quickly and Apollos wasn't afraid to save up money over the millenia, and he was worth several decillion in his home universe.
The Lionguard had proven themselves and had slain the entire Golden Company, only suffering fifty-six casualties to their enemies ten thousand. They had isolated the bodies and gear for Apollos to send to the vaults, which he promply did.
The Tyrell's had finally arrived, late.
"We are late aren't we?" Lord Mace asked, with an undertone of fear. Mace had made a huge mistake! He arrived too late and now he was surrounded by the Lannister's forces on all sides. If this went badly, he and his sons would die with their armies!
"Yes," Apollos replied in amusement. "You're lucky that I'm in a great mood. I killed thousands in one battle. I might even have an orgy later, that would make the day truly perfect." Mace looked relieved that Apollos was in a good mood.
"Lord Lannister!" A messenger said, getting everyone's attention.
"Yes?" Apollos asked.
"A late arriving force of Stannis' is nearing King's Landing, My Lord." The messenger informed Apollos, Lord Mace, Ser Garlan Tyrell, and Ser Loras Tyrell. "The force is estimated to be around ten thousand."
"Well, get to safety and inform my armies."
"We are thirty thousand strong, we will fight them to honor our agreement." Lord Mace said eagerly.
"Very well," Apollos replied to Mace. "Have my forces on stand-by to reinforce them if needed." Apollos said, to the messenger, who nodded and ran off. "I'll also join you all in battle."
"Aren't you tired?" Mace asked, worried that if Apollos died in battle then the Tyrell's would be blamed.
"I don't get tired. That's why my second wife killed herself rather than be impregnated dozens of times and f**ked much more." Apollos replied to the Tyrell's amusement.
"I will have my soldiers get into position." Lord Mace said, and Apollos nodded in reply before doing the same.
They ended up waiting thirty minutes for the army to arrive.
And when they army arrived, they were faced by an army of thirty thousand men, with thirty thousand reinforcements waiting near them and a returning army ready to attack them from behind. Stannis' army never stood a chance and Apollos was the first to attack the enemy host... With a smile on his face!
He was killing several dozen a second and the army actually began retreating some, but the cowards were pursued and impaled in their backs as they ran from battle. Apollos just kept killing his enemies. He was a paragon of perfection for swordsman, every move was flawlessly executed and led to the next without even the smallest pause or hesitation. That perfection had just reached a two-hundred kill count and was quickly on his way to doubling it.